Bourbon Promises

I left for a weekend in Las Vegas and came back with a husband. Gideon James isn’t just any husband. He’s a wealthy CEO of a Vegas casino and hotel, but he’s also from my small hometown in Montana. And it’s his family land my brothers are in the middle of purchasing from his father. Our marriage isn’t just any union. I’m a school teacher, in my thirties, and I’m sick of getting let down by men. I couldn’t find a guy to settle down with, but I found one who’s willing to help me have a kid. The fact that he’s devasting in a suit is a nice perk. In exchange, we’ll pretend to be newlyweds and convince his father to stop the sale and make an offer to Gideon instead. You know, for that happy family we’re starting? Gideon will stay in Bourbon Canyon, we’ll live the dream, and his dad will cancel the sale. Then we’ll go our separate ways. Only the longer we’re under the same roof, the harder it is to remember our relationship is fake. The easier it is to forget there’s an end date on this contract. The more I know that I want this marriage to be more than bourbon promises.