Perils of a Papillon (Fuzzy Love #3) - Tara Lain
With giant hugs of appreciation to the amazing Cate Ashwood for her beautiful new series covers, my formatter and all-around fabulous support, Leslie Copeland, to Jason Bradley for his editing, April Dawn for proofing, and many thanks to Linda Tiliagren for beta reading.
Note to Readers
Thank you for reading PERILS OF A PAPILLON. This whole series has been fun for me to write with the combination of sexy romance, suspense and laughter, plus, of course, the amazing dog. But there was something about the pretend boyfriend/fake fiancé trope in this story that added an extra layer of fun. I got to write that “sharing a bed while only pretending” scene and the “convincing them we’re in love” scenes that reveal why great teachers say if you want to acquire a trait, pretend you have it! LOL. I also added an Abyssinian cat to this story, my favorite feline breed, and that was a treat. I hope you enjoy this combination of hot guys, cold suspense, and fur on your clothes. Hugs!
PERILS OF A PAPILLON
Can pretending to be engaged get you murdered?
Toby Albertine needs a fake fiancé to get the teaching job of his dreams.
Sadly, he’s kind of a duh-weeb and he lives with his twin sister who everyone mistakes for his wife, so no dates
In desperation, Toby asks Ernest, the mysterious man of his dreams, to masquerade as his one and only for a single party. Ernest says yes, but Toby forgot. Things that seem too good to be true—are.
Toby and Ernest wind up sharing a king-sized bed at a resort that’s crawling with all of Toby’s school bigwigs. Can you spell couple’s massage? But one guy's trying to kill Ernest and another’s trying to save him. There’s no place for Toby but in the middle.
There’s a dog, of course, with gigantic ears and a bigger personality. And there’s even a cat named Cat, plus tons of romance, out-loud laughs and near-death experiences. Batshit does it again!
PERILS OF A PAPILLON is a pretend boyfriend, opposites attract, adorable nerd, hot guys with secrets, suspenseful, comedic, MM romance—with dog.
Red queen on black king. Now I need a jack.
He sighed softly. Fuck, everyone needed a Jack. And once they were done with him, no one would need a Jack again. Is it worth it? How many f-ing times had he asked that question?
He glanced over at his laptop and refreshed the page, then smiled. His fingers moving fast, he clicked the blue sell button, typed in 10,000 shares, selected his price, and hit execute. For a few tense minutes, he stared at the screen. Without even a ding, the tiny message flashed at the top of his screen. Sell executed.
He sat back and sipped his water. The automatic transfer of his new fifty-thousand dollar-plus-change profit to his off-shore bank took a solid half hour, but then it would be time to shut down that account, sign up for a new email, and open another trading platform. Meanwhile, he could play with the two more accounts he had active.
Bill said, “You look happy with yourself. Have you made another fortune while I’ve been sitting here staring at cat photos?”
Jack half smiled. It depended on what you called a fortune. Was it a good investment to have three off-shore accounts—and no life?
A radio squawked, Bill ran across the room, clamped Jack’s shoulder, and pulled. “Get down.”
Fuck! He hit the floor, pulse thundering in his ears, and Bill’s arm came over his head as lights went out.
Bill murmured, “What you got?” There was a pause, and then Bill snarled, “You sure? Well hell, bring the thing in here.”
A minute later, the front door opened, and the thud on the floor pointed to the culprit.
Bill snorted as he rose and dusted himself off. “Isn’t there any way you can keep that damned beast inside?”
“I’m not the boss of him.”
Bill sighed loudly, and Jack sat up as a sinuous body crawled onto his lap. He scratched under the lean chin and looked up at his bodyguard. “No one’s going to find me here. Seriously. I’m five hundred miles away.”
Bill crossed his arms. “Yeah, and if there is a hired gun, Santorelli’s probably paying that dude five-hundred thou to find you. Guess who’s motivated?”
“Okay.” Shoulders sagging, he picked up the cat and sat back at the table in front of the cards. “Come on, guy. We need a jack.”
Of course, first they had to live long enough to use it.
Toby Albertine pressed the phone to his ear with his left