I didn’t like to toss around my last name. It was pretty well known in this part of Montana, but I didn’t give a fuck what people thought of me. If he assumed I was a simple bar owner, that was fine by me. Whatever.

I sure as fuck didn’t want an in with this guy because I had a big ranch and a bigger bank account.

“I’m the lucky one,” I added. “A strong woman like Astrid doesn’t need a guy. She’s a successful businesswoman. Talented.”

He raised his hand, flagged down the bartender. Waggled his finger to signal another round.

“I saw you met Edward,” he added. “Why she broke up with him, I’ll never understand.”

“Perhaps because he’s a cheating asshole,” I replied.

His eyebrows went up, then he tipped his head and laughed. I wasn’t sure if he was amused by my response or thought it ridiculous since the fucker was the best man. I assumed Charles was paying for this shindig and the ones to follow later this weekend.

“Astrid won’t have to worry about him while she’s here,” I told him, making that clear. If he took it as a threat, so be it. Eddie was out of her life. I was in it.

Shit. Was I? Fake boyfriend.

She had to deal with these fruitcakes all the time. Weddings, holidays. She needed a wingman longer than a weekend. Strangely enough, I wanted to take care of her. To watch out for her. Stand up for her when it seemed no one else would.

He looked me over, assessing my value, then slapped me on the shoulder. “Good. But your relationship’s new. Trust me. Give it time and you’ll be thinking differently.” Leaning close, he continued. “The real bachelor party’s happening later, after the ladies clear out. Edward’s got a few strippers showing up to give Michael a real send-off. Stick around and get a real lay in before you head back to the house.”

Charles was a piece of work. He was offering me a hooker before I climbed in bed with his daughter. No wonder he didn’t give a shit about what Eddie had done or having him be the best man. He favored the fucker over his own daughter.