Rhys looked down at me with those too-beautiful eyes and nodded. “Deal.”

I bit my lip, hesitating over making it official. Dean was so easy-going and charming, I’d been instantly relaxed in his company. The thought of playacting a romantic relationship with him hadn’t bothered me in the least.

I surreptitiously looked over his big brother as he strolled down the street at my side, hands in his jeans’ pockets, impatiently waiting for my answer. Butterflies fluttered to life in my belly and the slight tremble in my legs returned as I imagined pretending to be Rhys’s girlfriend over the next few months.

The man was rough, obnoxious, cursed way too much, and he had the ability to piss me off, which was hard to do. That Fairchild liked him wasn’t much of an endorsement either.

And yet it was the latter that would persuade me to say yes.

“Fine, but I want you to sign a contract.”

“Did Dean have to sign a contract?”

“No. But then Dean never ambushed me for the job either.”

“You tried to prostitute my kid brother. I’m not going to apologize for my behavior.”

The flame of outrage smoldered to life once more. “For the hundredth time, I did not try to prostitute your brother!”

A bark of laughter from across the street made me tense, and I watched the couple who’d overheard me stare at us as they chuckled their way out of earshot.

I colored and glowered up at Rhys as if it were his fault.

The big jerk grinned. “Maybe you should learn to control that temper, Tinker Bell. It’s going to get you in trouble one of these days.”

There was a possibility I’d kill him before we ever signed a contract.

“I did not try to prostitute Dean,” I said quietly. “And while we’re on the subject, that’s not what this is about. You realize there will be no actual sex happening between us?”

“Don’t worry, small fry, you’re not my type.”

Indignation and hurt pride made me sneer. “As if you’re mine.”

Rhys flicked me a dirty look. “Yeah, I think we both know I’m not your type. Now that that’s sorted, do we have a deal or what?”

It occurred to me Rhys was something of a contradiction. “Why is it okay for you to ‘prostitute’ yourself and not Dean?”

His brow furrowed. “Didn’t we just confirm this isn’t prostitution?”

“Don’t be obtuse.”

“Look, my brother didn’t go to college to piss that education down the toilet making easy money escorting you to an event every now and then. He needs to focus on finding a career. I have a career—I run a gym. I need money for that gym. Doing this brings in that money. End of story. Now, do we have a deal?”

“Contract first.”