Im the outcast bartender, a shy girl from the wrong side of the tracks.

Hes thirty-five and all man, and Im twenty-two and all virgin.

Hes also my fiancé. Correction: my fake fiancé.

We start out as a bet. He doesnt believe that anyone holds my last name against me. So he offers me his to prove a point.

Its win-win. He gets a break from his concerned familys prying, and I get a chance to shed my familys reputation while I save up to ditch this small town.

He says all I have to do is wear his ring, follow his lead, and pretend I cant keep my hands off of him in public.

But its what happens between us in private that blurs all those carefully drawn lines.

Its what transpires behind closed doors that doesnt feel like pretending at all.

This engagement was supposed to be for show. This agreement? It has an end date.

He once told me hed never fall in love.

And yet here I am, head over heels for my fake fiancé.