There are a few things I regret in my life. Okay, more than a few. Like . . .
1. Waiting for Prince Charming.
2. Saving my virginity for our wedding night.
3. Then finding out my prince was nothing more than a lying, cheating toad.
Actually, I don’t regret the last one.
When I take off on my honeymoon-for-one,
The last thing I want is more drama.
Until one drink leads to two, and two leads to four,
And four becomes the wildest night of my life,
When I meet him.
My hot-as-heck Australian is wrong in all the right ways.
He’s also handsome, funny, and charming,
So maybe I won’t add him to my list of regrets.
Until I wake in his bed.
He swears nothing happened,
And now he’s made me an offer I don’t want to refuse.
Spend two weeks with him.
In exchange for attending the wedding of the year,
Pretending to be his girlfriend.
Yeah, I think he’s hiding something, too.
It’s hardly the stuff of fairy tales,
Even if we are sharing a bed.
Because he insists on a no-touch rule!
And I so want to touch—I want to do all the things,
Break all his rules!
Because fake-dating him is better than marrying a toad,
Even if he isn’t my Prince Charming.
Unless it turns out he really is . . .