Take A Number: A Fake Dating Romantic Comedy

by Amy Daws

  I can’t help myself. This sex is good. Too good. And as I moan and flinch and empty myself inside her wet, slick heat, gripping her hips like a fucking lifeline, that urge I had before of never being able to get enough of her returns like a thundering stampede.

  “Oh my God, Dean,” Norah groans as she extracts herself from my grip and turns her wide, sex-filled eyes to me. “Please, feel free to bend me over any surface we come upon in the near future…’cuz that…was some stress-relief sex, right there.”

  I force an uneasy smile as I pull the condom off, knotting it before depositing it in the trash. “We went to all that effort to clean up, so it seemed like a good idea.”

  She readjusts her red thong. “You know what would taste really good right now?”

  If she says my cock, I’m going to have to break all my rules and marry this girl.

  “My seven-layer strawberry cream cake,” she growls and then steps over the mess on the floor to begin rifling through my cupboards. “What kind of baking ingredients do you have in this bachelor pad?”

  “Prepare to be underwhelmed.” I tilt my head to fully appreciate the image of her in red lingerie digging around in my kitchen. It’s not a bad look. I could almost get used to it.

  I shake that thought out of my head. “How about we get dressed and go out for some ice cream?”

  She turns her wide blue eyes at me. “Now you’re talking.”

  I stride into Rise and Shine Bakery the next morning with my laptop in hand, ready to work. I’m meeting a client later, so I’m dressed in gray slacks, a bright green blazer, and a striped button-down. I feel good. Really good. Possibly because I had great sex last night…twice. Once before ice cream and once after ice cream.

  But mostly I feel good because Norah and I are amazingly on the same page. She didn’t sleep over last night because she had early bakery deliveries this morning. And as we sat in her car and licked our cones, we established that sleepovers weren’t a great idea since this was a casual thing anyway. I thought Norah was going to bust out a yellow legal pad and make another list of rules since we haven’t written anything down for this new arrangement, but she held back. Maybe I’m wearing her down a bit after all. That food fight we had last night definitely seemed to relax her.

  “Dean, I already took a number for you,” Kate calls out, waving me over to the booth she’s sitting at.

  “That’s what she said,” I reply with a laugh and then turn to find Norah staring at me from behind the counter. She’s dressed in her classic white baker’s coat and another one of her Heart bandanas. She doesn’t seem to like my joke.

  Smiling broadly, I walk over to the end of the counter where she’s standing. “Morning, sugar lips.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “Is that how boyfriends talk in their girlfriends’ establishments?” Her lips twitch as she fights back a smile. She’s not pissed. Not even a little. She’s just seriously cute.

  “Never.” I shake my head slowly. “I don’t know who said that…it was some guy behind me. You want me to kick his ass?”

  “Yes, please.” She stops the charade and smiles while she sets about arranging the last of her tray of donuts in the glass case. “You’re here early this morning.”

  “Kate wanted to work together today, plus I have a client coming after a while.” I prop myself on the counter and waggle my brows at her. “And I missed you, of course.”

  “More like you missed my baked goods.” She turns and begins filling a cup of coffee for me. She shoots me a flirty side glance and adds, “Croinut flavor today is strawberry cream.”

  I press my hand to my chest. “You really do love me, don’t you?”

  She bursts out in an awkward laugh, and I immediately regret my casual comment when her cheeks flame red, and she begins dabbing at her upper lip with the back of her hand. She then turns to hand me a coffee cup while blurting out, “Boyfriends get free coffee.”

  “Seriously?” I reply while glancing down at the steaming cup in my hands like it’s my savior because it’s rescuing me from needing to explain my last comment. “Had I known this little rule, I would have made you my girlfriend ages ago.” I point at the coffee cup. “This is a great financial investment.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Stop flirting with me and join your friend over there. She’s been mumbling over her computer for an hour. I think she needs some help with her swinger book.”

  I guffaw and grip the strap of my laptop bag. “Okay, but I should probably give my girlfriend some sugar before I eat her sugar.” I pucker my lips and lean over her counter expectantly.

  “You are so lame.” She giggles and pauses when she sees I’m genuinely waiting for a kiss. Finally, she huffs out a noise and leans over the counter. It’s a quick, soft kiss, but it’s enough to remind me how good she always tastes.

  When I head over to join Kate, she’s staring at me like the cat that got the cream. “You guys are seriously so cute.”

  “I get free coffee now.” I smile and slide into the booth while pulling out my laptop. It takes a moment to realize I can’t stop smiling. Almost like I’m a lovesick puppy, which is ridiculous. I clear my throat and try to shake the euphoria out of my brain that I get whenever I’m around Norah. It’s just the good sex…that’s all this is. Good sex makes a guy loopy.

  “Lynsey and I died watching the two of you together in Aspen. You were so cute,” Kate says, abandoning her laptop and perching her elbows on the table to waggle her brows at me. “And now here…how you just walked in and casually kissed her over the counter. Why have you been holding so strongly to your mountain manwhore ways when you are so clearly excellent boyfriend material?”

  I pause and take a sip of my coffee. “I guess I just hadn’t met the right girl.” Who would agree to have casual, stringless sex with me.

  Kate shakes her head. “Gah, I still can’t believe Norah agreed to go out with you in the first place. I had no idea all these years of you coming in here, taking a number, and eating loads of her baked goods, when I know you are obsessive about your fitness, was you playing the long game with her. It’s impressive, Dean. I tip my hat to you.”

  I watch Norah as she emerges from the back kitchen with a fresh batch of croinuts. “I didn’t realize I was playing a game, but I guess it’s working out for the best.”

  “Would Norah be into a weekly game night?” Kate asks excitedly while taking a sip of her coffee. “Lynsey and I were thinking the eight of us could do something every Friday night. Board games, card games, we could go bowling sometimes. You two, me and Miles, Lyns and Josh, and Maggie and Sam. Now that you’re finally wife’d up, we can do coupley stuff like this.”

  “I am not wife’d up,” I retort, feeling tension build in my neck as Kate continues on the subject of Norah and me. I take a sip of my coffee and add, “Don’t forget this is all still new.”

  “It didn’t look new in Aspen,” Kate replies with a smile. “You two looked like you were made for each other. She softens your bullshit ways. And you bring her out of her shell. It’s really cute.”

  “Let’s chill it on the couple stuff, okay?” I grumble and open my laptop to check the market for the eighth time today. “I’m not the one getting married in less than two weeks. You are.”

  Kate groans knowingly and then begins venting about some issue with her florist. I tune it out and turn to watch Norah frost things like it’s my favorite category on Pornhub. She looks happy too. Smiling more than usual while she’s working.

  It’s just good sex. Sex makes people happy. That’s what Kate sees. Nothing more.

  The bell on the door dings behind me, and a chill runs up my spine. I turn around to see that it’s Norah’s mother, Elaine, striding into the bakery. She’s dressed in activewear, and her silver hair looks extra spikey as she makes her way toward Norah with laser focus.

  Last night, Norah told me her mother hadn’t spoken to her since we became a couple and apparently going a week without talking is unusual in No
rah’s world. You would have thought I was some sort of drug dealer for her to be so resistant to the idea of Norah being in a relationship with me, but Norah said it has to do more with her embarrassing the family in front of all her friends that night at the party. Either way, Elaine Donahue is clearly good with mind games because I could tell the lack of contact was bothering Norah.

  I wonder what Elaine’s business is today?

  Norah’s blue eyes are wide as Elaine steps to the side of the counter and begins talking softly with her. When Norah glances over at me for the briefest of seconds, I’m on my feet and making my way over to them. Fake boyfriend or not, I’m going to be supportive.

  “Mrs. Donahue, so nice to see you again,” I say casually as I prop myself on the counter and grab a sample of the croinut from the sample tray. Strawberry cream might be my new favorite.

  “Oh…you’re here,” Elaine says crisply, her eyes looking me up and down like she’s judging my entire outfit. I get the impression that Mr. Donahue is more of a brown, oversized suit wearer, so I’m sure my style choices aren’t her cup of tea.

  “Dean,” I state my name as a reminder. “I’m here a lot.”

  “Yes, Dean. Nice to see you again,” she grinds out, clearly not pleased to see me in the slightest as she turns her attention back to Norah. Man, I connected with Norah’s dad in seconds, but Ice Queen here is going to take some serious thawing.

  “My mom just invited me out for dinner with her and the Hawthornes,” Norah says through a pasted-on smile.

  “Oh, how nice…which night? I’ll clear my schedule.” I smile warmly to Elaine, who’s not melting a single drop.

  “Oh Norah, this is just a couple old families getting together. No need to bore Dean with all our reminiscing.” Elaine smiles crisply at me and turns away from me like I’m dismissed.

  Norah sucks in a breath. “But Mom, Dean is my boyfriend. We spend most nights together, and he gets very sad when we’re apart.”

  My chest shakes with silent laughter over Norah’s dramatic flourish. “What can I say? I’m a needy guy, Elaine.”

  Elaine’s perfectly plucked brows furrow as she snorts through flared nostrils. “I suppose I could call and see if they can make room for one more.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be able to manage,” Norah replies.

  Elaine takes a step back from the counter and nods stiffly. “Fine then. Dinner is at seven on Saturday night at Jill’s Restaurant in the St. Julien hotel. It will be me and your father, Jim and Carol, and of course Nathaniel. He’s really looking forward to seeing you again, pumpkin. You two rushed off from our anniversary party so quickly he hardly got a word in with you.”

  “I’m afraid that was my fault, Mrs. Donahue,” I interject, detesting Elaine’s scornful eyes on Norah. “It’s really hard for me to share your daughter these days.” I wink at Norah, who looks like she’s fighting back a laugh, before turning my attention back to Elaine.

  “Well…please do try to control yourself on Saturday.” Her lips twitch with annoyance. “I must be going.”

  She turns and hustles out of the bakery, and I find Norah smiling at me. “As far as fake boyfriends go…you don’t suck.”

  Saturday night, Dean buzzes my apartment door at six thirty sharp. I straighten out my gray shift dress before hustling down the steps to meet him outside. The cool September night air hits my bare legs as I tighten my black suede jacket around my shoulders.

  “Hello, beautiful,” Dean says while propped against his SUV like he’s posing for a catalog ad for Range Rover. He’s dressed in dark slacks and a white button-down with charcoal piping along the seams. It’s a little less flare than his usual style, but with his dark-framed glasses and freshly trimmed beard, he’s hot as ever.

  I self-consciously finger-comb my short blond curls, suddenly feeling like a slob next to Dean. “I didn’t have Rachael’s help tonight.”

  “You don’t need it.” Dean opens the passenger door for me. “You look stunning. Stop fidgeting.”

  I slide into the car and hit him with dubious eyes. “This is my normal demeanor when preparing for an evening with my mother. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

  Dean laughs, eyeing my legs with a dirty look before closing the door and walking around the car to the driver’s seat. His car smells like him: expensive, manly, and new. I could get used to it.

  He heads down the road toward the restaurant and begins rambling to me about a big meeting he had with one of his clients earlier today. Talking about our jobs has sort of become a new normal for us the past several days. Either via text or one of the several times we’ve seen each other. It’s been kind of nice. Normally, Rachael is my sounding board for all things business, but Dean actually has really good business insights and has been extremely helpful with all the Denver bakery preparations. I’m useless when it comes to his hedge fund issues, but he seems to just appreciate that I’m willing to listen. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this is how a real relationship feels. Especially considering we haven’t gone a single evening without seeing each other since our food fight night. We’re still sticking with the no-sleeping-over rule, but we’re definitely not giving each other a lot of space.

  Last night he invited me over to rectify the fact that I had never seen the movie Good Will Hunting. However, we were only a few minutes into the movie before I was naked on Dean’s beanbag chair with his face between my thighs and his name screaming from my lips. By the time he was done, all I could hear was Matt Damon’s voice in the background asking, “How do you like them apples?”

  I can say with absolute certainty that I liked those apples very, very much.

  The point is, I’m feeling good about this fake relationship situation. I’m finally finding some much-needed balance in my life between work and play. I’m hoping I can apply this newfound freedom in my life without requiring a fake friends-with-benefits boyfriend.

  However, for now I’m making myself live in the moment. I don’t need to worry about how Dean and I are going to go back to being friends after this or how we’re going to deal with our official breakup when the time comes. I’m just going to enjoy this while I have it.

  We pull up to the St. Julien hotel and make our way through the lobby to Jill’s. It’s a dark and luxurious restaurant with a French bistro feel to it. White linen tablecloths and elegant glassware on every table. The food is excellent, and it’s a place people like my father and Nate’s father would take clients to.

  The hostess ushers us over to the table where my parents and Jim and Carol are already seated, despite the fact that we’re five minutes early.

  “Pumpkin!” my dad bellows as he sees Dean and me approach. He stands up and walks over from the far side of the table to greet me. He looks me up and down before leaning in to kiss my cheek. “You look radiant, Norah. Have you been out in the sun a lot this week?”

  I pull away and laugh. “No, can’t say that I have.”

  “Huh, you look different. Glowing almost. Isn’t my daughter glowing, Jim?” My dad turns to Nate’s dad, who rises from his seat across from the one my father vacated.

  “She looks healthy,” Jim says, combing his gray mustache and dipping his head toward me. “Nice to see you again, Norah.”

  “Nice to see you, Jim.” I look at my mother and Carol seated in the middle of the rectangular table with glasses of red wine in hand. “Hi, Mom. Carol. You all remember Dean?”

  “Hello everyone.” Dean reaches across me to shake Jim’s hand while my father claps him on the back and asks, “Well, what libations are we having tonight?”

  “Whiskey tonight, son. I tried that IPA beer you recommended, and I just can’t do it.”

  “You have to try it a few times. It grows on you.”

  “It feels like it’s growing legs in my stomach.” My dad grimaces in remembrance.

  Dean laughs and takes the seat next to my mother, which might be safer than sitting across from her because he at least doesn’t h
ave to look directly into her eyes too much. I take the chair next to Dean at the end of the table, leaving the space beside me open for Nate.

  My palms are sweating so much that I grab the black linen napkin at my seat to wipe them off.

  “Norah, why are you so sweaty?” my mother hisses quietly while Dean and my dad continue to lean back in their chairs and talk alcohol behind her.

  “It’s hot in here,” I retort, and fan my face. “Don’t you think it’s hot, Carol?”

  “I’m actually a little cold,” she replies and I want to roll my eyes. Sand-bagging sonofa—

  I notice Dean’s shoulders shaking with silent laughter as he places his hand on top of mine. “Try to relax, pumpkin.” He winks playfully at me.

  “Don’t,” I warn with narrowed eyes. “I gave you sugar lips under direct protest. Pumpkin was not a part of our agreement.”

  “Rules were made to be broken, Norah.” Dean smiles and sits back in his chair to continue chatting with my father. I hate how easy this is for him.

  “Did you all start the party without me?” Nate’s voice echoes behind me and I turn around to see him approaching.

  He’s dressed in a gray suit that hugs him perfectly. His pocket square is bright green and I’d swear he’s taking a page out of Dean’s fashion book.

  Nate says his hellos to our parents and then comes to stand beside me. “Nice to see you again, old friend.”

  He holds his hands out wide and…well, I guess we’re hugging. I stand and accept the embrace, noticing his smell isn’t nearly as enticing as Dean’s. When I pull away, I gesture to Dean and state awkwardly, “The boyfriend.”

  Nate laughs like I’m an adorable little child who is just learning to speak for the first time. “Ah yes. Nice to see you again. Dane, was it?”

  “Dean,” Dean corrects with a pained smile.

  “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” Nate replies while the two forcefully shake hands before sitting down across from each other.