Falling for His Fake Fiancée (Book 2, Girls' Night Trilogy)

by Gillian Blakely

“It’s Greg isn’t it? I thought you were watching him rather dreamily Sunday.”

  Trust JJ to figure it out.

  Gretchen sighed and unlocked the dressing room door. The knob turned and Gretchen sat down on the bench.

  “You know I’m okay with this, right?”

  “You are?”

  JJ sat down next her and Gretchen tried to ignore the fact that she was practically topless.

  “Of course I am. My brothers would be lucky to date any of my friends. Greg would be especially lucky to have you.”

  “Then why was he interested in Baby? I don’t get it?”

  “I don’t know, but I finally understand why you haven’t said two words to her in the past month and a half.”

  “I didn’t think you noticed.”

  “We did.”

  “It wasn’t about him liking her. It was about her wanting to have sex with him at the Super Bowl party and when he said no, she came right back downstairs and flirted with football players.”

  “I know,” JJ said with a sigh. “This isn’t related, but I’m going to flog my brothers the next time I see them.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because teasing like that was extra mean to you. They didn’t know about your feelings, but still.”

  “Thomas does.” But Gretchen got the feeling he was trying to help her somehow.

  “He does?”

  “He figured it out.”

  “He always was the smart one,” JJ said with a sigh.

  “I’m over it. Besides, you should have seen the look on their face.” She quickly explained how she’d played along with their faulty marriage assumption shortly after they’d arrived. By the end JJ was laughing hard.

  When they finished giggling, JJ stared at the frothy red bra. “Think you could show that to my brother? It looks amazing on you so I’m reasonably sure that would get his attention.”

  Gretchen was sure one would have to be blind to not notice that bra, even on someone with a little extra around the waist line. That little extra went to her boobs as well.

  “We’ll see.”

  JJ’s smile was mischievous and she vaulted off the bench. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  But she paused and turned back in the doorway. “I like this new side of you. You seem…happier.”

  Gretchen smiled, feeling light and carefree. She had to admit, she was glad to have a confidant. Some secrets were better when shared. And it was nice to know that JJ believed in her, believed that Greg would be lucky to have a woman like Gretchen by his side.

  “I feel happier.” She glanced down at the bra. She’d be even happier if Greg decided he couldn’t live without her, but she wasn’t holding her breath…no matter how fabulous he was at kissing.

  JJ gave her two thumbs up. “I say go for it.”

  “I’m going to need matching panties.”

  24

  As she drove home from Roseville Gretchen pondered the contents of her refrigerator. Even though she was on a high after a smoother than she’d ever thought possible bra-shopping trip, she was also tired. The kids were in rare form this week, counting the hours until their spring break. Two weeks she’d be free of them. Two weeks to work on her business, clean out her closet, and if the stars aligned just right, she’d spend more time with Greg.

  But right now she just wanted to kick her feet up and that meant no cooking. Some nights just called for pizza from her favorite parlor. Her stomach let out a ferocious growl.

  “Guess that’s settled,” she murmured, wondering if Greg still hated olives on his pizza.

  Just before turning into her little driveway she noticed a sleek, dark green car parked in front of the garage. No one she knew drove a car like that. Perhaps it belonged to a friend of Greg.

  She parked on the street and grabbed her purse and purchases. Despite her eagerness to vegetate, she was excited to see him and ask him about his day.

  Her conversation with JJ gave her the push to figure out what to say to Greg when the time was right. She didn’t want to be the woman who blurted out “I love you” in the middle of a make out session. And there was that little sliver of doubt poking around in the back of her mind. What if this was just a sickbed diversion for him? Despite his claim that her touch distracted him from the pain she needed to be sure that he wasn’t just passing the time. Her heart needed to know if he saw any chance for them, the possibility of a future together.

  It was probably better to know than to keep on nursing a crush. And let’s face it she was hardcore crushing on him.

  So she should tell him.

  That would put him on the spot of course and perhaps that wasn’t her best idea. Maybe before she left for work in the morning she could just say it on the way out the door. That sounded good. She’d tell him not to say anything, just think about it. That could work.

  She didn’t have the front door all the way open when a familiar perfume hit her in the nose. Dread seized her body to the point where she froze in place. Her legs felt like lead weights and an anvil had taken up residence in her stomach.

  Gretchen scolded herself. It was ridiculous to feel this way at her age, but there was nothing she could do about it. No amount of reasoning and trying to put herself in her mother’s shoes could take away a lackluster childhood and the remaining scars.

  Her mother’s voice galvanized Gretchen into action and she barrelled into the living room. She’d been fearing the worst, at least the worst on her current scale of bad. But her mother was currently snuggling up next to Greg, her hand on his arm. This was a new level of worst case scenario.

  It took less than a millisecond to notice how uncomfortable Greg was and something inside Gretchen snapped. She opened her mouth but her mother beat her to the punch.

  “Oh, hello sweetheart.” The Texas twang in her mother’s voice shocked Gretchen. Her mother was not a Texas native, which meant this was all a ruse based on the latest scenario to snag a man. “I was just getting to know your fella.”

  “So I see,” Gretchen said as Greg bolted off the couch. For a man who’d been favoring his leg for the past few days, he moved with a speed and agility that surprised her.

  “I’m so glad you’re home. Missed you today,” he said, sweeping her into his arms. With a hand cupping her jaw, he lowered his head and slanted a kiss across her lips that left nothing to the imagination. He might be putting on a show for her mother, but there was a possessiveness in his hold that thrilled her.

  He pulled back and smiled down at her before she could get too swept away. Her breathing was ragged but she managed a grin. “Missed you too.”

  She wasn’t sure what Greg had told her mother about their relationship, but that kiss could have left no doubts in her mother’s mind. Her mom had called him her fella and after that kiss, Gretchen couldn’t agree more. But as she stared up at him, memorizing the relief and happiness on his handsome face, a single thought drowned out the rest. If Greg was her fella, what kind of a mother cozied up to her daughter’s man like that?

  Her mother pushed off of the sofa and strode across the room on a pair of pointy black heels. “How are you, darling?”

  Greg took a reluctant step back and to the side, his hand sliding to the small of Gretchen’s back. Silent support. Just what she’d always wanted.

  The perfume got stronger and by the time her mother wrapped her in a faux hug, obviously for Greg’s benefit because Gretchen honestly couldn’t remember the last time her mother had hugged her, she was suffocating on the stench. Clarise Mascoe never had known when to quit: spraying perfume, drinking or chasing a man.

  Her mother took a step back and gave Gretchen a critical once over. Oh Lord, here it comes, Gretchen thought, mentally bracing.

  “I love what you’ve done with your hair. Is that new? Annie didn’t mention it at lunch. I was just telling Greg that’d I’d love to take the two of you out for dinner. Wouldn’t that be lovely? I can’t stay long, mind you. Our flight leaves in the morning.”
She waved her hand as if the details didn’t matter. “I’m sorry Harold couldn’t make it, but he’s so incredibly busy. I guess that’s what it takes to be a millionaire. What do you say dear? I can’t wait to get to know Greg better.”

  Gretchen stared, completely mute. Really, she was dumbfounded as evident by the way her mouth had dropped open. Between the blabbering and fake accent she could have been staring at a different person all together. But the brunette in the slim fitting coral dress certainly looked like Gretchen’s mother. Granted they hadn’t seen each other in years and Gretchen had stopped trying to have a relationship with the woman the day she’d told Gretchen she had no intention of taking care of the only grandmother Gretchen had ever known.

  Gretchen’s father might not have wanted anything to do with his daughter, but his mother had welcomed Gretchen with open arms. She’d never forgotten that, never felt like an imposition and when the elderly woman had become ill, Gretchen had stepped in to make her remaining years as comfortable as possible.

  “Who’s Harold?” Gretchen asked, instantly regretting it. She knew better than to get her mother going.

  “My new husband. Didn’t you get the postcard? Oh dear, did I forget to send it?” How her mother managed to pull off that worried-mom look so well, Gretchen didn’t know. Then her gaze dropped to the shopping bag clutched in Gretchen’s hand. Anxiety ricocheted through her body.

  “Ohhh...you’ve been shopping!” One of Clarise Mascoe’s favorite past times and yet she’d rarely taken her daughters with her. “Let me see.”

  She wrenched the bag away before Gretchen could stop her.

  “Lingerie?” Her mother’s brown eyes locked with Gretchen’s. Gretchen reached for the bag just as her mother pulled out the red bra.

  “Mother!”

  “Oh, Greg, you lucky devil,” her mother cooed and then giggled up at him.

  Gretchen snatched the bra back and stuffed it back in the bag. She felt the heat of a blush scorching her cheeks and refused to look at Greg. God, what must he think? This scene was straight out of a nightmare.

  “But between you and me,” her mother continued in a false whisper, “lose another thirty pounds and I’ll send you some of my old La Perla.”

  “Did you really just say that?” The words tumbled from Gretchen’s lips.

  “What? La Perla is expensive and I know you’re on a budget, sweetie.”

  A twig of patience she’d never realized had been holding on broke under the weight of her disgust. What little hope she’d had left of becoming close to the mother who’d given birth to her dried up.

  “I don’t want your old lingerie, I don’t care how expensive it is.”

  Her voice echoed off the walls and she realized that had come out much louder than she’d intended.

  “No need to get upset, honey. I was just being nice.”

  “In that same vein,” Gretchen said, “it’s time for you to go.”

  “But what about dinner? I was looking forward to catching up.” Her mother glanced up at Greg and gave him a smile that had seduced many a lesser man.

  “Unfortunately,” Greg’s voice filled the room and her mother stopped grinning. Gretchen couldn’t resist looking his way. He stood tall, shoulders back, angled toward her giving no hint that his body was anything less than one hundred percent. “We’re going to have to pass. Gretchen and I have plans.”

  Clarise Mascoe’s eyebrows lifted in astonishment and Gretchen figured her expression mirrored her mother’s.

  “But―”

  “How long have you been in town?” Gretchen asked.

  “Not long, a few days. Why?”

  “Perhaps you should have called―”

  “I did!” Her mother interrupted.

  “And left a message rather than showing up.”

  “Oh, Gretchen, don’t be like that.” Her mother glanced nervously at Greg. “Look, I know I wasn’t always there for you but I’m trying to change.”

  “Then change. Don’t try. Don’t walk into my house and tease me. Don’t insult my weight or remind me what a little makeup could do. Call. Show up when you say you will. But if you can’t do that, if you can’t be that kind of mother then please don’t bother me or Annie again.”

  The words seeped out of her, each one filled with anguish and years of pain. And the whole time, Greg kept a tight hold around her waist, supporting her when her knees would have buckled.

  “If I leave now you’ll never see a dime of my money,” her mother spat the words.

  “It’s not your money! It’s your husbands. Besides it was never your money that I wanted, mom.”

  There was a single second of pause where her mother seemed genuinely surprised.

  “Well, what did you want?” she asked, her tone haughty and the Texan accent gone.

  Gretchen wanted to scream. But screaming at thirty seemed extra juvenile so she held it in. “Family dinners. Stability. A mother who didn’t use her daughter to snag a rich husband, who didn’t come home drunk more often than not.”

  “I did not use you―”

  “Then what would you call it? When you were around, you were either drunk or sleeping off a hangover. And when you did take me shopping it was for a fancy dress we couldn’t afford so I’d fit in with your yacht club friends. Here’s a newsflash mom, those guys didn’t want a readymade family.”

  “Well,” her mother said, gathering her purse, “you’re absolutely right about that. I’ve had much better luck since you girls grew up.”

  “Really? Because I remember raising Annie like she was my own.”

  There was a flash of pain on her mother’s face and Gretchen realized that her mom had thought she was doing what was best. Finding a rich husband had been her idea of how to take care of her children.

  The lines around her eyes and lips were evidence that while the years had been kind to her mom, they’d also worn on her. Gretchen almost regretted her words. Almost.

  But as she always did, her mother rallied, pulled her shoulders back and tipped her chin up. “It was nice meeting you Greg.”

  “Likewise.”

  Without a goodbye her mother strode out the front door. Gretchen held her breath until she heard the sound of her mother’s car engine fade down the street. She exhaled, wilting under the heat of the confrontation. It’d been such a long time in coming and it was Greg’s support that had given her the backbone to stand up for herself.

  He turned her in his arms and she clung to him.

  “Now do you see why I loved your mom so much?”

  “I see why you’re such an incredible woman,” he murmured.

  She closed her eyes and nestled closer. “My grandmother was a good role model.”

  He rocked her gently, his hold around her waist nice and tight. She didn’t want to move, to lose the connection with him. Did he feel it? Did he know how much his support meant to her?

  She tipped her head back and stared up into concerned blue eyes. His gaze dipped to her lips and his hands slid down her back, pulling her hips against his.

  “Sorry,” he murmured immediately and loosened his grip, then returned his hands to the small of her back.

  “Don’t apologize.” What she really meant was ‘don’t stop!’

  The corner of his mouth kicked up into a grin that melted the tension away.

  “With the exception of you picking me up at the hospital, I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see someone.”

  Even though he smiled as he spoke, she could have died of embarrassment.

  “I’m so sorry. I had no idea she was coming.” Gretchen tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her.

  “It’s fine. She was only here for about five minutes before you showed up.”

  She dropped her chin. “She’s always been a walking, talking hormone. It never occurred to me that she’d hit on someone so much younger. And unavailable to boot. Not that that’s ever really stopped her either. She was always trolling for her next husband
and almost divorced men seemed extra appealing. I swear, I don’t even know why she showed up. She should have called. I would have told her not to bother coming over. That makes me sound like an awful daughter, doesn’t it?”

  She was babbling. Knowing it didn’t slow her down. Greg’s arousal wasn’t something she could miss when he was holding her so close and the knowledge that he was attracted to her, that attracted, well, it short circuited her brain. But not her mouth.

  “I didn’t mean to imply that we’re together, but she thought so. What kind of―”

  “Gretchen…”

  “Hmm?” She looked up at him again.

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  25

  Her jaw dropped just as he’d known it would. There was just something about pushing this woman’s buttons. And that mouth…gorgeous and plump, just waiting to be kissed. He remembered being distracted by her lips the first time they’d met. She’d been dating some guy at that point and all lusty thoughts about his sister’s friend had been off.

  That was probably a good thing since he’d been thinking with the wrong head back then.

  Her right hand slid up his chest, over his shoulder and into his hair and her eye lashes fluttered closed. Damn she was pretty, with the most radiant skin he’d ever seen.

  He studied her for a moment longer, knowing that as soon as he gave in to the urge, he wouldn’t come up for air for a while. But he also knew that Gretchen doubted how lovely she was and he didn’t want her second guessing his attraction. Not even a little bit. So he used the edge of his index finger to tip her chin up a little higher and then stole the kiss he’d been day dreaming about all day.

  Her lips parted on a sigh. He felt the same way: breathless, amazed, connected. When he ran the tip of his tongue along her lower lip she groaned and tightened her hold on his hair. Her hips shifted against his, pinning his erection between them.

  It was his turn to groan.

  She sucked on his tongue and pleasure shot through him. The vixen. If he hadn’t already been hard as a damn rock that little maneuver would have taken him from zero to sixty in a heartbeat.