Fake Love Rich Boss Series

by Peterson , Sloane

  I think that I do. We fall back into silence, driving down the familiar straight-line road where the shadow of the dark trees looms over us. Oliver stops at the little pull-off that he did on our ‘first date’ and kills the engine. We get out of the car and climb onto the hood.

  The sea is just as dark as our first time here. It’s chillier than the last time, the season change becoming clear. Oliver and I sit next to each other, silent. With some hesitation, he drapes an arm around my shoulder and pulls me next to him. I allow it, not wanting anything more at the moment.

  We sit like that for an unspoken amount of time.

  “What are we doing, Oliver?” I finally ask, my voice still quiet like it was in the car.

  “I don’t know anymore,” he murmurs.

  He doesn’t make eye contact with me, just staring out at the dark sea.

  “I meant what I said. The proposal was genuine,” he says. “I know how insistent you are about keeping our boundaries. I know I haven’t proved to you that I’m a better man than you think I am, so you can think it was nothing. You can think the proposal was fake all that you want to. Whatever you want to do, Cassidy.”

  “I don’t want it to be fake,” I say, and regret it as soon as the words leave my lips. “I know I need to keep my distance from you, but I don’t want to. I just want you to prove to me that you’re not who I think you are.”

  He sighs.

  “I’m trying. I don’t know what more to do. The only other option I know is to turn myself in for murder, but I don’t think you want that.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “So, then what do I do?”

  I wish I had an answer. I wish I knew what could fix my view of him, my view of us. I wish I could figure out how to change everything and make it better, make it like I wish it were. How I thought it used to be.

  “I don’t know,” I tell him in a small voice, just like the one I used in the car when I didn’t want to broach the subject.

  “Me either,” he murmurs back to me.

  He keeps his arm wrapped around my shoulders, keeping me close to him and I’m thankful for that because this closeness is exactly what I need right now.

  I hold up my left hand, look at the dazzling ring on my ring finger.

  “So, I’m going to have to give this back, aren’t I? When we split up?”

  Oliver turns his gaze towards the ring.

  “Not if you don’t want to...”

  He looks back at the sea, taking a deep breath.

  “We don’t ever have to split up, Cassidy. That’s only part of the agreement because you said you don’t want to be with me. It’s not a requirement.”

  “I know.”

  “So, your mind is still made up?”

  Yes it is. I just don’t want it to be.

  He hasn’t proven to me that he’s not who I think he is. He hasn’t proven that he’s not going to make those same mistakes. The love is there. The want is there, but there’s still a lack of trust.

  I don’t think he would ever do anything to hurt me or endanger our child. I don’t even think he’d cheat on me. I just fear that he would do something stupid again and screw up his and our entire future.

  If I work really hard at it, I could probably get over everything he has done. He’s never appeared remorseful about it, but I think that he is. I think I made him realize that his actions have consequences, something Oliver’s never had to face before.

  I’m silent for too long because Oliver slowly withdraws his body from mine.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says quietly. He’s hurt. I can tell from his tone. I can tell from his movements and the way that he won’t make eye contact with me.

  “Oliver,” I sigh. It’s my turn to run a hand through my own hair. “It’s not that. It’s just... how do I know you won’t make the same mistakes? How do I get over what you’ve done?”

  “You have to trust me, Cassidy. If I tell you I’m not going to make the same mistakes, then you believe that I’m not going to make the same mistakes. If the price of making those mistakes is losing you, I don’t want to make those mistakes again. You just have to trust that I’m going to be better,” he pleads.

  When he speaks, Oliver is looking hard at me. Passion fills his voice.

  I’m at a loss. I don’t know what to do. I only know what my heart wants - and at this very moment, it wants Oliver. I turn my body so it’s facing him before leaning in and pressing my lips against his.

  Electricity sparks. I feel like I’m flying. It’s everything that’s been missing from my life. Oliver wraps his arms back around me, pulling me flush against him. We kiss like we need each other to live. Desperate. Wild. Everything comes back to me like muscle memory. Our lips fit one another’s perfectly.

  Oliver shifts our bodies on the car, turning me gently so he can push me to lie back on the hood. Our lips find one another’s again, his hand sliding down to my hip. His hand tangles in the fabric of the dress that I’m wearing, pulling it slowly up my legs.

  I should stop this. I know that I should. I’m still worried about where we stand, what we are. I still fear that he doesn’t really regret what he’s done, that all he’s doing is using pretty words and perfect sentences - the power of the Windsor charm - to win me over.

  But I don’t care. Not right now. Because being here with Oliver is everything that I’ve wanted for months. It’s everything I’ve been missing, craving. His lips leave mine, beginning to kiss a trail down my neck, over my collarbone.

  I shiver as his lips brush over my skin, my body eager for more of him. The hand that was on my hip, slides over, now resting over my underwear. His hand brushes over me through the fabric and I shiver again.

  “Tell me you want me,” he whispers against my collarbone, his breath tickling my skin. “Tell me this is okay.”

  It shouldn’t be. I should continue standing my ground, but I can’t. I’m weak for this man and have been for too long now.

  “I want you,” I whisper back.

  He doesn’t wait for me to say anything else. He pushes my panties to the side, his fingers brushing over my sensitive area. I gasp at the contact and I think I see him smirk in the moonlight. His fingers slip between my folds with ease, beginning to work all the right buttons like he used to. It’s like this is all muscle memory for him too.

  His lips go back to my collarbone and I feel his teeth nipping at my skin, his mouth sucking, and then his tongue soothing over it. I’m going to have a mark in the morning, and I don’t have to hide it. The world knows that we’re together. That’s all that matters.

  Just his fingers have me squirming on the hood of his car, quiet gasps and moans escaping me. It’s been so long since someone has touched me. I haven’t been with anyone since the last time that we were together, and I realize now just how desperate I’ve been for his touch.

  Before he can bring me over the edge, he stops. I whine out of desperation and I hear him breathlessly chuckle. He shifts a bit more, this time wiggling out of his slacks. Somehow, even this ungraceful motion looks beautiful. He gets his pants around his ankles before he slides his body between my legs.

  His hips settle against mine and our eyes meet. We don’t exchange another word as he pushes inside of me. I gasp as he fills me, giving into the pleasure.

  Underneath the moonlight, with just the sounds of the ocean behind us, we make love. We move as one. All hands and lips and quiet gasps. We move together, expressing just how much we mean to one another with our bodies. We say, ‘I miss you’ and ‘I love you’ without words.

  As the feelings build to a crescendo, I bury my face in his neck and fall over that edge. I cry out his name into the darkness and that drives him to move quicker. Oliver’s hips falter for a moment as he reaches that peak right after me.

  We don’t say anything. Neither of us moves. We hold one another, keeping each other close as we come down from the emotional high. Occasionally our lips will meet in small, brief kiss
es. There’s nothing else for us to say.

  This moment said it all.

  I wake up the next day in Oliver’s bed at Windsor manor. His arms are wrapped securely around me, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this at peace. His breathing is steady, his chest rising and falling against my back.

  I wonder if this is a mistake. I wonder if I’m just opening myself up for disappointment and hurt again. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, maybe I never did.

  The only things I know are that: 1) Oliver Windsor is the father of my future child. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together in the future and 2) I love him. I’ve loved him for months now and being away from him has been painful.

  That’s all I really know when it comes down to it, and maybe that’s enough.

  I retrieve my phone from his nightstand. I ignore the frenzy of text messages and instead open my browser to one of the tabloid web sites. The first article is exactly what I expect. ‘Oliver Windsor: ENGAGED?!’

  I click the link to the article, curious to read it. As soon as I open it, the first photo to pop up is of Oliver on one knee in front of me. The text underneath is a paragraph. Short, sweet, and to the point.

  ‘We have the exclusive scoop that Oliver Windsor proposed to his suspected pregnant girlfriend, Cassidy Hanson, last night at dinner. Witnesses claim that Hanson said ‘yes’ to the proposal, although we have no confirmation from either party about this or the pregnancy. We’ll keep you up to date as we learn more about the Windsor heir’s sudden whirlwind romance. All we can say is that the next press conference will be one to watch, eh?’

  “I feel like they could’ve written that a bit better,” Oliver’s voice comes from behind me. It’s thick, full of sleep. I wasn’t expecting it and I jump slightly. He chuckles, leaning forward to kiss my shoulder. “Sorry. I thought you knew I was awake. I hardly sleep in.”

  “I know that,” I murmur, finding his hand. His arm is still wrapped around me, his hand resting over my stomach. I put my hand on top of his. “I agree though. I feel like they’re really lacking information.”

  He chuckles.

  “Guess we should help them with that?”

  “That’s the plan...but what do we do now?”

  He kisses my shoulder. “It’s easy, Cassidy. We do what every celebrity couple does. We take to social media.”

  “I thought you hated social media.”

  “It has its uses.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I wasn’t expecting Oliver to hop on the social media thing as soon as we woke up, but here we are. Sitting in the sitting room of Windsor Manor, Oliver and I sit as close as possible as our photos are taken. Hovering over us with Oliver’s phone is Edward, who looks reluctant to be our photographer. I’m pretty sure when Oliver asked him I heard him mutter something about it being out of his pay scale, but he did it anyway.

  Not out of loyalty, but I believe out of love for Oliver.

  For the photo, Edward zooms in on our hands. My hand is placed daintily on top of Oliver’s, making sure the diamond on my finger is the centerpiece of the photo. The idea is for it to look like a typical engagement announcement. Nothing fancy, except for the ring. Something simple. If it were too over the top, it could be cause for suspicion.

  He snaps a few photos from different angles before handing Oliver back his phone.

  “Thank you,” Oliver replies as he takes it.

  He opens his gallery and just as we start to scroll through the photos to pick one, Alan appears.

  He clears his throat as if announcing his entrance to the room. Everyone, including me, turns to look at him.

  “Sorry to interrupt. I think I forgot to say it last night, but congratulations on the engagement,” he winks toward Oliver and me before continuing. “Oliver, do you think I can talk to you for a moment?”

  Oliver looks to me and I nod before he stands up.

  “Yeah, sure. You pick a photo that you like Cassidy, feel free to go ahead and post it,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

  Then, without another word, the two of them disappear in the direction of Alan’s study.

  I’m left in the sitting room with Edward, who’s looking at me with his eyes squinted.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” I speak up, not wanting any awkwardness to settle between the two of us.

  Things have never been awkward between Edward and I. He’s always made me feel welcome and comfortable. I’ve always considered him a friend.

  He walks over to one of the recliners, taking a seat in it.

  “I want to make sure you’re comfortable with everything going on,” he says. “I know Alan and in a lesser sense, Oliver, can be very persuasive. But I drove you home that night. I know how hard it was for you, how broken up you were about the decision that you made. I want to make sure this is something you want.”

  Edward is one of the only people who know why I broke things off with Oliver. Therefore, I can speak freely. I stare down at Oliver’s phone, scrolling through the photos that Edward had just taken.

  “I think I’m making the right decision,” I tell him in a soft voice, not wanting to be overheard. “My feelings for him have never faded, never died. Just my trust. But I want to give him a second chance. I love him.”

  Edward nods slowly. His eyes have a faraway look about them, lost in his own thoughts.

  “You should be happy, Miss Hanson. Whatever that means for you. All I ask is to make sure you’re making the right choice before you make it. There’s going to be a little one here soon, one I greatly look forward to meeting. I want this baby to have peace.”

  It’s my turn to nod.

  Edward’s right, of course. This is a risky game now that a child is involved. If we were to split again, it wouldn’t just affect us. It would affect our child. It’s not a decision to make lightly.

  “Thank you for that, Edward,” and I genuinely mean it.

  “Of course, Miss Hanson.”

  He stands from the chair, pausing briefly, “I’d go with the second photo I took. I think it looks the best.”

  “How did you know that was my favorite?”

  He grins as he stands, starting to leave me alone in the room.

  “Because you have good taste,” he calls before disappearing.

  Chapter Twelve

  We announce the engagement through social media, and it creates a whirlwind around us. Instantly people want interviews, they want the inside scoop on us as a couple. It is something that neither Oliver nor I want. Our relationship is ours, whatever that means, whatever we are.

  I notice paparazzi following us around more, snapping photos of everything we do together. As our notoriety as a couple grows, the rumors of me possibly being pregnant grow stronger.

  The rest of my mother’s visit is full of us visiting the typical New York tourist attractions. We don’t speak much about my engagement. We barely mention the pregnancy, but I think it’s because she’s just following my lead. I don’t bring it up. I don’t quite want to talk about it.

  I’m lost in my own thoughts, dealing with the situation at hand. I think everything is okay between Oliver and myself. I think we’re going to figure out how to make it work. I think faking the relationship actually brought us together, helping me get through the mental hang-ups I’ve had about the two of us.

  Days pass after my mom leaves, and I feel positive. I feel like things are falling back into place again for me.

  I reach the second trimester without a hitch, only more nausea and tiredness. We go in for a routine checkup at the fourteen week mark. I think I’ve begun to show. Oliver says he can’t tell, but I think he’s just being nice. We sit together in the lobby, holding hands. I’m expecting it to be a routine checkup for me, just to make sure things are going well.

  “Miss Hanson?” the nurse calls out to us from the back, and we walk back to the exam room together, still holding hands.

  She leaves us in the exam room and Dr. Johnson ent
ers. She always seems to look Oliver up and down when she sees us, like she doesn’t quite know what to make of him. I think a lot of people feel that way about him.

  She begins the checkup, asking questions about where I am with things and how I’ve been feeling. She asks if we’d like an updated ultrasound, just to see the baby, and Oliver jumps to it.

  “Absolutely” he tells her with a smile.

  I think it’s adorable how excited he is to see our child.

  I lay back on the exam table and lift my shirt, wincing as the cold gel is spread on my stomach. Oliver stands off to the side and holds my hand, watching as the ultrasound tech starts up the machine and places the transducer on my stomach.

  The image of our child appears on the screen within seconds. The same black and white image as the first time I saw it. This time the little bean is so much bigger. It looks like an actual baby now, not just a little blip. I look up at Oliver, our fingers still entwined, and smile. He’s smiling from ear to ear just looking at it and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.

  I want to continue seeing him smile like this. I want to see him this happy forever because it’s endearing. It’s different than how I always see him, stoic and lost in thought, worried, stressed. He looks purely happy and I love it.

  The tech, a blonde woman around the same age as me, speaks up, interrupting our little moment.

  “Do you two want to know the gender?” she asks.

  I look away from Oliver, turning my attention back to her.

  “Isn’t it too early? Dr. Johnson said sixteen weeks was our sweet spot...”

  “That’s generally when we tell people, but I can tell very clearly what your baby is. I’ll only tell you if you want to know. If you’d rather wait until sixteen weeks just to be sure, that’s fine, but I don’t think the opinion is going to change.”

  I look away from her, looking back at Oliver.

  I tilt my head to the side, “Wanna know?”

  I see him thinking, I watch as his brows knit together as he looks from the machine to me and then back again.

  “Let’s find out,” he decides, and I nod.