Fake Fiancée Can’t Get Enough

by Hamel, B. B.

  But fuck fair. That’s what people say, right? Life isn’t fair. Well, life took away my mother, one of my best friends in this damn bleak world, and now I’m going to direct my anger wherever the fuck I want.

  I close my eyes. Deep breath. Let it out.

  I can’t get riled up again. We’re here to talk business. Seeing Grace yesterday wasn’t a good thing for me. I got fucked up after she left and now I have a hangover headache poking at my skull. I almost welcome the discomfort though.

  It’s a little past noon and I look around the park. I don’t expect her to show up. Why would she? I mean, marrying me, a man that genuinely hates her, would be stupid. She doesn’t owe me a damn thing, either. She’s not her brother, she didn’t kill my mother. She wasn’t the one that got fucked up and decided to drive head first into my mother’s car.

  That was her scumbag brother. May he get shanked in prison, survive, only to be shanked again.

  Seeing her yesterday woke something up inside of me. I’m not sure what it was, and I’m not sure I like it, but I can still feel it deep inside me. There’s my anger, still there, still hot and simmering right alongside my grief. But now there’s something else.

  I remember seeing her at the trial, but only from a distance. She was always there, sitting with her parents, quiet and sad. They didn’t speak up for him. They didn’t look upset when he was sentenced to twenty years. They simply accepted it and moved on.

  I didn’t think I’d see her again. But now she’s back in my life, and I’m not totally sure I understand why.

  I shut my eyes again. Breathe in, hold it, let it go.

  When I open them, she’s walking down the path, pushing a bike.

  Fucking hell. I feel it again, a little spark in my stomach. Grace is beautiful, absolutely fucking stunning. She’s wearing tight jeans, a light tan jacket, and a cute winter hat. Her long auburn hair falls down to the middle of her shoulder blades and her legs are like a mile long. Her curves make my blood pound in my ears, more than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life.

  And goddamn, I hate her. I don’t care how fucking sexy she is, how goddamn attracted I am to her. Her brother murdered my mother. And I hate her fucking guts.

  “Hi,” she says.

  I nod at her. “Didn’t expect you to show.”

  “I’m here.”

  She stands there for a second. I keep looking at her, repulsed by my own desire for her, so angry at the whole damn world. She lingers before leaning her bike against the bench and sitting down next to me. There’s a metal armrest between us, but she stays at her far end and I stay at mine.

  “How are you?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “We should talk about our wedding.”

  She bites her lip a little. “Okay. Sure. I guess so.”

  “We should have rules. Ground rules. So we don’t fuck this up.”

  “Right. Okay.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out. “First of all, this is strictly business. I’ll forgive you when it’s over, but I don’t have to like you.”

  “I can handle that.”

  “Good.” I meet her eyes. “Because I don’t like you, Grace.”

  She nods a little. “Fine.”

  I force myself to look away. “We’ll need to learn everything about each other. Because it’s a fast wedding and we just met, we should have some leeway. People will think we’re both just grieving or whatever, but legally speaking, they won’t be able to stop it.”

  “That’s fine,” she says. “I can do that.”

  “Good.” I let out a breath. “You’ll move in with me then.”

  She doesn’t speak for a second. “Into your mom’s house.”

  I nod. “Right.”

  “Nathan…” She trails off.

  I look at her again. “What?”

  “Is it the healthiest thing? For you to stay there?”

  I give her a flat stare. “Frankly, Grace, I don’t give a shit what you think.”

  “Fine. I’m just saying. It’s a little strange, is all.”

  “I’m staying there until her estate is finished and I can sell the place. My apartment was easier to sublet.”

  “Right, okay, that makes sense.” She chews on her lip again. I find it both incredibly cute and insanely annoying. “Different bedrooms, right?”

  “You want to sleep in bed with me, Grace? Seems pretty fucked up.”

  “No, I mean, I’m just thinking about logistics.”

  “Yeah, different bedrooms.” I clasp and unclasp my hands. “What do you do?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “For a living. Your job.”

  “Oh. I’m a vet tech. There’s a clinic on third and Spruce—”

  “Good,” I say, cutting her off. “So you can chip in for bills. You buy your own food, I’ll buy mine.”

  “Roommates,” she says. “Okay.”

  “Exactly. Roommates. You stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours. We’ll talk only as much as we have to until we can divorce.”

  She’s quiet for a moment. “How long will that be?”

  “Years.”

  She takes a long breath and slowly lets it out. “Okay.”

  “Ten years, maybe. Who knows.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “I’m sure.” I look at her again. “We can date other people, but only if you’re discreet. You can’t ruin this just because you want to get fucked by some—”

  “Okay, okay,” she says. “I get it.”

  I nod once and let it drop. “We’ll need to provide evidence that our marriage is real. So we’ll have to… do things together. Take pictures, go on vacations. We’ll have to lie to everyone in our lives. Can you really handle this?”

  She looks at me for a long moment. “I think so. Can you?”

  I smirk at her. “I have nothing left to lose.”

  “Your life isn’t over, you know. I know losing your mother is hard, it’s just—”

  “It’s not just my mother,” I interrupt her. “It’s the whole business. All my friends at the company, my entire life here in this city. I can lose it all if I’m kicked back to Canada.”

  “Right. I know, it’s just… you’re going to have to lie too.”

  I nod slowly. I’d thought about it, long and hard. But she’s right. It’s not going to be easy.

  “I can handle it.”

  “Okay then.” She takes a long breath and lets it out slowly. “Let’s do this.”

  I stare at her and she looks back. Her eyes are blue, although yesterday they looked almost green. She’s pretty with wide, full lips, little freckles on her cheeks, and an easy, trusting smile. I have the sudden, insane urge to kiss her.

  Or maybe to throw her off the fucking bench.

  I don’t do either. Instead, I fish around in my jacket until I find what I’m looking for. I get up and look around.

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  “Getting started,” I grunt at her. I spot a nice older gentleman walking past and I flag him down. “Excuse me, sir. Can you do me a favor? Just a quick picture.”

  He looks startled but he takes my phone. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  I drop down onto one knee in front of Grace.

  I can’t tell who I startled more, Grace or the random guy with my phone. He curses, nearly drops it. “Hold on. Hold on! Let me… let me get a video!”

  “Pictures,” I snap at him then turn back to Grace. She’s staring at me, mouth wide open. “Grace, will you marry me?”

  I hold out the ring. She stares at it and I can hear the guy snapping photos behind me. Her eyes go wide and she’s doing her best impression of a happy, surprised girlfriend.

  But there’s a darkness behind her eyes. I feel it too.

  “Yes,” she says and I slip the ring onto her finger.

  I’m surprised when it fits perfectly.

  We stand up and hug tightly. The man cheers and a few other people come over. There’s clapping, la
ughter. I hug Grace tight, the first time we’ve ever touched, and I look down into her eyes.

  For the fucking evidence, I think to myself, and I kiss her.

  She’s surprised again, but she keeps playing along.

  Good girl.

  We kiss long and slow. Her lips are surprisingly soft and warm and delicious against my own and I can feel my heart racing. I hold her tight and let the kiss linger, making sure the guy gets plenty of pictures, before turning away.

  I laugh and wave at the crowd and grab my phone back from the guy. People say their congratulations while Grace drops back down onto the bench, staring at her ring.

  I join her as the crowd disperses.

  “You could’ve warned me,” she says softly.

  “Didn’t feel like it,” I reply. “You did good.”

  “Thanks.” She pauses. “Was that kiss necessary?”

  “It’d be weird if I didn’t kiss you.” I look at her. “Don’t worry. I didn’t fucking enjoy it.”

  She looks back at me, is about to say something, but thinks better of it. “What now?”

  “Now, we need to get married.”

  “How?”

  “Courthouse. I’ll make the appointment. Probably won’t be for a few days though, maybe even a few weeks. I’m not sure what the law is in Pennsylvania.”

  “Okay.” She looks nervous again then glances at the ring. “You just… you just had this?”

  I stand up. “Give me your number.”

  She fishes her phone from her pocket and hands it to me. I type my number in then call myself. I hand her phone back when I’m done.

  “Okay. I’ll text you the details. Just make sure you’re available.”

  “Right.” She stands.

  I feel like I should kiss her. People are probably still watching. Still wondering… but it doesn’t matter. I have what I needed.

  Pictures. Proof that this is real, even if it’s far from real.

  “Pack your shit up too. You’ll move in as soon as we leave the courthouse.”

  She nods a little and I turn to leave.

  “Nathan,” she says.

  I look back. “What?”

  “Try not to hate me so much. We’re going to live together, so, I mean… it might be easier, if you didn’t hate me.”

  I just stare at her. “It would be easier for you, wouldn’t it?”

  I turn and walk away. I don’t need to hear what she has to say.

  But as I go, I keep feeling that kiss on my lips. It’s lingering, buzzing, making my body shake with it. Fucking hell, it felt good, tasted good, and I didn’t want it to stop.

  Which is confusing, considering I hate her goddamn guts.

  Doesn’t matter. We won’t be doing much kissing from here on out. We’ll do the bare minimum, only as much as needed, and no more. We’ll get through this, and when it’s over, I’ll be a citizen. I can find a way to get my mother’s company back, or I can start my own.

  And I won’t ever, ever, ever have to see Grace’s face again in my entire life.

  Good riddance. Just a few years and it’ll be over forever.

  3

  Grace

  I never thought the groom would be late to my own wedding.

  The judge gives me a long look as I stand there in his chambers. I smile nervously, shifting from foot to foot. “He’ll be here,” I say.

  The judge, an older man with gray hair and jowls drooping down to his shoulders, just keeps on frowning at me.

  I can only guess what he’s thinking. But I bet it’s nowhere near the truth.

  I’m about to enter into a marriage with a man that hates me. I think the word “hate” is probably an understatement.

  He loathes me.

  But I’m doing it anyway.

  I don’t know if this is the right thing to do. I don’t know if he somehow deserves this because of what my brother did. All I know is, if I don’t do something to try and make up for the death of Nathan’s mother, I think I might go crazy with guilt.

  And so here I am, wearing a nice, plain white dress, and waiting for my groom.

  He shows up a few minutes later. He’s breathless, wearing a rumpled suit, and he still somehow looks incredible. He gives me a look as he sweeps into the room, halfway between hate and surprise, before looking at the judge.

  “I’m sorry, your honor,” he says. “I got lost.”

  “Well. You left your bride standing here like a fool.”

  I frown. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  The judge huffs. “Are you two ready?”

  Nathan looks at me for a moment, his eyes roaming down my body. I’m suddenly very aware that the dress isn’t exactly season-appropriate. It shows off my legs and is a little low-cut, just enough to give a hint of cleavage. It was the only white dress I owned and I wasn’t about to go buy a new one for this. And I’d be damned if I didn’t get married in white.

  “Ready,” he says.

  The ceremony takes about two minutes. The judge shoves a paper toward us, has us sign it, says a little speech he clearly made up, then pronounces us married.

  “You may kiss, if you want,” he says.

  I look at Nathan. For the second time in our lives, he wraps his arms around me, and we kiss.

  It’s brief this time, shorter than the one at the park. But his lips are almost rough, sensual, incredible. I feel that thrill run down my spine again as he presses my body against his.

  We break apart. “Thank you, your honor,” he says.

  The judge just grunts. “I’m running behind now.”

  We’re ushered out of there and back through the courthouse. We have our paperwork, everything official. “Just need to mail some shit,” Nathan grumbles.

  “Why were you late?”

  He shoots me a look. “I really did get lost,” he says. “Do you care?”

  “Just doesn’t look good that you were late to our wedding.”

  He rolls his eyes and doesn’t bother responding.

  We ride the elevator downstairs together and head out into the chilly Philadelphia fall. I pull my jacket on, wishing I hadn’t bothered wearing white at all. Clearly he doesn’t give a shit about any of this.

  “Is your stuff packed?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Good.” He stops in front of a rented U-Haul van and pats the side of it. “This is why I got lost. Not used to driving in this damn city.”

  I smile a little bit. “For me?”

  “Not sure how else you planned on moving all your shit. Come on, let’s get this over with.”

  I sigh a little and open the passenger side. “I know you hate me, but would it kill you to try and be a little pleasant?”

  His glare tells me that yes, yes, it would kill him.

  I lean back and we drive to my apartment in silence, except for the directions. When we get there, I jump out first. “Stay here,” I say. “Let me get changed.”

  He shakes his head. “Nope. We’re packing you up as fast as we can. Come on, you can get changed with me there.”

  I frown a little bit but decide not to push. We head into my building, ride the elevator up, and walk down the hall to my place.

  It’s a small apartment. One bedroom, one bathroom, one tiny kitchen, one tiny living room. It’s cozy though, comfortable. Most of my stuff is packed into boxes. The essentials, anyway.

  “I’m getting changed,” I say, and slip back into the bedroom. I shut the door and sit down on my bed, the mattress bare now, and stare at the floor.

  I just got married. Oh, god, I really just got married.

  There’s no turning back now. If I was having second thoughts, it doesn’t matter. If I try to take it back, I’ll probably wind up in jail alongside my addictive asshole brother.

  My fingers curl into the mattress and I slowly let out a breath. It takes a little while to calm down, and I barely hear it when the door opens again in the other room.

  I start to slip off my dress. It f
alls to the floor and I’m wearing only my bra and panties when he barges in.

  “How long does it—”

  The words die on his lips.

  I turn to him, hands at my side, too surprised to even cover myself. He stares at me, and I swear there’s lust in his expression. I feel him looking at my full breasts, I watch him look at my legs, my stomach, back up to my lips. There’s a long silence between us.

  “There are more boxes out there,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

  He nods, his gaze moving back to anger. “Hurry up,” he says, and leaves.

  He shuts the door behind him and I let out a breath.

  God, I’ve never been looked at like that in my life. He looked like he wanted to run in here, rip my clothes off, fuck me rough and mindless. It was pure, animal desire.

  And not a little bit of anger.

  I feel myself shiver before I pull on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt.

  He’s gone when I finally come out of my room. I grab a box and carry it into the hall, into the elevator, and down to the van. We pass in silence and he barely even glances in my direction.

  It takes a depressingly short amount of time to throw my stuff into his U-Haul. I’m keeping the apartment, just as a backup, so not everything is packed. But still, I don’t know how I can fit it all into a handful of boxes, but there it is, shoved into the back of the van. Nathan leans against the side of the truck, frowning at me.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  “I don’t get why you’re in such a hurry.”

  “I like to try to get unpleasant things done as fast as I can.”

  “Don’t be a dick,” I say, snapping at him without thinking. I’m not sure why I do it. I think I’m just having a strange emotional moment, looking at all my boxes stacked haphazardly.

  He frowns at me for a second, almost puzzled. But slowly he shakes his head. “Don’t bother growing a spine now, Grace. I’m not buying it.”

  He walks away and gets in the van, starting the engine without a word.

  I want to scream at him. He’s being such a fucking prick. I get it, okay, my brother killed his mother. Goddamn it, though, I’m risking my entire life to help him now. He can at least show me a little kindness.

  I shut my eyes and take a deep breath, choking a little on the van exhaust. I slam the door and step onto the sidewalk.