Faking for Her

by Roberts, Emma

  “Not even Scott!”

  I nodded. “Good memory. Why are we keeping it secret?” I wasn’t pushing buttons, I was genuinely curious.

  “So it doesn’t get back to my family!”

  Oh, right. She wanted to surprise them like a shotgun blast to the chest. Boom, it was me all along. I was the boyfriend.

  “You got it.” I nodded in agreement and she arched an eyebrow at me. “What? I won’t say anything.”

  “That was too easy.” She tilted her head a tiny bit, suspicion on her face.

  I pressed my lips together and rocked back onto my heels.

  “You swear?”

  “Need my pinkie?” I asked, incredulous. What was this, middle school?

  She nodded. “That would be great.”

  This wasn’t happening. “You really want my pinkie?”

  She nodded again, an earnest expression on her face and thrust her pinkie at me.

  I lifted my hand hesitantly, waiting for her to pull back, make a face and laugh. I wanted more than anything to hear her cackle because she “got me.”

  But as her pinkie locked with mine, and she shook on it, I realized it was not a joke. I was pinkie swearing Laney Harver, and my cock leaped at the knowledge.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Her wide gold and green gaze locked on mine.

  I searched for a reason, not wanting her to know she bowled me over. I pointed at her collar. “Your shirt’s inside out.”

  She made a noise deep in her throat and darted into the kitchen to fix it.

  I took the opportunity to slip out the door, making a beeline for my truck.

  I was a grown man who had just pinkie promised a grown woman not to tell about our relationship. Yep, middle school all over again.

  Behind the wheel, I drove the short distance to my beach and parked on the sand. Scanning the horizon where waves met sky, I thought about her. About the look on her face when I’d shoved her clothing off the hood of my truck and into the sand, right in this spot. About the smooth, creamy skin she’d revealed when she stripped to her bra and panties, following me into the cold water. About the trust in her eyes today as she made me pinkie promise her not to tell anyone.

  I was an idiot playing childish games when I should be focusing on my own life. My real life. This whole fiasco was only making me realize I really want a woman like Laney by my side. Someone to laugh with, face hard times with. Someday, maybe even a wife, kids, a family to call my own. Because my history was mostly unknown, I’d suppressed my desire to have children of my own one day. Even though I knew I still had good knowledge to pass on that I’d earned over the years, despite my unconventional upbringing. I wanted to show a child the love I’d never had as a boy, and I wanted to prove that just because I’d been bounced out of a “broken home” that didn’t mean I was a broken human being.

  I shouldn’t have slept with her again. I didn’t regret it, but doing so was only torturing myself. No matter how perfect I thought she was for me, there was just no hope she’d ever think I was perfect for her. Hell, I didn’t think I was even good for her. After the things she’d suffered at the hands of her awful family, she deserved a doting, perfect Prince Charming, and I sure as hell didn’t fit that wanted poster.

  “You look like shit.”

  I glanced at over at Scott, who had pulled up in his vehicle without my even noticing.

  “Thanks, man. You don’t look much better than shit. How’s your mom?”

  “Weird segue.” He shrugged. “She’s doing good. She was happy to see me. I was at your place pretty much first thing this morning. You weren’t. So what’s up?”

  I searched for an excuse, but Scott was watching me closely, then said, “So how are things with our favorite blast from the past?”

  My brain instantly conjured up the image of Laney’s gasping little breaths as she came all over me. I shrugged. I’d promised—pinkie swore—I wouldn’t tell, and my loyalty was to her first.

  Scott seemed to be sizing me up before he focused on the waves crashing on the beach. The tide was rolling in. “So…you told her you wouldn’t say anything. Right?”

  He was good. “What are you? My BFF? Get off my back, man.” I acted like I was going to roll up my truck window.

  He chuckled. “Want to hit the waves?”

  I glanced at him then back to the beach, tempted.

  “Dude, my mom is exhausting. You’re all bent out of shape.” He held up both hands like he was conceding a point. “No talking. Just the swells.”

  It was an attractive offer. We hadn’t caught a wave together in forever. Not since his seven-year girlfriend broke up with him the same day he was planning to propose to her, the incident that sparked his idea for a long camping trip.

  We spent half the morning taking our frustrations out on the sea, and I finally had a clear mind when I got back to my truck.

  My phone chimed a missed text. It was from Laney.

  Lunch, tomorrow. Details to work out still.

  Not so fast. I texted back, Will Amber be there?

  No!

  Hadn’t we worked out all the details? What is left to discuss?

  I thought of a few things.

  “Is she texting you right now?” There was a grin in Scott’s voice as he loaded up his surfboard.

  “You said no talking.” I texted back, Where?

  The Bistro.

  I knew the little coffee place with its private garden courtyard. We’d be hiding in plain sight and probably no one her parents knew would be there. Clever.

  I responded, I’ll be there.

  I glanced over at Scott. “Let’s have a beer.” I could really use one. I wanted to forget the monster I was willingly becoming for the woman I knew better than to get involved with.

  “Yes.” His fist pump of victory brought a smile to my face.

  11

  Laney

  “You’re late.”

  I stared at Cole sitting smugly at the little white wrought iron table for two. The scent of the blooming flowers on the patio mingled with the scent of coffee was like inhaling a sweetened brew. The little garden enclosed us in a semi-private spot and all the other tables were empty.

  “I thought I had a flat tire.” I had, and it seemed like a good reason to be late to me. Besides, I hadn’t set up this little meeting. Amber had thought she’d be cute, stolen my phone, and invited him to lunch. While it was only about an eight-minute drive up from Reedsport to this little bistro in Winchester, it was still possible for something to go wrong—like a flat tire.

  “Was it flat?” He seemed genuinely concerned, and warmth spread through me like wildfire.

  My cheeks stung. “Well, no.”

  “So what happened?” He gestured to the seat across from him.

  I dropped into it and lowered my purse to the ground at my feet, running the strap over my knee.

  “We can get drinks whenever,” he said.

  I nodded. The bistro wasn’t one of those places where a waiter came to you. It was more like a coffee and pastry shop where you ordered at the counter and picked up your food when it was ready.

  “I was driving over here and heard a loud thunk. Turned out I hit a tree branch and it caught in my wheel well and was making a weird sound. So I pulled over, took it out and here I am.” I smiled at him, proud I’d saved my own day.

  “You know, if you’d left early, it wouldn’t have been a problem.” He was studying me intently with those navy eyes. The smug twist of his full lips made me sit up straighter.

  Anger scorched through me, followed by shame that I’d dragged him into the sham that I was now beholden to.

  “Well, Mr. Perfect, have you never been late before?” I stood up and so did he. Confused, it took a second before it clicked; he thought I was ready to go get drinks when, in reality, I was ready to get the heck out of there. Ready to drop this whole thing if he was going to be a jerk and I was going to have to feel guilty that it was my fault sinc
e we wouldn’t be sitting here if not for my predicament.

  But I still did need a date to my sister’s wedding.

  Dammit.

  I didn’t give away my original intention—leaving—and instead, I matched his pace into the shop.

  “We’re bound to get some uncomfortable questions.” The words burst out of me and he slowed for a second.

  Behind the beautiful, hand-carved wooden counter, a cute barista girl gave us an unsure smile.

  Cole walked up to the counter, and the girl behind it faltered, blinking up at him, stars in her eyes. I wondered if he got reactions like this from females everywhere. Probably.

  “I’d like a black coffee, and whatever she wants.” He turned to me. “Anything you want.”

  The clipped words and the way he was studying me so intently took me back to my bedroom, and I imagined him growling the phrase to me as he covered me with his hard body. My heart fluttered in my chest and my mouth opened but nothing came out.

  He was staring at me, waiting. His lips curved upward at the corners. “Pretty sure they don’t have avocado coffee.”

  I struggled to rid my mind of the image of us in my bed, to say something. Anything.

  “Is that a thing?” I glanced at the girl, but she shook her head. “Aww.” I elbowed Cole and couldn’t hold back a laugh. I loved that he knew about my love of avocados and accepted it, even if he did tease me. “Um, something sweet and vanilla?”

  The girl behind the counter was still fixated on Cole. “Coffee?” She didn’t take her eyes off him even to ask me the question.

  “Yes, please.”

  Cole offered the girl his card and she reached out to take it from him, pressed up against the counter, like he’d just offered her a million bucks.

  “I can pay for mine.” This wasn’t really a date, and the awkward level in the stratosphere had built to an exploding point as the seconds ticked by. I dug into my purse, but Cole fixed me with that glare of his and I froze.

  “My treat,” he growled.

  The girl behind the counter shifted, a shiver running through her.

  I nodded at him, my eyes locked on his as excitement danced in my belly.

  “I’ll bring those out to you.” The sudden change in the girl’s voice snapped me out of the hold Cole had on me and I glanced at her. “You’re just on the patio, right?” She was staring at Cole again, but everything about her was different—the stars in her eyes had changed to disappointment.

  Cole was knotted up tight, every muscle kinked to the extreme. “Yes, and thank you.”

  What the hell had I missed?

  He put his card away and ushered me back out onto the patio. “What kind of uncomfortable questions are you expecting?”

  “A lot of my family doesn’t know you, about your…upbringing.” I sat down and he took the spot across from me, his attention focused on me. Spreading my hands apart, I tried to figure out how to explain.

  “So you’re worried they’ll ask about that.” He shifted, sitting with his spine rigid.

  I nodded. I knew he didn’t like talking about it. But even I didn’t know all that much, other than that he was a foster child and hadn’t found his forever home until he was fifteen. His foster parents, an elderly couple who’d eventually adopted him, had been very kind to him.

  “I wouldn’t know what to tell them.” And it would be expected, as his girlfriend, that I’d be able to answer certain questions.

  He nodded, crossing his arms and leaning back in the seat. “There’s not much to tell. You know I was was raised in the foster system. That I was eventually adopted. I never let that be a crutch or a reason to be a bad person or to act out.”

  My heart broke for him, as it had back then. “It must have been so hard.”

  He shrugged. “At the time. But I’ve come to realize it made me into a blank slate. I had a very real chance to be whatever and whoever I wanted to be. And I rode that train as far as I could. Still going.”

  That puzzled me, and I realized I had no idea what he even did for a living. “So, what do you do?”

  When he didn’t answer, I glanced over my shoulder. The girl from the counter was bringing us our coffee. Her smile was wide and bright and she was locked on Cole like a homing missile. “Here you go.” She bent down in front of him as she placed his coffee on the table in front of him and mine beside it.

  His attention stayed on me, but he gave a polite smile. “Thank you.” Suddenly, I realized why he was keeping his gaze on me; he could see down her shirt and wasn’t going to look.

  “If you need anything else, please come get me.” She was practically purring the words, still bent over, offering him a full view down her shirt, which he still refused to take.

  I grinned, stunned and amused at this whole exchange.

  When she finally got the hint and left, I leaned closer to him. “What did you do? Tip her a hundred bucks?” I laughed. Did women act like this around him everywhere he went? I hoped not.

  He lifted a shoulder, shaking his head.

  “I know we’re only faking it, but thank you for being respectful.”

  His lips eased into a half smile. “How so?”

  “You could have taken in the view. She was begging you to. But you didn’t, you focused on me like a doting, loving boyfriend.” Even now the thought sent tendrils of warmth though me like English ivy, invading every bit of my being.

  “I wasn’t interested.”

  “Why not?” I stared at him, confused. The girl was cute. Heck, if I were a guy and she’d been hitting on me that hard, I couldn’t honestly have said I wouldn’t have looked.

  His eyebrows furrowed as he fixed his intense blue eyes on me. I shifted, feeling uncomfortable as he glared, intensity rolling off him like fog off a river. “I’m not interested in just finding someone to sleep with.”

  It was the deepest thing he’d shared with me, possibly ever. “What are you interested in?” I put both elbows on the table and leaned closer to him as the rich scent of coffee filled my nose.

  He lifted his cup, staring into it like it was a crystal ball with all the answers. “Someone to go on adventures with. Someone who wants to explore ghost towns with me, go kayaking on lakes we’ve never been too, someone driven by curiosity. Not some bimbo who wants me because I have—” He snapped his jaws closed and gritted his teeth.

  “Have what?”

  But he was staring over my shoulder, his eyes narrowing.

  “Cole! Imagine seeing you here.” The man’s voice nagged at my memory.

  The guy stopped at our table, his smile wide and his easy walk telling me he knew just how handsome he was. He looked vaguely familiar.

  His attention shifted to me and dimples deepened in his cheeks as his eyes ticked back to Cole. “Are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

  I glanced at Cole, silently begging him to…I didn’t know. Did I want him to roll with the girlfriend lie? Or give the truth away?

  I offered my hand. “Laney. Nice to meet you. You’re friends with Cole?” I glanced at Cole, who was watching us through narrowed eyes.

  The guy nodded, and shooting a look at Cole, bent over my hand and gave it a heart-stopping kiss. “I am. I believe we met a long time ago. I’m Scott Moss.”

  And it clicked. Scott. Cole’s best friend. How could I have forgotten him?

  “Too bad you’re dating this fool. I’d love to take you out for a nice dinner. Nicer than this place.” Scott’s blue-green eyes and quick smile were all the proof I needed that he didn’t have any trouble getting women.

  “I’m flattered. But as you can see, I’m with Cole.” A turndown, and at the same time noncommittal. I kept my tone bright and cheery so the rejection wouldn’t sting as much, but he didn’t even slow down.

  “Well, of course you’d say that, he’s right here.” Scott’s easygoing demeanor and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners were disarming, and I smiled. “I’m single—”

  “Scott,
she’s not interested.” Cole’s voice didn’t hold anger, but something about the way he said it was so final a bolt of shock stabbed through me.

  A low hum began between my hips. For some reason, his absolute answer heated me up in the strangest way.

  Scott seemed to get it finally, and his smile cooled. “Well, I need to get going. It’s been a pleasure.” With a nod to Cole, he slipped back out the way he’d come.

  “Well, that was strange. Guess we’re both irresistible today, huh?”

  Cole set down his coffee cup. “He was flirting with you to fuck with me.”

  His direct aim punctured my confidence. “Well, he seemed serious.”

  “He wasn’t.”

  “Why do you have such a problem with that?”

  “Why are you so happy that he’s into you?” His glare hit me full-force and my chest ached. Why was he being so rude about this? I wasn’t rude about the girl flirting with him! Besides, I’d handled it every bit as respectfully as he had, so why was he so upset?

  “You’re being a jerk about this.” I picked up my coffee and took a drink of the hot liquid. It was perfectly sweet and the vanilla was delicious. “Remember, this isn’t real.” I gestured between us.

  He stiffened like I’d hit him, then relaxed. “You’re right.” He offered me his hand. “Truce?”

  I nodded, relieved. “Truce.” I took his hand and shook, trying to ignore the jolt of heat that passed between us.

  “Why don’t we try this again tomorrow? I have work waiting.”

  I nodded. A strange excitement still curled through me as I remembered how he’d told Scott I wasn’t interested. “Sounds good. I still have questions for you.”

  We stood up at the same time, coffees in hand. “I love ghost towns, by the way. Know any good ones?” The olive branch I was offering wasn’t a lie. I was fascinated with ghost towns and had been for a long time. I just wasn’t brave enough to go alone and Amber was frightened by ghost stories, so I didn’t have a good companion.