“You woke me up, Simone,” Wesley whispers, sliding his hand up to the nape of my neck. He crushes his lips to mine, then pulls back. “I was asleep, and you woke me up.”
My heart flips in my chest. It squeezes and releases and does its best to jump through my ribcage. I let out a trembling breath, not knowing what to say.
I could tell Wes I feel the same way. That I’ve been crawling through the past decade of my life, feeling like the weight of the world keeps me from standing up. He jerked me to my feet and showed me what it feels like to run again. To feel the wind in my hair and be free.
There are too many words though, too many feelings. Whatever’s happening between Wes and me is so new, so fragile. If I say all those things, will he pull back? Will it ruin our arrangement? Will he retreat into himself again and leave me out in the cold?
Instead of speaking, I just angle my mouth against his. We kiss, panting, and palm at each other like two teenagers in heat. My body is on fire, and all I want is Wes, Wes, Wes.
Then an elephant starts stomping up the stairs, and I freeze. A meaty fist bangs on the door, and Sean’s voice calls out behind me.
“Wes! You made Alina cry, you childish piece of shit. Are you in there?”
I freeze, a bucket of ice water launched over my body. I’m stuck somewhere between blind lust and fear of being caught with my breasts flying free.
“Give me a second,” Wes calls out, tugging my clothing back onto my shoulders before moving to his own half-removed shirt. We fumble with our clothes and I stand. Wes struggles to lift himself onto the bed, wincing as his injured limb drags across the floor. By the time he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, a thin sheen of sweat covers his forehead and temples, but I don’t think it’s from our little make-out session. It’s from pain.
I’d forgotten he was injured. I was so caught up in my own lust that I forgot his ankle was in pieces. Cursing myself, I nod to Wes and head to the door. Sean’s angry face greets me on the other side. He startles when he sees me, then drops his shoulders and looks past me. “You made my fiancée upset, boy. I thought I could leave it, but she’s still crying.”
Wes combs his hand through his hair as he releases a long sigh, shrugging. “I’m sorry. I saw her in here and I freaked out. I’ll talk to her in the morning.”
Sean’s lips pinch and he stares Wes down for a few moments, then turns on his heels and walks back down the stairs. I release a breath and close my eyes, the last of the heat escaping my veins. Picking up Wes’s crutches from the floor, I help him to his feet and open the door for him, leading him back to our room.
We don’t say anything until we’re behind another closed door. The moment is over. I don’t regret it, but I can tell we won’t be continuing where we left off tonight. Maybe not ever. There’s tension in Wes’s face, his shoulders, his posture.
Fucking Sean. He had to refer to Alina as his fiancée just then, too. Another ill-concealed barb to remind Wesley of his past. Maybe a jab at me, too. A reminder of all the complicated relationships that existed long before I was in the picture.
A reminder that maybe all I am to Wes is a way for him to get his parents’ trust money, a way for him to keep this house.
What was I thinking, kissing him? Straddling him? Letting him rip my clothes off? Lust fogged up my brain and I couldn’t think straight. Now what, I’m supposed to go back to being Wes’s fake girlfriend for a few grand a month? Does sex negate that arrangement? Stupid, stupid, stupid! I shouldn’t have given in to these urges.
I reach for my sleep clothes and avoid Wes’s eyes until he drops his crutch and hops over to me, catching my hand. When I lift my gaze up to meet his, I see softness in his eyes.
He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I don’t regret kissing you, Simone.”
Oh. Right. I bite my lip and nod. “Me neither.”
“I think we should take things slow. Things are…complicated.”
“Yeah.”
“And”—he moves closer, his breath warming my cheek—“I want my ankle to be healed before we take things further. I want to be able to do all the things I’ve imagined. Anything less than that isn’t enough.”
My heart skips a beat. His ankle won’t be able to take his weight for another five weeks. I close my eyes and lean into him, nodding. “Let’s go to bed, then.”
Wes’s eyes sparkle. He brushes his lips over mine, the movement soft, tender. That kiss—barely a touch—tells me more than the passion we shared earlier. It says he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t regret this, and he wants to take it further.
Maybe this fake relationship isn’t so fake after all.
18
Simone
I’m up before anyone else, as the sun is just painting the sky in pastel pinks to chase the night away. Throwing a glance at Wes’s sleeping figure, I shrug on a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie, and some thick socks. When I get downstairs, I pull on my shoes and duck out the door.
My feet take me down to the coast, where the steep shoreline falls down ten feet to collapse into the ocean. Walking along the edge, the scent of salt-laden air and lush forest fills my lungs. A smile tugs at my lips at the thought of what happened last night.
At least something went right, finally—but now it’s time to put on my big-girl pants and face my best friend. Fiona always wakes up early, and I’d like to catch her before she leaves for the café. My feet carry me along the coast until I see a familiar pier jutting into the ocean.
No one’s in the water, unsurprisingly. It’s freezing out. I turn up the dirt path, pass the outdoor shower, and make my way up and over the grassy knoll toward the house. The lights are on in the kitchen, and I see Fiona look up from the sink when I approach. She lifts a soapy hand to wave, and moments later she’s at the back door.
It opens a sliver as Fiona uses her hip to prop it open as she dries her hands on a kitchen towel. “Hey.”
“I come in peace,” I say, palms up.
Fiona’s lips tilt into a grin. “Coffee?”
“I wouldn’t say no.”
I watch her move around the kitchen like she’s lived here her whole life. There’s a new fruit bowl on the butcher’s block island, and a stack of papers that looks like Clancy’s homework. When we first arrived in Heart’s Cove, Fiona and I ended up staying with Grant. This place felt like home the moment we walked in, but it’s even more apparent now. It’s warmer than it was a few months ago. More lived-in.
People might call it a woman’s touch, but I think it’s just the physical manifestation of love. The growing love between Grant, Fiona, and Clancy is so obvious in all the little touches around the kitchen and living room, in the sense of comfort and peace in here.
Fiona hums to herself as she pours me a mug, then nods to the French doors. “Let’s talk outside. I can turn on the outdoor heater if it’s too chilly.”
I follow her out and take a seat in one of the porch chairs, watching her roll over an electric heater and set it between us. We sip our coffee in silence for a few moments until I finally take a deep breath and speak.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Clancy.”
Fiona smiles at me, no animosity lining her face. “Thanks. Forgiven.”
“Just like that?”
“By the time I got home last night, I wasn’t mad anymore.”
A breath leaves my lungs, relief flooding me. I hadn’t realized how worried I was about Fiona being angry with me. Between last night’s kiss—well, more than a kiss—with Wesley and today’s conversation with Fiona, I might actually be catching a break.
“You made me think,” Fiona continues, wrapping her fingers around her mug, “about the way we’ve been dealing with Clancy. I think she turned to you because you treat her like an adult—or at least more so than Grant and I do.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” I snort, shaking my head. “She didn’t exactly follow through with telling you two about the party.”
&
nbsp; “No, but she went there and didn’t drink. She called a grown-up to come pick her up instead of getting in the car with someone who was drunk. She stuck by Allie’s side. She made a lot of good decisions, apart from lying to us about going to the party. It made me think that maybe we need to give her a bit more freedom. I spoke to Grant about it last night, and I think he saw where I was coming from. If we give her more responsibility, she’ll step up. If we keep treating her like a child, she’ll rebel.”
“Is Grant mad at Clancy?”
“Yeah.”
“Mm.” I take a sip, letting the hot coffee warm me. “Is he mad at me?”
Fiona pauses for a beat. “Yeah. But he’ll come around.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She reaches over and pats my arm. “What about you? How are you feeling? That wasn’t exactly a perfect Thanksgiving.”
I huff a laugh. “Nope, it wasn’t.”
Fiona stares out at the ocean for a few moments before speaking. “What… What’s going on with you and Wes? You never even told me you were attracted to him, let alone dating him, but Clancy told me Alina thinks you’ve been together a while, and the way you were acting last night…” She frowns. “First it’s just a project you’re helping him with, and now you’re staying at his place and hosting his family?”
I bite my lip. How much should I tell her? If I tell her about the fake girlfriend thing, I risk the whole town knowing. But if I don’t, I’m no better than her teenage kid. Lying and hiding what’s going on.
Fiona’s my best friend. We came to this town together. We’ve been through divorces and breakups and grieved each other’s parents together. She was by my side when I had my miscarriage and cheered me on when I started dating after the divorce. If I start lying to her now, it’s tarnishing all those decades of friendship. The past two weeks have been awful, and it’s because I’ve been making decisions I wouldn’t normally make.
Last night, I didn’t hold back when I kissed Wes. I was true to myself. This morning, I looked for Fiona because I wanted to be honest with her, too.
I can’t stop now.
Turning to my best friend, I catch her studying my face. She tilts her head, the edges of her dark hair brushing her shoulders. “Fi, you can’t tell anyone about this.”
Her eyes glimmer. “About what?”
“I mean it. Not Grant, definitely not Clancy, and no way can you tell Dorothy or Margaret.”
A smile tugs at Fiona’s lips. “Cross my heart.”
“I’m serious.”
“I’ll take it to my grave.”
As she brings her cup of coffee to her lips and stares at me over the edge, I almost lose my nerve. I shouldn’t tell her. Once I tell her, I’m putting it out in the open. I agreed to have a fake relationship with a guy. I’m faking this whole thing—and I might be falling for him while I’m doing it. What kind of person does that make me?
But Fiona just sits there, waiting for me to speak. The waves crash in the distance, and the electric heater whirrs between us.
With a deep breath, I begin. “When I asked Wesley to lease us his parents’ café space, he asked me for something in exchange.”
Fiona’s eyes widen. “Simone! Did you tell him you’d have sex with him for the lease?”
“No!” A laugh bubbles up. “No, God no. I swear.”
Fiona lets out a breath and leans back. “I almost just smacked you.”
“Violence is never the answer.”
“Says the woman who burned her ex-husband’s clothing in a barrel.”
“Since when is burning an inanimate object considered violence?”
Fiona purses her lips, but I know that look on her face. She’s trying to hide a smile. Her brows arch. “You were saying?”
“Well, see, Wes’s uncle was coming to town, and Wes knew he’d be expecting luxury, so he hired me to be the maid.”
Fiona snorts, and I throw her a death glare. She waves her hand for me to continue.
“So the uncle shows up with his new girlfriend, Alina, who happens to be Wes’s ex-fiancée.”
Fiona’s eyes widen. “No.”
“Yep.”
“Wow.” She blinks and shakes her head. “That’s…wow.”
“I know, right? Anyway, I think Wes panicked. I happened to be standing next to him, and when he saw his ex, he just put his arm around me and pulled me close, then introduced me as his girlfriend.”
“He…” Fiona’s lips twitch as a little laugh escapes her. She glances at me, lips pinched together so hard her cheeks are starting to bulge. Another little giggle, then, “I would pay good money to see your face when he did that.” She doubles over and lets her laughter overtake her.
“Laugh it up, Fiona,” I drawl. “I’m sittin’ over here with a mess on my hands, but by all means, keep laughing.”
Between snorts, she manages to say, “I will. Don’t worry, I will.” And laughs some more.
After a few seconds, I can’t hold back any longer and join her. The laughter feels like a release. Like all the stress of the week just leaving my body, like old times with a good friend.
Wiping her eyes, Fiona shakes her head and finally looks at me again. “You’re pretending to be in love with each other…out of spite?”
I bite my lip. There’s the whole trust and inheritance thing, but that’s not my secret to spill. “Essentially, yeah.”
Fiona stares at me for a second, blinking. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And you agreed?”
“What choice did I have? We needed a lease, and he just grabbed me! If I pushed him off and denied I was his girlfriend, he could have turned around and pulled the lease.”
“We could have given him more money. You know, negotiated something normal.”
I shake my head. “He wouldn’t have wanted money.”
“So now…” She frowns. “You’re still pretending? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was only supposed to be for a week. I thought I could get away with it. I guess I was embarrassed. I haven’t been on more than first dates except for that one guy two years ago who lasted two weeks.”
“The sleep-talker?”
“Mm-hm. I thought it would be simpler to do the week and tell no one. But then his uncle decided to stay.”
Fiona blows out a breath, leaning back in her chair. “Wow. At least it wouldn’t be hard to pretend. Wes is hot.”
“Well…yeah. That’s the problem.” I bite my lip. “We…kind of kissed last night.”
“In private?” Her eyes widen, gleaming.
God, it feels good to talk to her. I’ve kept this secret for so long, from the moment Wes and I made this stupid bargain till now. Telling Fiona the truth feels like lifting a weight off my shoulders. All my energy is flowing freely now, no longer blocked by the lies and half-truths. I feel like myself again.
I smile at her, nodding. “Yeah. It was a bit more than a kiss. It was a full-on make-out session.”
She giggles. “Simone. This is such a bad idea.”
“I know.” I groan, closing my eyes. “It’s going to blow up in my face and I’ll have no one to blame but myself.”
Fiona grins, a purely evil expression. “And I get a front-row seat.”
She doesn’t react when I roll my eyes and shoot her a sideways glare. She just laughs harder. Soon I’m giggling with her, feeling the tension in my heart unwind a bit more.
This is us. This is our friendship. Open, honest, fun, supportive.
“I’m glad you told me,” Fiona finally says once we’re done giggling like two schoolgirls. “I knew something was up when I saw those flowers and pillows in Wes’s truck. I thought you were pulling away from me because I started dating Grant.”
“What? No.”
Fiona shrugs. “We came here together, then I found Grant. Then Clancy showed up and I got all wrapped up in this new life. I figured you might feel like I left you behind, and that’s why you weren’t talking
to me. You didn’t feel comfortable being around me when I have all this”—she waves a hand in a small circle—“going on.”
Sighing, I shake my head. “I’m happy for you, Fi. I was embarrassed that the only way I can get a date is by getting a guy to fake it with me.”
“Maybe he’s not faking it.” She nods to the forest, where Wes is hobbling through the trees, swinging on his crutches along a dirt path.
I jump up and rush toward him.
His cheeks are red and sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead, but he grins when I approach.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I glance at the thick forest. “Did you crutch the whole way here?”
“There’s a path that goes straight through between the properties. I knew you’d want to talk to Fiona after last night, and I took a guess that you’d be here. It’s not that far.”
He knows me well enough to know where I’d be. He came looking for me. Something collapses in my chest, but I’m not ready to fully admit it.
Instead, I cross my arms. “Wes.”
“Fine. My arms are sore. Happy?”
“How did you plan on getting back?”
He shrugs a big shoulder. “Same way I came.”
Through the forest. On crutches. Alone. Even though it’s ridiculous, there’s something about seeing him here that warms my chest. I hide it with a glare. “Come sit down, you big oaf. What are you even doing here?”
“I got up and you were gone.” His voice sounds almost…reproachful. He shrugs. “Plus, I thought you might need some moral support.”
Fiona stands up and ushers us inside, where Wesley collapses onto a couch with a groan.
I plant my hands on my hips and stare at him. “You know there’s this invention called the telephone? We even have pocket versions now, so you don’t have to go traipsing through the forest looking for people. You can just call them to check where they are and if they need moral support.”
“But then you wouldn’t call me names and pretend to be mad.”
“Who says I’m pretending?” I arch a brow. When the only response Wes gives me is one of his panty-melting smirks, I spin on my heels to see Fiona grinning at me from ear to ear.
Dirty Little Midlife Mess: A Fake Relationship Romantic Comedy (Heart’s Cove Hotties Book 2) Page 15