Josh's Fake Fiancee (Military Men Book 5)

by Shelley Munro

  “Oh. Well. I trust Robert implicitly. We met at a meeting of the Young Labor party. I was twenty and Robert twenty-four.”

  “Did he not want to stand for a seat?” Gerry asked. “I thought that was the goal of all youngsters.”

  “Yes, but the senior party officials award the positions to those they consider have the best shot of winning. Robert is steady and reliable, but he can be standoffish with those he doesn’t know well. He says himself he prefers to stay behind the scenes. We work well together, and I couldn’t run a successful campaign without him.” Shock filled Ashley’s expression. “I can’t believe he’d harm me or upset the campaign. He’s blunt. If he has a problem with something I do or say, he tells me to my face. What he wouldn’t do is skulk in the shadows or use violence.”

  “Do you know his boyfriend?” Josh asked.

  “No,” Ashley said.

  “Did he give a name?” Nelson demanded, fingers poised over his phone.

  “No,” Josh said.

  “We need to check out the partner. Especially since Ashley hasn’t met him. It’s the sort of thing workmates share between each other. Partners come to parties and other social functions, no?” Nelson turned to glance at Ashley.

  “Not if the relationship is new,” she said. “I hadn’t mentioned Josh to anyone, mainly because he was in the military and he couldn’t attend because he was overseas. With me, it was a security matter, yet none of you are looking into Josh’s background.”

  The pulsing silence had Josh barking out a laugh. “They have checked me out, sweetheart.”

  “You did?”

  “He appeared suddenly in your life.” Nelson shrugged his unconcern.

  “Because I was with the New Zealand Special Air Service,” Josh said. “As is Ashley’s older brother. That’s how Ashley and I met.”

  “You checked out,” Nelson said.

  “I can’t believe you suspected Josh,” Ashley said hotly. “Did you check on me as well? Did you wonder if I was making up this stuff?”

  “It’s standard procedure.” Nelson’s rumbly voice remained even and non-judgmental.

  “That’s so wrong. As a public figure, I get that all the time. It’s part of the job description, but Josh shouldn’t have to put up with this crap.” Ashley heaved out a hard sigh. “I get it. I do. You’re trying to do your job and stop the threat, but you’re investigating my life, and it feels intrusive.”

  “Robert was cagey about his relationship. Oh, he was polite, and I was asking nosey questions, but something in his manner… It was off. Maybe he isn’t sure of his partner, or perhaps they’d fought this morning,” Josh said.

  “We’ll dig deeper,” Gerry said.

  Nelson picked up his phone again and rang someone. He rattled off the particulars and issued instructions.

  “Where are we going today?” Josh asked.

  “We’re visiting the Hobbits.” Ashley wiggled on her seat, enthusiasm digging a deep grin into her face. “Where they filmed some of the scenes for Lord of the Rings. I adored the movies, and I’ve wanted to visit Hobbiton for ages. A perk of the job.”

  Hobbits, as it turned out, lived in holes, but their places of residence were cute. The entire village was set on farmland in Matamata, and instead of destroying the filmset after the movie was done, the farm owner and Sir Peter Jackson had turned it into a tourist attraction and created jobs for some of the locals.

  Along with Ashley, Gerry, Nelson, and their guide, they trod the paths between the Hobbit holes and listened to stories relating to the filming and the various actors. They learned about making the set and what it took to keep it in pristine condition for visitors.

  The attention to detail at each of the Hobbit homes amazed Josh. The baker had loaves of bread for sale at his gate. The fisherman’s drying racks for his fish sat outside for all to see. Even the beekeeper’s house fascinated Josh with its hive and the pots of honey.

  Ashley spoke to workers, the site owners, gardeners, and fellow tourists. The isolation of the fastest growing tourist attraction in New Zealand allowed Josh, Nelson, and Gerry to relax their guard a tad. Entrance to the site was controlled, and visitors were bused to the area, which lessened his worry of a shooter.

  Josh snapped photos, including some of Ashley, which he figured her office could use. Nope. He might as well admit the truth to himself. The images of Ashley were for him. In them, she was relaxed and laughing, and when this was over, and their engagement ended, he’d have a way of remembering her.

  His throat tightened. Walking away was the last thing he wanted, but he’d promised Frog. Josh was a man of his word.

  Except, he’d slipped.

  He’d made love to Ashley, and not even the guilt pressing on him was enough to make him sorry they’d carved out a slice of heaven for themselves last night. In a short time, he’d come to care for her.

  Josh ambled along the gravel path, following the guide who was showing them around. The grass on the hills in the village and beyond was the same dazzling green he saw each time he visited home. Flowers bloomed in the gardens set around the Hobbit holes, and pumpkins and other winter vegetables awaited harvest in the produce garden while pears still hung on a nearby tree. It was apparent to him—a country boy—how much work went on behind the scenes.

  And that thought led to another. What the hell was he going to do with his life?

  Straight out of school, he’d not hesitated to join the army. But after Dillon had left, Josh had started to reassess too. He’d seen enough to suffer nightmares, done his bit for his country, and determined he was ready to shift to the next phase. While he had no regrets leaving instead of re-upping, he wished the hell he could get a grip on his future.

  “Hey,” Ashley murmured. “Are you okay?”

  “Heavy thoughts,” he replied, keeping his voice low. “Stand over there and let me take a photo.”

  Ashley complied, and he took several.

  “Isn’t this place amazing? The entire region of Matamata has benefited from Hobbiton. Jobs created for adults who normally need to leave the area to find work. The related fields of accommodation and food have prospered. We need more similar projects. Not necessarily related to a movie, but people thinking outside the box and looking to the future.” Enthusiasm bubbled from her, and she’d never looked so beautiful with the sun glinting on her golden hair, her brown eyes sparkling.

  His gaze wandered to her lips, his need to kiss her a fever in his veins. He took half a step toward her before his promise to Frog had him screeching to a halt. Too many lines crossed. If Frog discovered the truth, he’d thump Josh. Hell, Josh would deserve the beating.

  So instead of kissing Ashley as he wanted, he gave her a quick hug. She’d given him an idea. Somehow, he needed to find a project or service that played to his strengths. Tonight, while Ashley was busy with her reading and preparations for the following day, he’d do an honest assessment of his skills and see if he could come up with his Hobbiton.

  It was nine at night and dark by the time Nelson drove up her drive. A long day for all of them. Ashley covered her yawn with her hand and opened the car door.

  “No,” Josh snapped, reaching over to stay her with a hand. “The security light hasn’t come on.”

  Ashley froze. Stupid! She hadn’t even noticed. Nelson and Gerry had. Their swift exchange of glances and the tension in their muscular bodies told her that clearly. She mentally kicked herself for failing this hurdle. Matt’s lectures about staying aware of her surroundings had faded because of her fatigue. Epic fail.

  “I’ll go,” Nelson said.

  “I have a torch in the glove-box if that’s any help,” Ashley said.

  Gerry pulled out the torch and switched it on to test the batteries. “Good job.”

  His quiet praise stifled the inadequacies plaguing her mind.

  Nelson left the vehicle, and Ashley peered after him until she could no longer see the bob of the torchlight.

  “What’s the pr
oblem?” Ashley could think of dozens of reasons and none of them reassured her or relieved her of the angst preying on her mind.

  “Power cut,” Josh said.

  Ashley grimaced at the house belonging to her nearest neighbor. It was ablaze with light, probably because her neighbor’s teenage boys never turned off lights when they left a room. Her neighbor had complained and shook her head over her sons’ lack of awareness only two weeks ago when they’d chatted over their boundary fence.

  Nelson returned and climbed back into the car. “I can’t see anything out of place. The house is secure, and the alarm is still activated. It’s just the security lights that are off. It might be a fault.”

  Ashley caught Josh’s frown. The fear she’d corralled to manageable portions during their trip south swaggered back into prominence. Chill bumps prickled along Ashley’s arms and legs.

  “This isn’t a big deal,” she said, her voice small and lacking her usual confidence. Weak, because she didn’t honestly believe her assertion, not with the men’s protective reactions. “The house is secure. The alarm isn’t wailing. Those are both good things. Right?”

  “There is a package at the door,” Nelson said.

  “A package?” Ashley asked. “What sort of package?” Don’t say bomb. Don’t say a bomb. “D-did it tick?” This was New Zealand. A peaceful country of mainly law-abiding citizens. Of course, it didn’t tick. Reading thrillers—she’d stop that right away. Find a nice romance instead.

  “I didn’t pick it up,” Nelson said. “It’s a courier parcel.”

  “Something campaign-related,” Ashley decided aloud.

  “Are you expecting a delivery?” Josh asked.

  “No.” She frowned, worry gnawing at the oddity. “Most of the stuff goes to my office. I don’t publicize my residential address. I mean, it’s easy enough for someone to discover it. Wait, this is silly. We’re overthinking this situation.”

  “It’s not ridiculous if it keeps you alive,” Josh growled. “I’ll check out the parcel and turn off the alarm. We’ll relax once we can see with the lights. We can make a decision on what to do next then.”

  “All right,” Nelson said. “Shout if anything is weird. Do you want a torch?”

  “No. I’ll rely on my night vision.” Josh slid out of the vehicle, leaving a taut silence behind him.

  “Will he be all right?” she asked. His wound was still healing, and she’d hate him to get injured again. He—his safety and wellbeing mattered to her.

  “He’s a highly trained soldier,” Gerry said. “Try not to worry.”

  The tension within the vehicle remained, and Ashley clenched her hands together. She bit her inner cheek to contain her urge to scream. She’d never enjoyed horror movies and this… This was like living in the midst of one.

  Lights flicked on inside her house. Nelson’s phone buzzed.

  “It’s Josh,” Nelson said. “He says the package is a courier parcel. He says Robert sent it.”

  The tautness released from Ashley’s shoulders. “If it’s from Robert, it’ll be related to the campaign.”

  Gerry eased in front. “Let’s go. Ashley, I’ll lead. You walk behind me, and Nelson will guard your back.”

  Ashley opened her mouth to argue, then hesitated. They were the security experts, and she’d be an idiot if she second-guessed their every decision. No one could accuse her of idiocy.

  Five minutes later, they were inside the house, the door locked behind them.

  Josh was speaking to the friend who’d installed the security lights while she, Gerry, and Nelson observed the courier package. The size of a shoebox, it appeared innocuous enough.

  “Try to call Robert again,” Nelson said.

  Ashley put through the call. After ringing several times, it went through to voicemail. She left a message. “That’s unusual,” she said. “He always answers his calls, especially if they’re from me. What do we do? Do we open the parcel or not?”

  13 – The Date With Mr. Right

  Robert heard the firm knock on the office door and smiled, anticipation dancing through him. Dinner had arrived.

  With eager steps, he hurried to answer. A peek through the security peephole had his smile widening. He unlocked the door, beaming, and not even attempting to hide his emotions from the man who stood in the doorway. “Stephen. Hey!”

  His lover winked at him, a sunny smile in place. “Dinner is served. I fancied fish and chips tonight. Is that okay with you?” He stepped inside, his hands full of parcels wrapped in newspaper.

  “Perfect brain food,” Robert said, after closing the door. “Let’s eat now.” He led the way to a small room holding a table and six mismatched chairs. “I’m starving and could do with a break. I’ve been working on Ashley’s program for the run-up to the election. So many details to finesse. You should meet her. You’ll like her. Most people do.”

  “What I need is a kiss.” Stephen set down the parcels.

  Robert walked into his arms without hesitation, but a small part of him wondered at the smile that didn’t quite reach his lover’s pretty eyes. His man had a temper, although thankfully he didn’t lose it often. And the makeup sex—well, it was worth the harsh words and the bruises on his upper arms.

  Firm lips mastered his while strong muscles cradled his less conditioned ones. Every day he had to pinch himself at his luck in meeting Stephen. The man had an easy-going charm that had enticed Robert, seduced him during that first meeting while running in the park near his home.

  He’d thought Stephen wanted a fling and had been game enough, interested enough, dazzled enough to break his rules regarding one-night stands.

  Stephen had surprised him though, turning up at his home the following evening with a bunch of tulips. Robert’s favorite flower. The next week Stephen had moved in with him, giving up his cheap digs when Robert had argued he had room.

  “Hey,” Stephen said. “Where did you go? Are you falling for another guy and want me gone?”

  “Never.” Robert moved closer and squeezed Stephen’s brawny biceps. “If I’m falling for anyone, it’s for you. This has happened so fast between us.” He grinned. “A fairy tale.”

  Stephen leaned forward and stole a quick kiss. “Why don’t you sit and I’ll feed you? You’ve worked a long day. You must be tired.”

  “A little,” Robert conceded. “But it will be worth it come election day. At first, I didn’t think the Labor party had a chance, but with Ashley at the helm, things have changed for the better.”

  “Hey, no more talk of work. This is a break and a romantic dinner. Sit. Close your eyes and let your mind rest while I get things organized.”

  Robert reached for Stephen’s hand and squeezed. “You’re too good to me.” He closed his eyes, focusing on the small sounds Stephen made as he prepared. His phone rang in the outer office. His eyes flicked open. “I’d better get that. It might be important.”

  “Stay.” Stephen softened the command with a smile. “If it’s important, they’ll leave a message. You deserve a break to rest and eat your dinner.”

  Robert stared at the china plates Stephen had produced, the single candle. As Robert smiled, touched by the thoughtful gesture, Stephen produced a lighter and lit the candle. Oh, brilliant. Someone was going to get lucky tonight once they arrived home.

  The phone rang once more, but this time, Robert didn’t move a muscle. The Six Tenors sang in the background. Stephen had turned out the light, and the flickering candle offered the only illumination. Slowly, Robert relaxed, even though guilt cut through him when the phone rang yet again. This time, the caller left a message. He’d make the call his priority as soon as they ate dinner.

  Stephen produced a bottle of wine from his bag. Condensation beaded on the glass neck, and Robert saw it was another of his favorites.

  “You spoil me,” he murmured, his heart pulsing extra fast for a few beats. Not even during his ill-fated marriage had he experienced this—the caring. The simple things like curli
ng up against a lover throughout the night. Breakfast in bed. Dinner ready when he dragged himself through the door after a long day. And sex. Regular sex. He enjoyed that part too. “Not too big a glass. I promised to finish a report before I leave the office.”

  “I’ll drive us home,” Stephen said, his brown eyes serious. “You deserve time out to relax. If you want my opinion, you’re better to take time for yourself and recharge.” He scowled. “Your boss works you way too hard.”

  “Stephen.” Robert sighed because he’d explained this before. Several times. “When the election is done, my days will be much shorter. Normal days. Weekends. We’ll be able to take a vacation. How does lying out in the sun with a cocktail sound?”

  Stephen refused to meet Ashley. Reckoned he couldn’t be polite to her after seeing the social media posts. It was the only sore point in their relationship. He avoided the mistake of mentioning it because he hated to spoil this intimate moment.

  Stephen handed him a glass of wine. “Is it the one you prefer?”

  “It is.” Robert took a sip of the crisp, fruity Sauvignon blanc. “Perfect.”

  His lover served the fish and chips, produced slices of lemon, a bottle of vinegar, and a small dish of tartare sauce. Stephen’s insistence on taking care of details amused him, but in cases like this, the quirk truly worked.

  “Thank you,” Robert said when Stephen joined him at the rickety table. “I promise to return the favor one day soon.”

  “I’m not keeping score,” Stephen said. “I enjoy doing things for you.”

  The weird note in Stephen’s voice claimed Robert’s attention since the man was normally so controlled. Apart from in bed. As a lover, the intensity and focus to detail produced spectacular results.

  “The girl suggested the blue cod.” Stephen moaned around a mouthful of fish. “This is delicious. The batter is crisp while the fish is tender.”

  Watching the man eat and hearing his growls of appreciation pushed Robert’s buttons. With a trembling hand, he took a big sip of wine. It tasted different. He frowned before deciding the deep-fried food had probably coated his taste buds. He took another sip. Tasted fine.