Skye: an enemies-to-lovers, marriage of convenience, and fake relationship stand alone romance (Signature Sweethearts)

by Kelsie Rae

  Unlacing our fingers, he slides a giant diamond onto my finger, but I can’t stand to look at it. Once it’s in place, he intertwines our hands again. I think he can feel how much I need it right now.

  From the corner of my eye, I see the preacher turn his attention to me. “And do you, Skye Swenson, promise to….”

  I look up at Liam’s face. His gaze holds mine with so much intensity I’m surprised I don’t collapse from the weight of it. His plump lips are in a straight line, though a ghost of his dimple is somehow etched into his tan skin. He looks breathtaking, and any woman would be lucky to stand beside him as rings are exchanged. He could choose whoever he wanted, and they’d be groveling at his feet. Yet, here I am.

  Why am I here?

  Oh, because I stepped up to the plate. I want to cry at how pathetic the truth is. He didn’t even ask me to be his fake wife. Not really. I was just stupid enough to apply for the job, tying our futures together, whether he wanted me to or not. Sure, once the plan was in motion, he begged me to keep the ruse going, but not because he wanted me in particular. But because it was too late for him to back out. The thought is so damn depressing, I don’t even know what to do about it, and my eyes go glassy. I shove the defeated feelings aside.

  Not now, Skye. Now is so not the time for a breakdown.

  Liam’s hands squeeze mine, breaking me out of my reverie as his mouth tilts up in amusement. “Skye, I believe he asked you a question.”

  Crap!

  Clearing my throat, my neck swivels to the side, and I nod. “Yup. I do.”

  My hands continue to shake as I slide a simple band onto his ring finger, ignoring the way my chest tightens.

  A quiet laugh rolls throughout the audience before I hear the preacher say, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  With a surety I don’t expect, Liam cups each side of my face. His palms are warm as they tilt my head up. My mouth parts on its own like I’ve lost all control of my body as Liam slowly descends. I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting a real kiss. Maybe a peck or something, but nothing real. Because this isn’t real. None of this is. Then his lips connect with mine, and I nearly melt into a puddle. It’s not a firework. It’s a tsunami that has slowly built over the past month and is now crashing around me. As his tongue slides between my parted lips, I gasp and lean into him until my breasts are plastered against his chest, and my fingers are digging into the lapels of his jacket. All logic has flown out the window as I take full advantage of the kiss that has officially ruined me for all other kisses. The feel of his fingers digging into my hair send tingles racing down my spine. Bending me backward, he deepens the kiss until I’m positive I’ll never need to come up for air again because I’ll happily die with his taste on my lips. It’s mint. And heat. And everything a girl could ever dream of.

  I feel his lips stretch into a smile as the bubble he’s effectively blanketed me in pops. The sound of applause brings me back down to earth, and I take a shaky step back, giving us a bit of breathing room and time for me to grab hold of my sanity. Or what’s left of it, anyway.

  I can’t look at him, so I stare at the ground beneath my feet, convinced I’m still floating as cheering ensues. Grabbing my hand, he tugs me toward the exit. People start tossing rice into the air as my mind scrambles to piece together what the hell just happened thirty seconds ago, and why I can still feel it buzzing beneath my skin.

  Soon, I find myself in the open reception area with my husband beside me.

  Husband.

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Skye

  “Smile!” the photographer calls before snapping another billion pictures. Twinkling chandeliers are hung from the massive ceiling reminding me of Beauty and the Beast when Belle dresses up in a yellow dress, and they dance the night away. I force another tight smile and peek up at Liam.

  Yeah, I’m finding the moment a little eerie with how similar it is. Kind of an asshole pretending to be a prince. Something must be in the punch.

  “Mr. Davis, lean down and give her another kiss. The lighting is perfect for it!” the photographer orders.

  Stomach tightening, I wait with his arms around my waist and lift my chin to look into his green eyes. Not because I actually want him to kiss me. I’m just curious to see how he’s going to respond. I’d insisted that hiring a photographer was going overboard, but his father was adamant we have documentation of the blessed day.

  Liam scans my face for a split second before he almost imperceptibly shakes his head and releases his hold. Turning to the photographer, he says, “I think that’s enough for now. Thanks, Julie.”

  Sensing her dismissal, Julie starts snapping away in the opposite direction, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Thank goodness,” I mutter. “I thought we’d never be done posing. My cheeks hurt. Do your cheeks hurt?” I rub them with my fingers, causing Liam to chuckle under his breath.

  “Yeah. Although I gotta say, you’re rocking the fake smile thing. I can almost believe you’re enjoying yourself if I didn’t notice I’ve been posing with a statue all night.”

  Elbowing him in the ribs, he laughs even harder.

  “And then there’s you,” I quip. “You’ve been a champ the whole time. Should I be worried about how easy it is for you to fake this?”

  “Probably. Let me ask my stepmother if we can cut the cake then get the hell out of here.”

  Liam

  This night needs to end. There’s too much shit going on in both our heads. I can see it in her eyes, and I can feel it in my bones. And my crotch, but I’m not going there. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can stop faking this mess, and we can just get wasted and enjoy an all-expenses-paid trip across the world.

  I try to hide my annoyance when I see my stepmother flirting with one of the waiters. Taking a step toward her, a firm hand grabs my forearm.

  “Son, can we talk for a second?” a voice murmurs from my left.

  Bristling at the term son, I turn to my dad. He’s as put together as ever, sporting a tuxedo that fits him like it was custom-tailored and a fresh shave that shows off his strong jaw. Gotta give him credit for one thing; he passed off some good genes to his boys. If I wind up looking like him when I’m older, I’ll consider it a pretty good success.

  If only he’d taken better care of his shining personality.

  “What do you need?” I ask lazily.

  “I simply wanted to congratulate you. Is that a problem?”

  “Nope. Anything else?”

  That same strong jaw tightens until I’m positive he’s going to crack one of his molars.

  “Why do you have to be so difficult?” he seethes.

  “I’m not being difficult,” I argue with a cocky smirk that I know pisses him off. “I was just looking for your little wife. I wanted to see if she had any preference in regards to when we cut the cake.”

  “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t give a damn, and don’t call her my little wife. She’s your stepmother. Show her some respect, Liam. She deserves it for having to put up with you.” He takes a deep breath as if my presence is enough to send him into cardiac arrest. “Now, can you be mature for two seconds so I can congratulate you the way I’d like to?”

  “Didn’t you already do that?” I quip, shrugging out of his hold.

  Man, I’m immature sometimes. I know it. I hate it. But he just…brings it out of me.

  Heaven forbid you take responsibility for your actions, a voice inside of me chides, but I ignore it.

  “It’s funny,” my dad continues. “Skye says that you’ve matured. That you’re not the man I always assume you to be.” Pulse quickening, I clench my fists at my sides while praying that Skye didn’t blabber her mouth about anything that needs to be kept in the dark. “I want to believe her, son. I really do. And tonight, you definitely took a step toward proving it to me. You’re a lucky man, and I think you have the potential to
make her a lucky lady too.”

  There it is. The backhanded compliment. Although, I gotta give him credit. It was much more subtle this time. Hell, it was damn near believable. That he actually has my well-being in mind. That he actually thinks I could turn out to be something other than a screwup.

  Ha. Who am I kidding?

  “Thanks,” I mutter, shrugging it off before taking an opportunity to address the entire reason behind this messed up situation. “I’m just holding up my end of the bargain. Just like you want me to. Which reminds me…do you plan on holding up yours?”

  “In regards to what, exactly?” my dad asks with a straight face.

  I grit my teeth. “Don’t do this to me.”

  His mouth lifts in a ghost of a smile, shocking the hell out of me. “I’m joking, son. Yes. Your inheritance will be transferred in the next week or so. I have the papers with me right now.” Pulling out a thin stack of papers from his jacket pocket, he walks with me toward a secluded corner then hands me a pen that was also stashed away in his suit. “All we need is your signature. Then we can get everything finished while you’re on your honeymoon. I want you to know that I like Skye a lot. I approve of your choice, and I think she’s a good match for you.”

  My breath catches in my throat, my hand stalling for a split second before I press the tip of the pen against the crisp white paper. With a couple of flicks of my wrist, it’s over. The damn carrot that he’s been dangling for years is within my reach.

  All I had to do was lie to everyone I know to get it.

  And they say cheaters never prosper.

  Meanwhile…

  Skye

  He stalks away in search of his stepmother, leaving me alone with a moment to finally breathe, and I take full advantage of the solitude. The feelings swirling inside of me are conflicting, to say the least. I just…I just need to wrap my head around everything. That’s all. Get my perspective back where it belongs. I look around the venue I never would’ve chosen for myself then down at my lacy gown that is gorgeous but isn’t the perfect dress I have tucked away in my closet.

  See? This isn’t real. And neither was that kiss. It was so bad that Liam refused to do it a second time, even though the photographer suggested it just a second ago.

  Whatever is giving you those damn butterflies? It’s all in your head.

  I search out Liam in the giant room filled with family and friends when two familiar faces pop into view.

  “Finally! We’ve been trying to get you alone all night!” Sway says as she and Saylor corner me from both sides, dragging me to a more secluded spot.

  “Oh. Hey. Yeah. It’s been crazy. I had no idea.”

  “I’ll say so,” Saylor mutters. “So, what’s going on with you and Liam?”

  My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

  “That kiss? Skye, we’re just wanting to make sure you’re okay,” Saylor murmurs quietly, giving me a pointed stare.

  Excellent question.

  My hand raises to my mouth. I gently run my fingers along the seam of my lips as memories from our kiss assault me. Realizing what I’m doing, I drop it back to my side. “I’m fine. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “My ass, it wasn’t,” Sway curses, calling me out. “Are you okay? Like…for real? You’ve been looking dazed all night. Hell, you’ve been looking lost.”

  “I’m just tired and am figuring out my bearings, that’s all.”

  “You sure?” Saylor pushes, squeezing my hand.

  “Positive.”

  With a sigh, she pulls me in for a hug, and Sway joins in.

  “We love you, Skye. Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  “Am I interrupting something?” a deep voice rumbles. My sisters release me, and I look around to see Liam standing a couple of feet away.

  “Nope. We were just congratulating our baby sister. I can’t believe she beat me to walking down the aisle first!” Sway teases, making conversation. Anthony swaggers by, having overheard her, and pulls her into his arms.

  “Did I just hear you sound envious of someone having a plan for their future?” he prods with a knowing smile.

  Sway is not a planner. In fact, she’s avoided them like the plague since her plans to have children fell through when she found out she couldn’t have any.

  “Did I just make a not-so-subtle comment about wanting to get married, and you ignored it?” she returns sarcastically.

  “I didn’t ignore it. I just gotta make it spontaneous. Right, Swayze Girl?” He tightens his hold around her, and she rolls her eyes, but I can see the soft smile gracing her lips. She’s so deliriously happy that I kind of want to smack her for it. When she gets married, she’ll choose the perfect dress. She’ll choose the perfect venue. She’ll have the perfect husband. Not that Anthony’s perfect. But he’s perfect for her, and that’s all that matters.

  I peek over at Liam to see him staring at me. I’d give anything to read his mind right now. Is he regretting his decision to marry me? Is he regretting this ruse in the first place? When he notices I’ve caught him, he clears his throat and offers his hand.

  “It’s time to cut the cake. You ready?”

  Nodding, I place my hand in his, and he leads me to the white linen-covered table where an extravagant cake is waiting for us on a silver stand. The fondant is smooth and white, decorated with red roses that match the bridal party’s colors. They cascade down the three tiers of vanilla cake that Liam and I chose. I hate fondant. Despise it, actually. I also hate white cake and prefer chocolate. I’d chosen it to remind myself that my dream wedding will happen one day, and it won’t be anything like this. In fact, if I’m lucky, this day will be a distant memory, and it won’t taint the real deal when it finally happens.

  I refuse to let it.

  After cutting the cake, a small piece is placed on a china plate, and I’m told to feed it to Liam. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably shove it in his face and laugh my butt off as it smeared across his chiseled jaw. Hell, I’d probably lick it off afterward. If this was real, anyway. But it’s not. Right now, I feel numb and want nothing more than to disappear. The audience cheers around me, encouraging me to get this over with.

  Blinking a few times, I pick up the piece and offer it to Liam uncomfortably. Sensing my unease, he tilts his head and inspects his new wife. After a few long seconds, he grabs my wrist then wraps his mouth around my fingers, sucking the frosting off me with precision until not a smudge of icing is left. My heart pounds against my ribcage as I watch his lips nearly swallow me whole. Our family and friends laugh loudly at his little show of affection before applauding and cheering like we’re a special form of entertainment. Cheeks heating, I pull my hand away from him and reach for the nearest napkin, wiping my fingers. Unfortunately, it doesn’t erase the heat of his mouth or the swirl of his tongue.

  “My turn,” he murmurs, picking up a large bite-sized piece of cake. He wiggles it back and forth like he’s trying to sway a toddler into eating their veggies. It’s an attempt to make me smile, and it works like a charm. With a soft laugh, I open my mouth only for it to be shoved across my face. Eyes opening wide in shock, the cake is quickly followed by his mouth as he eats the mess off me.

  And I melt. The ache inside of me releases its hold for an instant, letting me breathe for the first time in what feels like forever. I soak up a moment of absolute insanity where I let myself dream of what it could be like to call Liam my husband. For real. Even if it’s only for a minute. Tangling my clean hands into his hair, I let him eat the cake off my skin and open my mouth when his tongue slides along the seam until all the flavors mingle into one addicting concoction.

  Chest heaving, he pulls away, and I see a bit of red frosting smeared on the side of his mouth. A giggle escapes me and is followed by the rest of the crowd laughing too as Julie snaps another few pictures. Brody has his eyes covered as if he’s just witnessed the most disgusting thing in the world, and I don’t blame him at all. With another laugh,
I reach for a few more napkins and hand them to Liam before cleaning myself up as well.

  The next thirty minutes are spent with congratulatory hugs and well-wishes. After, Liam places his hand on my lower back and escorts me to the limo as everyone waves us goodbye.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Liam

  What the hell was that?

  I rake my fingers through my hair and glance at Skye beside me. Her cheeks are tinged pink as her fingers graze the ring on her left hand, studying it carefully.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  Peeking over at me, she gives me a shy smile and stops her fidgeting. “I see you snuck into my room and retrieved the Tiffany box.”

  “I actually made Brody do it. Bribed him with some Twizzlers. Do you like it?”

  Her eyes drop down to her left hand before she raises it for further inspection. It’s a giant, square-cut diamond surrounded by smaller ones. Any girl would drool over a rock that size, but she doesn’t gush the way I’d expect a normal girl to. Instead, she murmurs, “It’s gorgeous, but you really shouldn’t have. I was fine with the ring we convinced your parents belonged to my grandma.”

  I know she was. But I wasn’t okay with it. I’ve seen the toll this arrangement has taken on her. And if I’m being honest, it’s taken a toll on me, as well. Distracting Skye by sucking the cake off her fingers was dumb as hell. I shouldn’t have crossed that line, but I’ve been craving her ever since our vows. And since I’m being honest, I can admit to myself that I’ve been craving her since long before that, but I refuse to confess that out loud.

  I watch as she studies the ring again before I murmur, “I wanted to give you something nice.”

  “Which was very kind of you,” she offers.

  “I’m sensing a but….”

  With a light laugh, she says, “But…I think a gift is more genuine when there’s thought behind it instead of simply buying whatever has the biggest price tag.”