[Anthology] A Clean Fake Marriage Romance Collection

by Victorine E. Lieske

  He sighed. “If you don’t want to go, I’ll take you home. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now, it’s just that—”

  “Adam. It’s okay.” She laid her hand on his arm, which was a bad decision. Touching his muscular forearm sent tingles through her, but she didn’t want to withdraw it. “I can handle it.”

  A contemplative look came over him, and he studied her, silently.

  Megan gave him an encouraging smile. “Tell me about your father.”

  “He’s had a hard life.”

  Not wanting to interrupt, she waited for him to continue.

  “My mother left when I was just a baby. He had to raise me by himself. And he had no family. No support system. We didn’t have much. In fact, when things got tough, we didn’t have anything.”

  The hum of the engine filled the silence for a moment before he spoke again, his voice low. “We lived in a homeless shelter for a while.”

  Adam? Homeless? She couldn’t picture it. The man she knew didn’t fit that image. “What happened?”

  “It became obvious to the State that my father had mental illness. They took him away and put me in foster care.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  An array of emotions flashed across his face. “It was difficult. I was never the popular kid in school. In fact, I worked hard and graduated early so I could get away from it. And as soon as I got a job and could afford it, I went out on my own.”

  What he was telling her couldn’t be true. She’d always pictured him as the privileged child. Popular football-playing kid. The kind with a girl on each arm and scholarships to expensive schools. “What about college?”

  He laughed without mirth. “I never went to college. There was never any money for it. I’ve had to work my way up the ladder to get where I am.”

  Megan stared down at her hands, ashamed at herself for jumping to conclusions about him.

  “My father’s a nice man. A little delusional, but harmless. Don’t be afraid of him.”

  She nodded. “I’m looking forward to meeting him. What’s his name?”

  “Alexander, but everyone calls him Al.”

  ADAM PUT HIS ARM AROUND Megan. This was it. Time to introduce her. His gut did a somersault. “Dad, I’d like you to meet my co-host on the morning show. Megan, this is Al.”

  His father grinned, gaps showing from his missing teeth. His hair had thinned quite a bit over the years and was now snowy white with a round bald spot on top, matching his round middle. He padded over to them in his slippers. “My dear.” He took her hand, looking up, as he was a little shorter than she. “You are lovelier than sunlight.”

  Megan blushed. “Thank you, Mr. Warner.”

  “What’s with this Mr. Warner stuff?” He turned and started back to his seat at the round cafeteria table. “You can call me God.”

  Megan’s eyes grew wide, and she shot Adam a worried glance.

  “Dad—”

  “Just kidding.” His smile grew. “It’s my favorite joke. Gets ‘em every time.” He motioned to the chairs surrounding the table. “Have a seat.”

  Bright colored cutouts of eggs and bunnies decorated the common area. A few baskets with plastic grass and pastel bows sat on tabletops and counters. His father seemed fairly lucid today, and Adam exhaled. Maybe things would go all right. “How’ve you been, Dad?”

  “Just fine.” He rubbed the top of his head. “They treat me good here.” His eyes shifted around the room. “Except for Harry.”

  “Yeah, I know you don’t like Harry. But you’re trying to get along, right?”

  Al nodded, then patted Megan’s hand. “And how are you, sweetie?”

  She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m doing fine.”

  They chatted politely for a few minutes. Other patients and family members shuffled into the room, finding seats and getting ready for lunch. The tile floor and antiseptic smell always reminded him of a hospital.

  His father cocked his head to the side and studied Megan. Then he turned to Adam. “When’s the wedding?”

  Megan blushed and stammered. “I...uh, we...aren’t getting married.”

  White hair bobbed as his father nodded vigorously. “Yes you are.” He stared at Megan. “You’re his soul mate.”

  Heat crept up his neck. “Dad, stop. You’re embarrassing her.”

  “Sorry.” A demure look crossed his face. “Looks like they’re serving the ham now.”

  They ate without further incident, his father going on about how good the potatoes were, and Megan asking questions about the facility. Adam watched the two of them interact, the way Megan smiled and treated his father like a real person. She didn’t talk down to him, like a child, or shout at him like he was deaf.

  When it was time to leave, his father pulled Megan aside and whispered something in her ear. She blushed and gave him a hug. On the way to the car, he asked her what that was about.

  “Your father seems to be stuck on the idea that we’re getting married. He wanted to be sure he was invited.”

  Adam shook his head. “Sorry about that.”

  “No, don’t be.” She tucked another curl of blonde hair behind her ear. “Your father just wants what’s best for you. I’m flattered he thinks I could make you happy.”

  He stopped and took her hand. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  The look on her face told him she wasn’t expecting that at all. In fact, she didn’t look too happy he said it.

  He back-tracked, and let go of her hand. “I mean, you were really good with him. You treated him like a human being. He doesn’t get that a lot.”

  The concern left her face. “He’s special. I’m glad you introduced me.”

  He sighed inwardly, glad he’d gotten past that blunder. “I wish I could afford to move him closer to me. There are better facilities in Omaha. Not so sterile. They make the living quarters look much more homey. They’re just too expensive.”

  Megan threw him a sympathetic look. “How much do they cost?”

  “Some of them are $4,000 a month.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Wow.”

  He hadn’t meant to bring the conversation down. In order to lighten the mood, he smiled. “You ready to go color eggs?”

  Chapter 12

  Megan awoke on Monday with her head pounding like she’d fallen asleep on a jack hammer. Her throat screamed in agony with every breath. Moaning, she crawled out of bed and grabbed her robe. This was not a good start to her day.

  Maybe if she got going, she’d feel better. She didn’t want to call in sick. Leon would pitch a fit. And who knew what would go on over there without her. She could only imagine.

  She showered. The hot water did nothing for her chills. By the time she’d toweled off, she knew she couldn’t go into work. Hot and cold flashes assaulted her as she picked up the phone.

  Leon didn’t sound too thrilled, but she didn’t care anymore. She hung up and crawled back into bed, grateful for the warmth of the blankets. With the covers up to her chin, she slipped into blessed unconsciousness.

  She awoke several times, her blistering headache making the room spin. Once, she slipped from bed to get a glass of water, only to find herself waking up on the kitchen floor, her cheek pressed to the cool tile. She must have managed to get herself back into bed, because the next time she awoke she was kicking off the comforter, and her pillow was a sweaty mess beneath her head.

  Strange dreams filled her mind, one where her cell phone kept ringing, even after she answered it. No matter how many times she touched the screen, it wouldn’t shut up. Finally, in desperation, she threw it on the floor and stomped on it. The tiny broken pieces still vibrated and continued to chime incessantly.

  The next time she woke, the clock display read three fifteen in the afternoon, and her chest was on fire. She coughed, a deep hacking sound, which continued until she passed out again.

  She had another annoying dream, only this time her door buzzer wouldn’t stop. She t
ried to press the button on the wall, but kept missing. Finally she was successful, and the buzzing ended, replaced by loud knocking. The doorknob wouldn’t turn for her. She yelled for whoever it was to go away, but the knocking continued.

  Then her dream changed and Adam held her in his strong arms. He smelled clean and musky, and she buried her head in his chest.

  “You’re burning up.” He stared down at her, concern showing in his beautiful eyes.

  She reached up and touched his face. Stubble scratched at her palm, and his cool skin sent sparks through her fingertips. “You’re sexy,” she mumbled.

  “We need to get you to a doctor.”

  She shook her head, which was a bad idea. The pressure cooker behind her eyes threatened to blow. “No doctor.”

  Then her dream changed again, and she found herself lying on her bed, a cool cloth on her forehead. Adam held a glass of water to her lips. “Here, take a sip.”

  The cold water washed over her blistering throat, and she moaned.

  He kissed her forehead, then jerked back. “Megan, you’re really sick. You need to see a doctor.” He frowned.

  She grew annoyed. “Stop talking about doctors. You’re my dream, and you’ll do what I want.”

  He raised an eyebrow, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “And what’s that?”

  She pulled the covers up and tucked them under her arms. “Be nice. The real Adam’s a jerk.”

  He must not have liked that answer, because his frown came back.

  Her vision blurred, and she blinked to try to see him more clearly. “But he’s a good kisser.”

  She yawned, amazed that she could feel sleepy in a dream. She closed her eyes, and the world went dark. A few more times she dreamed of Adam. Once they were at a beautiful ball dressed in formal clothing. He held her close, her head against his chest. It was nice. She told him how good he smelled, and he chuckled. They talked for a while, but that part of the dream was fuzzy.

  Then she fell into a long, dreamless unconsciousness. When the fog lifted, she opened her eyes and peered at the clock. Eleven-thirty. Light filtered through her curtains, so she knew it must be the next day. She’d missed work again. Oh, well. Leon would simply have to deal with it. Adam was fine hosting the show by himself anyway.

  She had started to slip out of bed when she noticed a pair of cowboy boots on her floor. Fear crept up her spine. She didn’t own cowboy boots. She turned and held in a scream. Adam lay asleep, sprawled out on a kitchen chair beside her bed, his head at an unnatural angle. He wore a white T-shirt and jeans.

  She grabbed her blanket, covering up her filmy gown. “Adam!”

  He awoke with a start, glancing wildly around the room until his gaze settled on her. “Oh. You’re awake.”

  “What are you doing here?” she screeched.

  He held up his hands. “Whoa, hey, you let me in.”

  “I did no such thing! Get out!” Yelling probably wasn’t the best idea, because it made her cough, which sounded horrible even to her ears.

  “Settle down.” He stood and backed toward the door. “You’re sick.”

  She stared at him, realization dawning. “That was you knocking on the door.”

  “Yes. You wouldn’t answer your phone. I got worried.”

  “So you broke into my apartment?”

  Shaking his head, he protested. “No. Like I said, you let me in. I mean, not right away. It did take you a while to get to the door, but you finally opened it. And I’m glad you did. You were not well.”

  She stared up at him, trying to figure him out. Was her dream real? Was he nursing her? She glanced at the nightstand. A fresh glass of ice water sat on a coaster. A wet cloth lay beside it.

  Heat crept up her neck. “How long have you been here?”

  He looked at his watch. “A few hours. I came back after the show this morning.”

  “Came back? You were here before?”

  A blush touched his cheeks. “I’ve been here since yesterday.”

  “You spent the night here?” She clutched the covers tighter.

  “You wouldn’t let me take you to a doctor. And you had a high fever. I needed to give you some ibuprofen, and watch you, to make sure you didn’t have a seizure or something. And if you weren’t better today, I was taking you in, no matter what you said.”

  Images from her dreams flashed in her mind, and she could no longer look him in the eye. “Um...I must have been out of it.”

  He rocked back on his heels. “Yeah.”

  A horrible feeling settled over her. She didn’t want to ask, but needed to know. “What did I say?”

  His lip twitched. “Plenty.”

  “Well, I wasn’t myself. I had a fever. You can’t take any of that seriously.”

  He folded his arms across his broad chest. “Uh, huh.”

  “I mean, I was delusional.”

  He nodded, a grin forming, those blasted dimples showing. “Oh, and your sister called.”

  “You answered my phone?”

  He shrugged. “Wendy says, ‘Get better soon.’”

  Heat singed her face. Great. Wendy would probably jump to the wrong conclusions. She raked her hand through her hair, and it stuck in a tangle, reminding her that she probably resembled the bride of Frankenstein. Heaven only knew what she smelled like. “I need to shower.”

  “Oh, yes. Well, uh,” he stammered. “I’ll go in the other room.” He backed up a step. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you some eggs or something?”

  She couldn’t hide a smile. He was cute when he was uncomfortable. “Sure.”

  She took an extra-long time in the shower, scrubbing off the buildup of sweat from her fevered state. She even shaved her legs, although she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like she was planning on wearing a dress. But the thought of Adam carrying her, her orangutan-legs sticking out from her nightgown, gave her the motivation.

  Just getting clean made her feel so much better, although she was very weak. She put on a pair of sweats and a loose-fitting top. As she dressed, thoughts of Adam bombarded her. Why did it make her feel safe, knowing that he was there taking care of her? She didn’t need anyone doting on her, she was a grown woman. But she couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the way he’d kissed her on the forehead.

  When she left the bathroom, the smell from the kitchen made her mouth water. Adam stood at the stove, a frying pan in one hand, a spatula in the other. “Feel better?”

  “Yes. Much.” She sat at the table, where a glass of milk awaited her.

  He scooped the eggs onto a plate and added a piece of toast, jam spread over the top. “I hope your stomach’s better. You haven’t eaten anything since I got here.”

  She picked up the glass and swallowed the cold liquid. “Mmm, nice.” He handed her a fork, and she scooped up her first fluffy bite. “Heaven.”

  A sultry grin crossed his face. He flipped a chair around and sat straddling it, his arms across the back. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you up and around, and not talking nonsense.” His boots were back on.

  She grimaced, and he chuckled silently. As she ate, she stole a few glances at him. She really did appreciate him coming over, helping her like he had. It wasn’t something anyone else had ever done for her. Growing up, she’d fended for herself, in sickness and in health.

  The food was gone in a matter of minutes, and her energy drained. He took her plate. “Go lie down. You need to rest. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

  She protested, but he put a finger to her lips. “Please.”

  How could she argue with that? She nodded and pushed herself up. The room swayed, and Adam rushed to her side, helping her down the hall. When she slid under the covers, she gasped. “You changed my sheets?”

  “Hush. You need a nap.” He gently guided her shoulders back until she lay on the cool pillows.

  Her eyelids drooped, and she found it hard to speak. “Mmkay.” She snuggled down into the bed, relishing the feel of the cle
an sheets on her skin. Adam was amazing. She might be in love. Wait. Did she say that out loud?

  The last thing she heard was Adam’s chuckle as she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 13

  Megan continued to improve, although her cough lingered for a while. The next time she saw Adam, she tried to thank him for his kindness, only to have him wave it off. He seemed embarrassed she was calling attention to his good deed.

  As she entered the station that Friday morning, her body tingled with anticipation. She tried to ignore it, but she had to admit, she was excited to see Adam. She walked down the hallway toward Leon’s office, stopping when she heard tense voices.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Adam’s voice boomed.

  “Chill, man. It’s fine. I got this.” Leon. What was that weasel up to now?

  “You’d better. Because you know what will happen if...” His words were left hanging in the air.

  “Don’t worry.”

  Adam stormed out, almost running into her. His eyes widened. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were there.”

  “What was that about?”

  He avoided her gaze. “Nothing.”

  “Didn’t sound like nothing.” She narrowed her eyes. What was he hiding? And just when she was beginning to trust him.

  “Sorry.” He shifted his weight. “Leon and I don’t always see eye to eye. But he’s the boss, ya know?” His eyes pleaded with her. “I don’t always have a choice.”

  She studied him. Sweat formed on his forehead. She grabbed his arm. “What’s he making you do?”

  “Nothing.” He pulled her down the hallway, away from Leon’s office. “Just...no matter what happens, I’m on your side. Okay?”

  What did that mean? And why did it sound so ominous? She nodded, unsure of what to think. Maybe he did want to tell her, and Leon was forcing his hand. Maybe this was all Leon’s fault.

  He glanced at his watch. “We’d better get on set. The show starts in a few minutes.”

  As Megan pinned her microphone on, she caught a glimpse of a woman off set wearing a beige business suit. Her heart caught in her throat. Doctor Lemon. Or whoever she really was.