World's Worst Boyfriend: A Romantic Comedy Adventure (Fake It Book 3)

by Carina Taylor

  “I am Fletcher.”

  “But how—why—”

  “Because I can’t remember to answer to a different name. It was safer for me to keep the same first name. Of course, we changed my last name and all my credentials for the job, but my name really is Fletcher.”

  “Then what’s your last name?”

  “Farley.”

  I snorted. “No, really. What is it?”

  He scowled. “My real last name is Farley.”

  “Fletcher Farley? Your initials are FF?”

  “That’s it,” he said as he grabbed my side and tickled me mercilessly.

  I shrieked and tried not to kick him—too hard, that is. “It’s a great last name! Perfect!”

  He stopped tickling me and stared in my eyes. “Could you ever be Saidy Farley?”

  “No,” I shook my head rapidly. “No way.”

  His face went blank.

  “When we get married, you’re going to have to take my last name…Perez sounds so much better. Fletcher Perez.” I grinned.

  “Come here, you,” he said as he tugged me closer to him. “I’ll just have to kiss you until you forget my last name.”

  “I can live with that,” I whispered against his lips.

  The scruff on his face scratched my cheeks as he angled to kiss me deeper. His tongue teased the corner of my mouth as I let him in. He was mine. Again. I don’t think I’d ever let him go. I knew he hadn’t let us go.

  When I pulled back to catch my breath, Fletcher had the same glazed look in his eyes that I was sure I had.

  “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?” I whispered.

  “If I have anything to say about it, we will be,” he promised as he tucked my head under his chin.

  We lay there long enough that I would have thought he was asleep, except for the steady hand tracing gentle circles on my back.

  “Why don’t you tell me about work? So much has been focused on me the last few days. I want to hear about you.” He planted a kiss against my cheek. “How has everything been going for you?”

  His strong arms held me close as I told him about all my current projects and how I’d managed to finish the new build, about relocating the heinous amount of leather out of the police chief’s house, and how I would be finished at The Barre studio by the end of the month. Fletcher listened as I rambled on about the little things I’d changed and adjusted to make an object unique. I told him about how I’d scheduled in two weeks of free time to spend finishing the furniture I had in my garage. We talked well into the night, and I didn’t even remember falling asleep until we woke up to the sound of a chime on Fletcher’s phone.

  The wrinkles from his shirt had left an imprint on my cheek.

  Fletcher groaned as he rolled over and read the text. “It’s West. Today’s the day.”

  I wrapped my arms around him tightly. It felt like the middle of the night still. “I don’t want you to go back there. Please. I can’t handle anything happening to you.”

  He stood up from the bed, dragging me with him since I was attached like a leech.

  He laughed and pulled me to my feet. “You know I love you, right?”

  “Yes.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I love you too.”

  “I know.” With a smile he bent down and kissed me softly. “But this is my job. I’m going to finish this, and then we can spend more time together.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you. You promise you’ll be careful?”

  He kissed me again, whispering his promise that he would be.

  After glancing at his phone, he dragged me back to bed. “We still have a few hours.”

  We woke up snuggled close together. His hip was still sore no matter what he said, and I’d used a pile of pillows to help prop him up, keeping the pressure off of his side as much as possible.

  I’d fallen asleep to him playing with my hair. We were still bridging the chasm between us, but I knew we could work through it. And own up to the fact that I had caused part of that rift myself.

  Fletcher’s phone rang at seven o’clock. It was Sullivan demanding that he be at his house to review everything in the next forty-five minutes. That meant there wouldn’t be time for Fletcher to run home and put on any fresh clothes.

  I happened to have something for him. “Here. Wear these.” I handed him a t-shirt and jeans.

  “Hey, these are my clothes. I thought you cut up all my clothes.”

  My cheeks felt a little warm. “Yeah, well apparently, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of everything. I still can’t believe I cut up your things.”

  “They were pretty gross…I’ve had to do some surveillance in some pretty dirty places for this job. The warehouse is surrounded by woods and has a creek running around part of the parameter. I can’t even count the number of times I got soaked and muddy doing recon.”

  “I’m pretty sure I could,” I muttered under my breath, thinking of the piles of dirty laundry I’d done for him.

  He peeled his old shirt off and put the new one on. “Saidy, there’s something you should know. Even though a lot of our issues are because of my work, I’m not exactly good relationship material. You might be disappointed to find out that some of those flaws are part of me, not just a byproduct of my working undercover. I’m not a good gift giver. I forget important dates. I don’t know how to be romantic.”

  “I think you’re being too hard on yourself,” I admonished. “Do you remember the time you gave me socks for my birthday?”

  Fletcher groaned. “See? I thought those were a great gift. I can’t believe you let me get away with that.”

  “I was so upset that you only got me socks. But then the next day I ended up sick in bed with the flu.”

  He grimaced. “You were so sick.”

  I nodded, tracing my fingers over the planes of his chest. “Do you know what I remember about that night?”

  “What a jackass I was for getting you socks?”

  “I remember thinking how ungrateful I’d been. I’d been so focused on you not meeting my expectations for a present, that I forgot what a good guy you are. You came over the minute you could get away from work. You carried me to the bathroom every time I needed to be sick. You made me tea. Mopped the sweat off my forehead and changed my sheets. You held me while I shivered. What I remember from that night was the sweetest, most selfless boyfriend anyone could imagine. You weren’t even concerned about catching it yourself.”

  He sighed and ran his fingers through my hair. “I love you, Saidy.”

  “From now on I’m going to work harder at loving you the way you need too. Gifts are my thing, not yours,” I said with a smile. “You’re a protector. You show your love by taking care of me.”

  “I know I suck at showing how much you mean to me in normal ways, but I would do anything to protect you. Anything.”

  “Well, you did do anything. And while it annoys me to share you with other people, I know you’re the best type of man out there, and that’s something I can’t let go of.” I leaned forward on my tip toes and kissed the corner of his mouth. His hands wandered down to my hips, pulling me closer to his.

  “You might have to share me with the job, but like I said, there will be no more secrets between us. No more undercover work. After this it’s over. You’ll be stuck with a regular guy who doesn’t lie about what he does for a living.”

  “Good. Because I don’t think I can handle you sneaking around my house randomly showing up fixing things. I’d rather be able to just call and nag you to come fix my leaky faucet.” I pressed a kiss against his jaw. “Please be safe today. I’m already worrying too much.”

  “I promise I’ll be safe.” He pulled me close. “But don’t expect to hear from me for a while. Maybe not until late tonight. I can’t risk blowing everything this close. You did a great job of putting Sullivan at ease. He’s been back on the phone a bunch, which means he’s still taking bids and finalizing the meeting for tonight. I’ve heard se
veral of his conversations.”

  I sighed. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to worry about you. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  “Thanks, baby,” he said before he planted a quick kiss on my lips. “Now I’ve got to scoot out of here.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Fletcher

  The time had come. I flipped open the laptop and prepared the accounts to send and receive the money.

  My stomach churned. The big warehouse was bathed in a fluorescent glow as Sullivan concluded his auction.

  The people who’d appeared were even higher profile than I’d imagined. There was a CEO of a nationwide company. A state representative. A senator. A tech company oligarch. And someone I was fairly certain was high up in the local mafia. There was even a woman from Italy, but I wasn’t sure we’d be able to hold her due to her being a diplomat.

  “Is it ready to go?” Sullivan asked me quietly.

  “Yes.” I hit enter and watched as the money disappeared before my sight.

  “So, this is the end, isn’t it?” Sullivan asked softly.

  I glanced up sharply, surprised to find him not looking elated to now be in the possession of millions and millions of dollars. Instead, he looked sad. Pensive. He slowly turned and stared around the warehouse, as though he were taking it in for the first time. “I’ve had some good times in this building.”

  I nodded because I didn’t know what else to say. I couldn’t make my move yet, SWAT were supposed to be coming in at any minute now. I’d hit the pager hidden inside my pant leg the minute the money transferred.

  A fire alarm sounded loudly. I recognized the piercingly shrill sound as it echoed throughout the building. A building that I knew didn’t have a fire alarm system in it. It would be a little awkward trying to explain a warehouse full of stolen goods to the fire department.

  I glanced around, wondering if SWAT was using it as a distraction technique. No doors were breeched yet.

  I closed the laptop and watched as the entire group hurried toward the main door closest to them. Just as the first man reached the handle, the door flew open, slamming into him. The SWAT team filed in, quickly surrounding the group. I received a few nods as I stood back and let them do their job. They’d been briefed that I was their inside guy. Made it a lot less messy in a sting like this.

  There was something satisfying about watching a plan come together. As everyone calmed down—or at least quieted down, I pulled out my phone and shot off a quick text to Saidy.

  We did it.

  After pocketing my phone, I watched as suspects were cuffed, read their rights and shuffled around.

  But something wasn’t right. I scanned the small crowd.

  Sullivan.

  He wasn’t there.

  He’d slipped away.

  He must have been the one who’d rigged the distraction. I turned around and sprinted to the back of the warehouse and out through a small office that had a door leading outside.

  No one was there. Why hadn’t SWAT been waiting outside of both doors?

  I pulled out my phone and called West as I hurried across the back of the property to where I’d parked my van next to Sullivan’s car.

  “Why am I not seeing you walk out of the warehouse wearing some new bracelets?” West’s wry voice hit my ear.

  “Sullivan got out the back.”

  He cursed loudly on the other end.

  “I’m going to the house. He’ll be grabbing whatever he can.” I wrenched open the door to my car and climbed in. I started it and immediately put it into drive. “He’s probably long gone by now. You get everyone searching.”

  I hung up and screeched around the corner onto the street that led to Sullivan’s house. I was driving like Saidy’s mom, only with less honking.

  It felt like hours later that I reached his house, but in reality, it was only six minutes.

  I left the car running as I climbed over the cement wall and sprinted to the house. Flinging the door open, I flew down the hall and skipped the main office, instead heading straight for the library with a door into a sunroom. Sullivan would never stash his papers in a room with only one exit. And after this bust he had to be planning to flee the country.

  I slipped my hand into the back of my jeans and pulled out my 9mm.

  I rested my hand against the slightly ajar door, and pushed it open slowly.

  “Before you blast me to kingdom come, at least let me finish this whiskey,” a dry tone greeted me the same time my eyes landed on Sullivan. He sat in a highbacked chair. A satchel at his feet, a whiskey in his hand. Other than that, he appeared harmless. His hands were in the open with no weapon in sight.

  “Better tell your friends you were the one who got me. If you want that promotion to detective, that is.” He drained his cup, then pointed at the decanter on the table next to him, indicating that he was going to refill.

  “You knew,” I observed. His demeanor today. His reserved tone. He hadn’t been obsessively checking security the way he had been at the beginning of the week. He’d known it was a trap and still went through with it anyway.

  He nodded as he refilled his cup. To the top. “I finally put it together. A little too late, don’t you think?”

  I scanned the room as I stepped inside, making sure none of his bodyguards were there with him. “When did you figure it out?”

  Sullivan ignored my question and swiped a hand through his hair. “You were good. You had me fooled. Your girlfriend had me convinced you were who you said you were.”

  I listened for the sound of approaching sirens. Still nothing.

  “I had her followed you know,” he said as he drained the cup again. A talkative fellow after a few cups of whiskey.

  “I’d figured you did,” I ground out.

  “She played her part beautifully.” He gave a chef’s kiss. “And then when I discovered the truth—that you were a dirty cop—”

  “I think that means I’m not a dirty cop,” I muttered, leaning a shoulder against the wall where I could keep an eye on all windows and both doors.

  “—I realized that she didn’t know. You didn’t tell her what your real job was. She’s a horrible liar. It doesn’t come naturally to her like it does to me.”

  “Thank heavens for that.”

  “Which brings me to another point. The night at the bar when your girlfriend and her friend showed up. That was when I began to suspect. You had another man on the inside. And then there was the warehouse, and shots fired, that baseball cap on the ground, the extra security cameras you installed but I realized they were off count for the number of feeds I had.”

  He was full on rambling now…

  “And I had to know. I went to your girlfriend’s house that night. I knew then.”

  “But you stayed.”

  He shook his head. “I hadn’t planned on staying. Not really. I’d packed my go bag, made arrangements for a pickup, and even paid Esme enough to hopefully take care of her immigration issues. Gah, I’m going to miss that woman.”

  Was that moisture in his eyes? I’d never seen Sullivan undone like this. But I supposed when you were facing a future in prison it was all right to feel a little emotional.

  “When Saidy showed up, I knew she was there to protect you. You must have finally told her. How mad was she?”

  I debated about how to answer but figured silence was best at the moment. He seemed completely capable of carrying on the conversation by himself.

  He ran a finger around the rim of his glass and sighed. “I’ve always loved this room. Always made me feel like I’d stepped back in time. That nothing could touch me here. I thought it would be a fitting place to end this charade.”

  “You’re not running, and you’re not fighting?” I asked as I hit my pager again. West would know I’d found him here.

  “No. There’s always more than two options, as someone recently reminded me,” he said with a strange little smile.

  “Will you cooperate?”


  “For now.” He pointed to me. “Call them in. We’d better get this over with before I change my mind.”

  I pulled my personal phone from my pocket, planning on calling the chief.

  West called to me from the end of the hall. I slipped my phone back into my pocket. “Down here!” I called.

  He burst into the room and looked between the two of us in surprise. “Fletcher. You continue to surprise me,” West said.

  He slipped a pair of cuffs from his waistband. Tonight he was dressed like a cop. Which came in handy because it meant he didn’t have to hide everything under his pants or shirt.

  “Backup’s on the way. They are finishing up in the warehouse,” he said as he stepped farther into the room.

  Sullivan still looked unhurried.

  My phone began to ring. With West there, I felt comfortable pulling it out and looking at it. It was Saidy calling. I silenced the call—now was not a good time to talk. I’d unfortunately spoken too soon when I texted her. She was probably dying to hear what had happened. I glanced at the text on the screen.

  Saidy: Are you okay?

  It was a text she’d sent thirty minutes ago.

  The phone chimed loudly again. I hit the silent button. I might be earning that trophy after all, but I couldn’t risk any distractions at the moment.

  I slipped it in my pocket.

  “Somewhere you need to be?” Sullivan asked with an eyeroll.

  “Shut up and let’s get this over with,” I said as I walked across the room with West.

  Sullivan stood and turned around and offered us his hands behind his back. West did the honors.

  My phone chimed again. I ignored it as West finished cuffing Sullivan. “I’ll head out front and open the gates,” West announced.

  He left the room, leaving Sullivan staring out the window.

  Keeping a close eye on him, I stepped back and unlocked my phone to read the messages.