Best Fake Fiancé: A Loveless Brothers Novel

by Noir, Roxie

  “Third, free beer for life from Loveless Brewing.”

  “For life?”

  Charlie just nods very seriously. I narrow my eyes, like I’m thinking about negotiating.

  In reality, I don’t remember the last time she paid for a beer from my brewery. This pretty much just formalizes the arrangement.

  “Ten years,” I say.

  She presses her lips together, thinking, and I don’t notice the way it gives her a slight, soft, supple pout, nor do I think again about the fact that we’re going to have to kiss.

  My stomach does a little flip.

  “All right,” she says, shrugging, and flips over a page. “Meatballs upon request from your brother Eli.”

  “I can’t guarantee that,” I protest. “You know I have zero say in what Eli does.”

  “Didn’t you talk him into infiltrating his own place of work to get a security video last year?” she asks, tilting her head to one side.

  “I didn’t talk him into that,” I say.

  “You just suggested it and he did it?”

  “I didn’t even suggest it!” I say. “I just… gave him advice when Violet was pissed at him.”

  She’s looking at me with those eyes, tapping her fingers on the side of her coffee cup. We lock eyes for a long moment.

  “Fine,” I finally say. “Meatballs.”

  “I want Seth to do my taxes.”

  Seth’s my next-youngest brother. We co-own Loveless Brewing; I do the beer parts, he does the business parts.

  “How many more of these demands do you have?” I ask.

  “Two after this one,” she says.

  I take a deep breath, drink some more coffee.

  “All I can do is ask,” I point out. “You do know my brothers are separate entities from me, right? We’re not all branches of the same massive organism, like an aspen stand or something.”

  She gives me a puzzled look.

  “Aspen trees are actually all shoots of one massive root system,” I explain. “There’s one in Colorado named Pando that’s the world’s heaviest living organism. Levi got real excited about it once.”

  My eldest brother is the chief arborist of the Cumberland National Forest. The man knows a lot about trees.

  “Yes, I know you’re not an aspen,” she says. “But I bet you’ve got some influence with them, my taxes are going to be hell once my LLC is formed, and I know Seth does the brewery’s.”

  “Fine,” I say. “What are the last two?”

  “A backpacking trip with Caleb to the best secret spot he knows in the Blue Ridge,” she says, and I’m already frowning before she finishes the sentence.

  “You want to go backpacking with my little brother?” I ask, already imagining the two of them, alone together on the trail for a few days. Laughing over a campfire. Sharing one of those tiny backpacking tents, sleeping inches away from each other.

  Caleb’s the youngest, currently getting his Ph.D. in Mathematics, and when he’s not in school he’s usually hiking some very long trail. He did the Appalachian Trail while he was in college, and he finished the Pacific Crest Trail last summer.

  At least it’s not Seth, I tell myself. Caleb knows how to keep his hands to himself. I think.

  I still don’t like it. I don’t care that this engagement is fake. I don’t like it one bit, and I frown into my coffee.

  “You can come if you want,” she says, shrugging.

  “I will,” I mutter. “What’s the last one?”

  Charlie takes a deep breath, holding the envelope in her hands, and my heart does a little hop inside my chest.

  She wants to practice kissing, I think, feeling the blood rise to my face. She thinks that I should start sleeping over sometimes, in the same bed, to make it more believable—

  “Our fake breakup has to be mutual and amicable,” she says, still not meeting my eyes. “However we decide to end it, it has to be the nicest, most civil breakup in the history of Sprucevale. You can’t tell people I cheated on you or something, I can’t claim that you stole my credit card and bought ten thousand bouncy balls, you can’t run down Main Street posting flyers of my face that say ‘this woman is a jerk,’ et cetera.”

  I pause, mid-sip. I hadn’t thought about this part. To be honest, I hadn’t gotten much further than we’re going to have to kiss, but there’s a pang, somewhere deep down inside, at the thought of having to break up with Charlie.

  Even though it’s fake. I’m not saying it makes sense. Just that it’s happening.

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” she says. “I just think we should figure out how we’re going to end things now, before we actually have to do it. That’ll make it more believable, if we can start planting the seeds of our eventual breakup now instead of suddenly going, ‘He puts mayonnaise on french fries, we can never marry’ in two months.”

  “You would dump me over mayo on fries?” I ask, trying to sound light, even though my heart is still thumping unpleasantly in my chest.

  “You’re a red-blooded American,” she says, taking a long swig from her cup, her eyes glimmering with a smile. “Use ketchup and don’t get ideas above your station.”

  I just laugh.

  “I forgot we’d have to break up,” I admit.

  “We can’t actually get married,” she says. “I mean, obviously. This is not— I mean, we’re not— you know—”

  Suddenly she’s flustered, the light gold skin under her freckles pinkening.

  “We’re just us,” she says. “We’re not really a thing, no matter what everyone in town seems to think.”

  I glance down at my nearly-empty coffee, and there’s a flicker — just a flicker — of years ago, the two of us sitting on the hood of my car, beers in hand, my arm around her as she laughs, her curls brushing against my cheek, we’re so close.

  I shake it away and drink. The past is past.

  “We’ll have the world’s most amicable break up,” I agree. “It’ll be so fucking civil that the United Nations will ask us to lead a seminar.”

  “In front of everyone,” she says. “All the gossips. I only want to do it once, Daniel.”

  There’s something in her voice, her look, and I think for a second about Charlie saying I don’t love you enough to make this work a few months from now and despite everything, despite the fact that we’re sitting here talking about our fake engagement, it hurts.

  “Me too,” I say.

  We’re both quiet for a moment, drinking, glancing around the coffee shop, sitting in our mutual, comfortable silence.

  “Did you have any more demands?” I ask. “I don’t think you’ve got anything that Levi has to do yet.”

  “I’ll think of something,” she says evenly.

  “You can’t make more demands after we’ve agreed.”

  That just gets a catlike smirk that lights up her hazel eyes.

  “Can’t I?” she teases.

  Chapter Five

  Charlie

  As Daniel’s walking me to my car — something he always does, even though it’s eight-forty-five on a sunny morning in the middle of downtown Sprucevale, and I don’t think even the Vatican could possibly be safer — my phone rings, and I pull it out of my pocket.

  It’s Daniel’s mom, Clarabelle Loveless.

  “Hi, Clara,” I say.

  Daniel just watches me, one eyebrow raised.

  “Charlie!” she exclaims. “I only just heard your big news, I was at the telescope all night. You and Daniel! I have to admit, I had absolutely no idea.”

  We stop on the sidewalk, and I turn, look into Daniel’s ocean-blue eyes.

  “Well, we kept it pretty secret,” I say. “Thanks, Clara. We’re really happy.”

  “Very secret,” she says. “So secret that no one suspected a thing.”

  I give Daniel a slightly alarmed look, and he frowns.

  What? He mouths.

  I just shake my head.

  “Well, you know how gossip around town can be,” I s
ay, the words starting to tumble over each other, the way they always do when I get nervous. “And we didn’t want to tell anyone until we were super sure, because, you know, rumors and Rusty and everything so we just decided to keep it secret for those reasons! Secret reasons.”

  Daniel closes his eyes and rubs his knuckles against his forehead. I bite down on my lip so I can’t talk any more.

  “Whatever your reasons, I’m positively delighted,” Clara goes on. “You’ll have to come over for dinner tonight, of course. I’ve already talked Eli into cooking, and of course all the boys will be there. Even Caleb is driving down from school for the night.”

  “Dinner? Tonight?” I ask, and Daniel’s eyes shoot open.

  He shakes his head.

  “The usual time, six o’clock,” Clara says.

  Daniel shakes his head harder, making the cut it off gesture across his throat, and I make a face back at him that means it’s your mom, you know I can’t say no, are you crazy?

  “Six o’clock it is,” I confirm, a little more chirpily than necessary.

  Now Daniel’s making that motion with both hands at once, shaking his head at the same time.

  “See you!” Clara says, and we hang up.

  Daniel just sighs.

  There’s a heavy weight inside me, something that feels like it’s dragging my lungs down into my stomach. Daughter-in-law. Stepmom. This faking thing is bigger than just Daniel and me, and when it ends, there are going to be a lot of disappointed people.

  Now I feel guilty.

  “For the record, this?” Daniel says, shaking his head and doing the cut-it-off neck-slicing motion with his hands, “means no, stop, don’t, that sort of thing.”

  “I can’t say no to your mom,” I tell him, like he’s crazy.

  “I do it all the time.”

  “She’s your mom!” I say. “I can’t say no. Besides, everyone’s coming, Eli’s cooking, it’s gonna be a whole thing—”

  “Eli always cooks,” Daniel points out. “And everyone comes all the time.”

  “Sorry,” I say. “I spazzed.”

  “It’s okay, I just gotta tell Rusty first,” he says.

  Of course. Rusty. How could I forget?

  I wait a beat, putting my phone back into my pocket.

  “The truth?” I ask, softly, and he nods.

  I bite my lips together.

  “I can’t lie to her about this,” he says, and I nod in agreement.

  I don’t love the idea of entrusting this enormous secret to a seven-year-old, but I hate the idea of telling her that I’m going to be her stepmom only to take it back in a few months.

  “I gotta get to work,” I say, gesturing at my car.

  “Me too,” he agrees.

  Then he pauses and just looks at me, his eyes searching my face, and I look back. He’s dressed casually today — jeans and a Loveless Brewing t-shirt — but he’s still astonishingly handsome, tall, built, and intense. I swallow, momentarily lost for words.

  I could pretend to be attracted to that, I think.

  Pretend?

  “Charlie, thank you,” he says, his voice low and quiet, pitched so that only I can hear. “I know this isn’t ideal, but… thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”

  Daniel makes it easy to smile, and I do.

  “You’re welcome,” I say, and gather my courage.

  Then I walk up to my fake fiancé, put one hand on his arm, stand on my tiptoes, and kiss him on the cheek, my heart beating like a flock of starlings.

  His skin is warm under my lips, his short beard surprisingly soft. He smells a little like shampoo and a little like something sharp and earthy.

  Then it’s over, and it was no big deal except my whole body feels like a live wire.

  “See you tonight,” I say.

  His other hand skims my waist as I step back.

  “See you,” he echoes.

  * * *

  The moment I pull into the driveway, Daniel comes out of the house. By the time I’ve parked he’s walking toward me, the gravel under his bare feet not bothering him in the least.

  “I’m not that late,” I say, getting out of the car. “It’s like five after six.”

  “It’s ten after, but you’re fine,” he says. “I wanted to prepare you.”

  As if on cue, Eli’s girlfriend Violet opens the screen door, waves, then walks back inside.

  “She knows,” Daniel says, his voice low. “Her, Eli, and Levi… found out.”

  “You told them?” I ask.

  “No, they’re a bunch of nosy assholes,” he says.

  “Language,” I tease, and Daniel rolls his eyes.

  “Rusty’s inside, she can’t hear me. I told her today. She was kind of confused, but I sold it to her as a fun pretend thing that we’re doing, and I think she’s on board for now,” he goes on. “My mom, Seth, and Caleb don’t know.”

  “Yet,” I say, still looking up at the big house. We start walking.

  There’s something on the small of my back, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s his hand, just barely brushing against me, like he’s guiding me up the driveway.

  A slow, warm tingle travels up my spine, from his fingers to the nape of my neck. It’s nice. This is nice.

  I ignore it.

  “Yeah,” he agrees, his voice low and slow. “I see Seth every day at work, and Mom… you know how she is.” he mutters.

  “You mean, ‘possibly psychic’?” I ask.

  “She’s not psychic,” he says. “She just pays attention.”

  “So this secret is just between us and four other people, one of whom is in second grade,” I say.

  “Right.”

  “What could go wrong?” I ask, rhetorically.

  We reach the porch steps. Daniel’s hand is still there, on my back, and I’m doing my damnedest to pretend that this is perfectly normal, that I’m used to his light, strong fingers guiding me, that this has been happening for ages now and somehow, no one else has noticed.

  Then Daniel stops.

  “Charlie,” he says, my foot on the bottom stair. “Hold on.”

  “You need a minute?” I ask, stepping back. I couldn’t blame him if he did. The Loveless clan is delightful, but they can be intense.

  “Sort of,” he says. He takes my hand. “C’mere.”

  There’s a half-smile in his eyes that matches the one on his lips, and he tilts his head slightly to one side. I raise an eyebrow and let him lead me away from the porch steps, around the side of the old farmhouse that’s been in his family for generations.

  Surrounding the house is a strip of grass, then the forest. He leads me in on a barely-there path, and even though now I know where I’m going, he doesn’t let go of my hand.

  A hundred feet later we’re there: a small grove of cedar and pine trees, the last of the day’s sunlight filtering through, the ground covered in pine needles.

  “Don’t tell me you stole your dad’s whiskey again,” I say, looking around.

  Daniel laughs.

  “No, and I didn’t pinch a bottle of Boone’s Farm from the 7-11, either,” he says, and I involuntarily make a face.

  “Well, unless you bought pot from Silas, I give up,” I say.

  Let’s just say that Daniel and I spent some time in this little clearing while we were teenagers, and we were never doing homework. Frankly, I’m amazed we didn’t burn the whole forest down.

  “Nope,” he says, and reaches into a pocket. “Got this, though.”

  Before I can answer, he steps in front of me and pops open a small, gray box.

  “Holy shit,” I gasp, both my hands going to my mouth.

  It’s a ring, and it’s gorgeous.

  I’m not a jewelry girl. I think I own one bracelet and two necklaces, and my ears aren’t even pierced, but I’m momentarily struck dumb by this ring.

  It’s stunning. It doesn’t look a thing like I was expecting an engagement ring to look like. The central stone is square and red-orange, set
into a gray metal, two tiny white stones set into the band on either side.

  The metalwork is beautiful, delicate and solid all at once, faintly art deco.

  Even in the dim light, it flares like it’s burning from the inside.

  “Where the hell did you get this?” I breathe.

  “I think you’re supposed to jump up and down and say yes,” Daniel teases.

  “I think you’re supposed to give me a speech about how much you love me and actually propose,” I tease back, still staring at it. “Is that… real?”

  I’m kind of afraid to touch it. It looks expensive and delicate, and I have a certain bull-in-a-china-shop tendency.

  “It’s real,” he says, taking it out of the box and snapping the box shut. “It’s a garnet. My great-grandfather proposed to my great-grandmother with it.”

  My heart plummets.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Nope. No way. I can’t take that ring.”

  “Char—"

  “I’ll lose it, or I’ll maim it, or I’ll accidentally feed it to a dog—”

  “You don’t even have a dog.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I say. “Daniel, you can’t give me your family engagement ring. Doesn’t that technically belong to Levi or something? Or Eli? At least he’s dating someone.”

  “It’s first-come, first-serve,” Daniel says. “Come on, you’re not going to lose it.”

  “I can’t be trusted with that,” I insist.

  Daniel just sighs. He spins the ring in his fingers, looking down at it, thoughtfully. Then he looks back up at me.

  “I trust you,” he says simply, and holds out one hand.

  I hesitate, my eyes still on the ring. The problem is that I don’t trust me. I know how I am. I shouldn’t have nice things.

  “Come on, Charlie,” he says softly, and I take a deep breath.

  Despite all my misgivings, I reach out, put my hand in his.

  “Other one,” he says softly.

  I laugh and give him my left hand.

  “Will you fake marry me?” he asks, his tone light, teasing.

  “Nothing would make me happier,” I answer.

  “Thanks,” he says simply. “It probably needs to be resized, but— oh.”