His Make-Believe Bride

by Frankie Love

  But the truth is, I think Chum just wanted to make sure I went after her.

  He knew something about Alice before I did.

  That I needed her in my life.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what’s happened. I used to play so effortlessly, but ever since I graduated from music school and started auditioning for the symphony, I’ve been blocked. Stuck. Lost the passion I used to have when I played.”

  I hold up her hand and kiss it. I notice that her nails are short, filed to the quick, and I imagine these hands creating music. The fact that I have the privilege of holding her hand at all feels like a gift. I know how important my hands are for fishing, I can only imagine how important hers are for creating music.

  “When you talk about playing music, your voice doesn’t sound flat. It sounds like you still love it,” I tell her.

  “I do. I’m just scared I’m not cut out for it.”

  “You said you have an audition soon?” In the distance, I see the cruise boat and I know our time together is coming to an end.

  “Yeah.” She looks over at me and I see the emotion written on her face. “If I could harness the way I feel right now when I audition, I know I’d get a spot.”

  I pull the boat to a stop at the dock and look in her eyes. “And how do you feel right now?”

  Her eyelids close, she takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if it’s you or Alaska or the ocean air––but I feel alive. I feel like I can breathe.”

  “Hold on to that feeling, Alice, when you get home. Next time you play.”

  She looks at me wistfully. “I wish I could bottle this feeling up and have it at the ready when I need it.”

  I pull her to me, our foreheads touching. Meeting her was no coincidence.

  “I guess we will have to make plans to meet again. Call me, email, whatever. I’ll be out of town on a fishing trip for the next ten days, and I won’t have cell service--but afterward, I will.”

  “Do you go on fishing trips a lot?”

  I nod. “This time of year? Yeah, every few days I leave on one.” I see her eyes fall; as if she’s already trying to decide if I’m the kind of guy she can count on. “Seriously, Alice. It feels like this is way too good to be true to let it be a one-day stand.”

  “I know; I wish I could stay. But the boat’s leaving. And I have this audition in a few weeks and you live here and...” She shakes her head.

  Of course, nothing is easy in life, you see the one thing you want and can’t have it.

  “That’s why you’re gonna call me,” I tell her. “Hell, I’ll come down to Seattle and visit.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “You’re my make-believe bride, aren’t you?”

  She shakes her head. “My life is so different than yours though...,”

  “I know, I know.” I run my hands over her cheeks, cupping her face and pulling her to me. “I know you’re a woman who minds her manners and is so damn sweet, and I’m a burly Alaskan mountain man, but I’m not through with you, Alice.”

  “Will you kiss me goodbye?” she asks.

  “I’ll kiss you, but only if you promise to call.”

  She nods her head. “I will. I promise, Aiden.”

  So I give her what we both want.

  A deep kiss full of expectation. Full of hope.

  Full of desire.

  I kiss Alice until my cock is hard and she’s left wet and wanting.

  Good.

  That is how I need her.

  Longing for more.

  That will guarantee she’ll call me. Which I need her to do.

  Because I’m not through with Alice yet.

  Chapter Seven

  The moment I get on the boat, I make a beeline to my cabin. I need to take a shower and use the chance to think about what happened today.

  My body had no desire to walk out of Aiden’s truck.

  But I knew I had to. As much as I wanted to miss the ship and just stay in his arms forever, I know that wasn’t realistic.

  Not because he feels like a stranger – he doesn’t. Not anymore. We made love all day, I slept in his arms, and even had a proper date at a bar. Not to mention the fact that I came face-to-face with his ex. We did a lot in less than twelve hours.

  So, no, Aiden doesn’t feel like a stranger. I said as much to him earlier, in a lot of ways he feels more real to me than my family does.

  I could be myself with him. I laughed and was vulnerable. We were honest with one another. And with him, I was a braver, stronger version of myself.

  A version I wish I were more often.

  And I like that a strong man like him made me feel safe enough to shed the skin I usually wear.

  I haven’t even stepped in the shower--I’ve only been inside the cabin for about twelve seconds––when my mom is already knocking on the door.

  “Alice, let me in. I have a few things I need to say to you. You didn’t answer your phone all day and we were worried sick.”

  I pull open the door. “Mom, I get it. We fought. I left. But I’m back now. Okay? And right now, I’m tired. I had a long day and really don’t need your flak right now.”

  Mom scoffs. “You don’t have time for my flak? Who do you think you are?”

  I rest a hand on the doorframe, suddenly completely spent. “I think I’m a woman who is finally figuring out what it means to stick up for herself. So, excuse me, but I’m done with this conversation. I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.”

  With that, I shut the door not waiting for her response.

  Then I take that shower I was dreaming about. I run soap over my body, washing my skin, and luxuriate in the thought of my lips touching Aiden’s.

  My mind’s a roller coaster of emotion... already second guessing my choice to walk away even though I know I had to.

  When I crawl into bed all I can think about is the way his body felt against mine. The way his cock felt inside my pussy. The way his tongue rolled over –

  Oh, boy. I need to stop this line of thinking because it’s only going to get me horny.

  And this cruise ship is leaving the port. Within the hour Aiden and his fishing boat will be far, far away.

  Despite my attempt to resist, my hand travels past my belly button and moves between my thighs.

  I may not have Aiden with me, but I certainly have my memories of him.

  A week later my family is back home. We’re sitting on the back deck and enjoying a BBQ dinner, my sister in full-on wedding mode. The big day is only two weeks away and now that the family vacation is behind us, it’s time to focus on centerpieces, dresses, and the list just goes on and on.

  But I can’t seem to focus on her pending nuptials.

  I’ve been thinking about Aiden constantly. I know he said he was leaving on a ten-day fishing expedition, and wouldn’t have any cell service while he was gone, but he’ll be home tomorrow.

  And I plan on calling him.

  He’s really all I’ve been thinking about this week. That, and of course I’ve been practicing my cello religiously, and for the first time in ages, my music feels inspired. Ever since my night with Aiden, my music has held a new kind of excitement.

  When I play, I find myself filled with sensual emotions and it’s forcing me to put a new spin on my piece. It’s like giving myself to Aiden has opened me up.

  My parents have noticed. Dad constantly tells me how amazed he is with my sudden turn-around. He mentions that on the cruise he wondered if I was a quitter for the first time in his life.

  Everyone is sure my audition next week is going to be a roaring success--but of course, I’m not that confident. I’ve failed to secure a spot in this symphony twice already.

  To say I believe in my ability to nail it on the third try, would be more than a stretch.

  But since meeting Aiden, I’m not as anxious over the whole thing. I’ve been picking up my cello every day, not because it’s on my schedule--but because when I play, my heart expands. I’m able to get lost in the musi
c and the memory of my time with Aiden.

  So, as we sit at the BBQ, I eat my grilled chicken in silence not wanting to bring attention to myself. Of course, that is when all eyes seem to land on me.

  “Are you and Dad ready to play at the ceremony?” Anna asks.

  Dad smiles tightly. The truth is I haven’t given much attention to the request my sister made that Dad and I play a duet at the wedding. Dad picked out the piece a few months ago, and we’ve run through it a few times, but there’s been so much tension brewing between us that we have avoided talking about our performance.

  “It will be perfect, Anna,” Dad says, patting his eldest daughter’s hand with a sure smile. “Alice and I will not disappoint you.”

  “Dad’s right. The piece will be nothing but the best,” I tell her, wishing I could make an inroad with my dad before Anna’s big day.

  “So now that that is settled, I wanted to remind you, Alice, that Peter is going to be your date. He’ll be at the rehearsal dinner too,” Anna says, getting my attention.

  I raise an eyebrow. “No way. I’m not going with Peter. Remember last year when we had Thanksgiving dinner with his family? It was so creepy.”

  Anna immediately purses her lips. “You always say it was creepy, but you are the only person who thought it was.”

  I snort. “Anna, he literally kept asking if I wanted more gravy.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Mom asks.

  I look at them incredulously. “He meant baby-gravy. Meaning he wanted to sleep with me.”

  That’s the last straw for my dad, who finally interjects. “He’s the man everyone expects you’ll marry--”

  “Dad, I don’t care about that,” I say plainly, not even feeling the need to argue. It is just flat-out not happening. “I’m not going with him.”

  After meeting with Aiden, everyone gave me a lot of heat for the rest of the cruise. My foray into the Alaskan wild upset everyone and they had no qualms with letting me know.

  By the end of breakfast the day after I lost my virginity, I was so tired of their pushback that I just went along with their regularly scheduled program for the rest of the trip. Since I got home, I’ve barely had a second to get out of line. This audition really does mean so much to me that I wouldn’t dream of sabotaging it by getting distracted with an argument.

  But telling me Peter is my date?

  No. This deserves a conversation.

  “It’s not happening,” I tell them. “Isn’t it better that everyone knows my intention now instead of later?”

  “Intention?” Mom asked eyebrow raised.

  “Yes. My intention. I don’t intend to have a future with Peter. I never have.”

  Mom narrows her eyes. “This isn’t a discussion. He has agreed to go with you. You’d be a fool to think he isn’t enough, and it isn’t like there are any other offers on the table.”

  I hate that they think they know me better than I know myself.

  And I do have offers.

  Well, not exactly offers, but experience.

  I’m fuming, my hands are clenched in my lap, and I swear my knuckles are white. There is no way I’m going to a family wedding with Peter Gunheight. I loathe the man. Talk about a control freak. Talk about a man who sees a woman as an object, not as a person. He’s only interested in getting me in bed.

  I’ve been out with him plenty of times over the years, we’ve so often been forced together at events that mean nothing to me and he is always the same. An uptight asshole. He thinks because he’s as rich as I am, that we’re the same.

  But we’re not cut from the same cloth.

  “I’m not going with Peter,” I say with finality.

  My sister and Donovan glare at me. And I remember that Peter and Donovan were college buddies. Of course, they were.

  “Yes, you are,” Anna says. “You have to come with someone and you have no other option. You’ll ruin the seating arrangement otherwise.”

  They’re more concerned with a dinner than they are about my feelings. I can’t even.

  “Actually,” I say, pursing my lips in a fashion that is uniquely me. “I have a date.”

  “You have a what?” Anna asks.

  “A date. As in a man taking me to your wedding in two weeks. A date.”

  Mom laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Alice. Even if you did have a date, you can’t just go with anyone. We would have to pre-approve –”

  “No, actually you don’t have to pre-approve anything. I’m twenty-one years old. I live here because you won’t give me access to my trust fund until I get a spot in the symphony. But I can go to my sister’s wedding with whomever I please.”

  “And who is this date of yours anyways?” Dad asks.

  “For your information,” I tell them, hands clasped tight in my lap. “He’s my friend Aiden. My very good friend.”

  “And where is this Aiden person from?”

  “From Alaska. We met on the cruise.”

  “And we never met him?” Anna asks. Disbelief is written on her face. “We were on that boat for seven days.”

  “Right, well, we met on the fishing excursion.”

  My sister laughs sharply. “But why didn’t we meet him?”

  “He wasn’t exactly on the cruise. He was the guide.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Alice,” Dad cuts in. “A fishing guide you met for one day is going to fly down here for your sister’s wedding?”

  “I can’t believe you guys. I can’t believe this conversation. Why is it so impossible to believe that someone would want to be with me?”

  Mom shakes her head ever so slightly. “Alice, frankly, it’s hard to imagine anyone bringing you out of your shell. Let alone a fisherman.” She says the last part with such disdain I hear my teeth grind.

  I’ve had enough.

  “I’m only in this shell because you’re refusing to let me crack it open.” I toss my napkin on the table, hating that I’m getting angry and walking away, but I can’t stay any longer and listen to them talk like this about me.

  They don’t seem to understand that they are the problem.

  I feel stuck and I’m tired of it. I’m only having a breakthrough with my music because of Aiden.

  Now I have to prove them wrong.

  Now, I just have to tell my make-believe fiancé that he’s going to be my date to my sister’s wedding.

  Chapter Eight

  I have been waiting to get off my fishing trip for the last ten days. All I want to do is get back home, get cell service, and talk to Alice.

  Of course, I’m terrified she forgot about me.

  But I’m not plagued with that doubt too often.

  Truth is, I don’t think she could have forgotten about me. What we shared was too real. It was one perfect fucking day.

  One perfect day fucking.

  I know she’ll call.

  And she does. I’m in my truck driving to my parents’ house for family dinner when she calls. I pull over on the side of the road to answer the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello,” she answers breathlessly. Her voice is so soft over the phone that I can barely hear it.

  “You sound surprised to hear me.”

  “Part of me wondered if that whole day was a dream.”

  “More like a fucking fantasy,” I tell her, looking at Chum who’s suddenly jumped closer to me, and barking. I put the phone on speaker to appease him.

  “That Chum?” she asks warmly.

  The sound of her voice settles him, and he curls back in his seat.

  Her voice doesn’t calm me though.

  It gives me a shock.

  My body is immediately electrified. Pulsing with energy.

  “Yeah. It’s Chum and me. We’re going to my parents’ for dinner. But, Alice, are you doing okay?” I ask. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

  She pauses. A pause so long that I get scared something’s changed.

  But when she speaks, I know nothing has. “I
’ve been counting down the days until you got back from your trip,” she tells me. “I’ve been so anxious to hear your voice. I miss you, Aiden.”

  “I can’t go to sleep at night without thinking about our time together,” I tell her. “About how fucking sweet you are.”

  “The same is true for me,” she says. “Honestly, I can’t go to bed without...”

  “Touching yourself when you think about me?” I tease.

  I swear to God I can see her blushing through the phone.

  “You can’t talk like that when Chum is present,” she jokes. But I know she means it too. She’s the same girl I met a few weeks ago. Innocent.

  “Okay, so a safer topic, is that what you’re asking for?”

  She laughs. “Yes, exactly. Tell me about this family dinner. Do your parents still live in the house you grew up in?”

  “Yeah, same place. It’s on the water, gorgeous property.”

  “Wow, waterfront? Sounds fancy,” she says.

  “Well, Alaska fancy isn’t the same as mainland fancy,” I say this, but it isn’t really true. My parents have a beautiful estate, and it’s the largest home for hundreds of miles. “But we make up for it with my mom’s cooking. She knows her way around a kitchen.”

  “That’s awesome. I don’t think I can make a grilled cheese sandwich without burning it.”

  I love this woman’s honesty. She isn’t trying to prove anything to me, she is herself, through and through. “That’ll work out fine, I’m a pretty good cook myself.”

  “So, you’re planning on cooking for me?”

  “Sounds nice, doesn’t it? The two of us out on my boat deck, watching the sunset, eating whatever I caught that day.”

  I hear her sigh through the phone. “That sounds so relaxing. I would give my left eye to do that with you right now.”

  “Don’t need to poke out your eye to see me, Alice. I want to make plans to see you again, properly.”

  “Well,” she says, her voice catching. “I was hoping we could make plans too.”