Fake Wife

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Fake Wife Page 9

by Stacey Lynn


  This man. He’s going to drive me crazy.

  He shifts, and his lips graze my cheek. Just a hint, the briefest of touches, but between his hands and his scent and his lips and his words and the wicked gleam in his eye, I’m coming undone.

  I swallow thickly, a lump in my throat making it difficult to breathe. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  He grins, and it’s undeniable to both of us the effect he’s having on me, but this is ridiculous. Business, money, goals, and life dreams.

  It’s all mixed with a whole lot of pretending, and I have to remember it.

  I push out of my chair and head to the restroom, where I wash my hands longer than necessary just to stall. A quick glance in the mirror shows that I’m correct. It’s not possible to hide the attraction I feel for him.

  Cheeks flushed, eyes wide, desire is flaring all over my features. I have to school this reaction to Corbin Lane immediately.

  Or learn to ignore it.

  I pat down some loose, frizzy hair at my temples and fluff my hair, not bothering to reapply lipstick in fear it will make me look like a clown to match the red cheeks. I can’t delay anymore.

  I open the door to the restroom and barrel into a wall of a man.

  “Oh!” I gasp as two hands curl around my biceps.

  They don’t belong to Corbin and I’m immediately alarmed. They’re not as warm or as nice and it takes me a moment to recognize the man who’s pushing me out of the doorway of the bathroom and against the wall.

  “Drake? What are you doing here?”

  My blood chills, and the desire I was just trying to hide is no longer a concern.

  “Me?” He leans in and drops his hands from my arms down to my hands. “What are you doing here? And with Corbin Lane of all people? Are you okay?”

  My blood is pumping much too fast, my mind reeling. In front of me is the man I recently caught cheating on me, and while the pain at seeing him is real and very vivid, fresh like a wasp sting and burning, I can’t answer.

  Speechless, I let him pull me back into a corner past the bathrooms.

  “Talk to me, honey.”

  It’s the honey that does it, dousing me with cool water. I yank my hand out of his. A week ago, I craved his rich brown eyes, his close-cropped dark hair that was fuzzy and spiky when I ran my hand over his head. Now it’s all wrong.

  He no longer has the right to use that term of endearment.

  “I didn’t know you would be here,” I say, responding to nothing he’s asked.

  He doesn’t deserve my answers, and I blink away the image I have of him, some blonde bent over our bed—my side of the bed, her arms holding on to my pillow—while he thrusts into her from behind.

  Damn. Was it really only a week ago? I see it all in the blink of an eye like it’s happening all over again.

  “It’s for the hospital. Most doctors not working tonight are here. You haven’t been answering my calls.”

  I turned my phone off when I spent the weekend with Corbin, and since we’ve been back in town, I’ve barely had it on at all. There’s no one to call and no one who would be calling me except Drake. I haven’t wanted to hear a single word he has to say, but now I can’t avoid him.

  Damn it.

  This is what I get for making a fool out of myself at the table.

  Lady luck hates me.

  “I have nothing to say to you,” I say, my voice breathless.

  Until last Friday, Drake was the most attractive and sexiest person I thought I’d ever meet. I fell in love with him under a cherry tree six months after we started dating our junior year. He brought me a picnic lunch in between spring finals, helped me study for my statistics final because I completely suck at math, and then we made out, fumbling like teenagers, keeping it PG since we were in public, but it didn’t matter to me if anyone saw us or laughed as they walked by.

  He’s been my world for seven years, and even in the last year when we were more strangers than lovers, I still never considered seeing someone else.

  It’s always been him—until he made sure he wasn’t anymore.

  “You have to let me explain, Teagan. Please. I hate that you saw what you did.”

  His words burn through me, fire shoots from my eyes in a way I wish would burn him to pulp. “I’m sure you do hate I caught you cheating on me.”

  I give him nothing but coldness. He’s lost the right to have anything else.

  He smiles at me, though, and my knees wobble. I know every line of his body, every curve of his lips. I’ve memorized the gold flecks in his eyes and the exact arch of his brows. I’ve spent countless hours running fingers along his cheekbones and jaw. The small bump on his nose, a break from falling off a dirt bike when he was twelve that never healed correctly.

  I’ve spent so many years with him it’s impossible not to be affected by the way he smiles at me, eyelids closing in his perfectly seductive and sexy way, and leans into me. He cages me against the wall, his fingers running along mine at my side, his other arm braces against the wall by my head, and I’m thrown into the epicenter of a hurricane.

  This is Drake. My love. The man I’d planned to marry and live out my dreams with. He stomped all over them and I hate him for it, but it doesn’t mean I’ve been able to turn off all the love I have for him, either.

  “Drake,” I whisper. “Please don’t.”

  “Don’t what? Apologize? Beg? Grovel. Let me explain. We can work through this, Teagan. I’ve missed you.”

  His hand drifts up my arm, skating and teasing over my flesh, and settles on my hip.

  A lump lodges in my throat, my vision goes hazy.

  I’ve had two lovers in my life: a fumbling incident at a high school party after drinking too much and craving the need to get rid of my V-card, and then nothing until I met this man in front of me.

  He’s taught me everything, patiently and tenderly most of the time. Rough and impatient, fueled with lust and desperate need at other times.

  I can’t stop my reaction to him, and despite the pain, despite everything I know he’s saying is a lie, my body still reacts.

  I blame Corbin and his stupid kisses and excellent cologne and sexy confidence.

  It’s that reminder that snaps me back.

  I can’t do this.

  I can’t ever be with Drake again. Not because he’s a lying, cheating scumbag, but because I’ve made new promises. Ones that won’t hurt my heart.

  “Step back,” I say, pushing against him to put space between us.

  “Say you’ll let me explain.”

  I open my mouth to speak when another voice slashes through the air.

  “I’m going to have to ask you to get your hands off my girl.”

  Corbin. I squeeze my eyes closed.

  I recognize the voice, the coolness and the distance and the blankness of it all. Shit. I’ve driven him back to prickish and cold asshole and I have no one to blame but myself.

  I push Drake again and he’s entirely unaffected.

  “Your girl?” he asks, tugging on his cuff links beneath his tuxedo. When did he have time to buy that? Or is it rented? He’s never once owned a tuxedo in his life. “Funny. I’m pretty certain she’s mine.”

  Corbin flinches and holds out his hand to me. I take it without hesitation and let him pull me to his side. “That true?”

  His gaze slices to me, and beneath his anger, other emotions are swirling in his eyes, but the most obvious is doubt.

  “No,” I whisper, more for his ears than for Drake’s. “You know I’m not.”

  “That’s right, baby.” He drops his head. I fight not to flinch at the cheap endearment, the coolness in his voice. He’s playing a role. Damn. He’s good at it, too. “How about we get out of here.”

  Drake scoffs. Cool and evil. I’ve never seen this side of him. “Come on, Teagan. This guy will throw you away as soon as you spread your legs for him. Seven years together, you can at least let me explain.”

  “She walked in a
nd saw your dick in someone else’s pussy. Pretty sure that’s all the explanation she needs.” The memory hits me again, making my stomach churn. “Now she’s found someone else. Get over it.”

  “There you are.” All of us twist toward the female voice, and as soon as I see that mess of blond hair bouncing on her shoulders, my veins turn to ice.

  I must make a sound, something like vomit pooling in my throat. Corbin reacts, pulling me closer to him. His arm is warm at my back, his hand just at the top of my ass, but even his heat and his scent cannot distract me from the woman who’s grinning at Drake and walking directly to him.

  “Where have you been? Daddy’s been looking for you, sweetie.”

  Daddy? Sweetie?

  I look to the floor. If I puke, I want to avoid my pretty new shoes.

  “Of course,” Corbin says, that cold laugh forcing me to look at him. “Missy. How is your father?” His fingertips dig into my skin, hot points at my lower back that feel like darts he’s about ready to throw. “The head of cardiac surgery.” He quiets his voice and I blink.

  Drake is banging his boss’s daughter.

  “Please,” I croak. A thousand shards of glass line my throat making words difficult. “Get me out of here.”

  “Enjoy your evening,” he says to Drake and the blonde, whom I’ve seen naked. Her body is burned into my memory banks forever.

  I need to get drunk. The drink-until-I-puke-all-night-and-the-next-morning drunk. Tequila. That’ll do it. I hope he has some. A whole bottle, probably more expensive than anything I’ve ever seen.

  “Be careful, Teagan, he’s not good enough for you.”

  I flinch at Drake’s last words as Corbin guides me away. The urge to shout back that neither was he burns on my tongue, but I bite it back. Because what he’s really saying is that I’m not woman enough to keep either of them.

  I already know I’m going to end up alone after all this is said and done, but at least I’ll finally be able to accomplish some of my dreams.

  I hope it will be enough to erase the pain of losing everything—and everyone—else.

  Chapter 12

  Corbin

  I pull Teagan out of the hotel, her heels clicking wildly on the pavement beneath us. Click, click, click.

  The sound echoes in my head like a ticking time bomb. Which makes sense. It’s exactly what it feels like is about ready to burst inside my chest.

  Rage? Hot, white fury boiling through me? It can only be jealously, pure and evil, and something I’ve never experienced.

  I’ve never once fought over a girl. I’ve never cared enough. Never wanted one enough. When I went to the restroom to search for Teagan when she was taking so long, I never expected to see red flash at the edges of my vision when I caught another man so fucking close to her he could have easily pressed his dick against her stomach and shoved his tongue into her mouth.

  Now I’m fuming that all of this is going to explode and I’m going to be left looking like a fool. She’s going to make me look like a fool.

  I don’t even know how I’ve given her the power to twist me up and outside in like this, but I hate it. This is why one-night stands are the best inventions. Get your rocks off and get out.

  It’s the only way to keep your head in the game. She was supposed to be that for me. Instead, she’s becoming so much more, and none of it makes a lick of a damn sense.

  “Slow down,” she huffs, trying to pull her hand out of mine. “Before I do a face-plant. Please, Corbin.” She yanks again and I stop.

  Fuck. My lungs are burning, chest heaving.

  Does she have any idea what she does to me? How fucking insane I’ve felt for the last week?

  She can’t. Not if she can look at her cheating, asshole ex with that look of oh please fuck me now in her eyes.

  That kiss we shared earlier lit a fuse and it’s too late to put it out. Touching her throughout dinner, my hand on her shoulder, the silkiness of her hair—I’ve been sporting a hard-on for hours. For a moment at dinner, when she turned and laughed at some story Caitlin was sharing, I’d seen that same look in her eyes I knew was in mine.

  For a brief moment, I hoped. Hoped that maybe since we have to spend two years together, we could see if we actually have something real between us.

  Seeing her give that fucking asshole the same exact look shot that hope to shit.

  Now I’m pissed. At myself, at Teagan and the taste of her mouth I now know is better than what I’d imagined.

  But it’s all an act, all one big fucking act for her.

  “I had no idea he was going to be here,” Teagan says. She’s breathless, panting, and again I’m a dick. There’s no reason to haul her out of the hotel like it’s on fire.

  “I know.” My jaw aches from grinding my teeth together. “Bet you didn’t know he was fucking the boss’s daughter, either, did you?”

  “Well, no, not until I saw them together.”

  “Did it hurt?”

  A line pops between her eyes and she tilts her head to the side. “What?”

  “Did it hurt?” I point my finger in the direction of the hotel. “Did it hurt to see him with her? Does it hurt you to know he was all over you and I’m guessing is trying to find a way to get you back? Did that hurt, Teagan?”

  “I was with him for almost seven years. Of course seeing all of that hurt.”

  Of course.

  I drop her hand and pull out my phone, texting the driver to bring the car. She walks up next to me and touches my forearm.

  I pull away. Fuck this. Keep it business, keep her at a distance.

  “Did you think I was going to go back to him? Because he trapped me outside a bathroom and apologized?”

  “I don’t know anything about you, Teagan.” I slide my phone into my coat pocket and cross my arms over my chest, staring out at the dark night. The hotel across the street. At nothing. “But you need to be more careful. One photo of you seen with another man after you’ve been photographed with me will throw the gossip mill into overdrive.”

  The car pulls up and Gabe, my driver, steps out, moving to the back passenger door. As soon as it’s opened, Teagan steps forward, glaring at me as she passes.

  “Thanks for being an even bigger asshole than Drake. Helps me remember that when you’re nice, it’s all one big act you’re putting on. Reminds me of our agreement and my place in your life.”

  She slides into the car, disappearing, and I stand on the sidewalk too damn long, until Gabe calls my name.

  I shove my hands through my hair and groan toward the heavens.

  Fuck.

  —

  Car ride from hell. An elevator ride to the twenty-sixth floor even worse.

  I’ve already apologized for being a jerk to her more than once tonight. Right now there’s no way she’s going to believe another one.

  She’s made her point, and she’s not wrong in any of it. I’ve been manic at best when it comes to Teagan.

  Completely psychotic at worst.

  I find her in my kitchen, slamming doors open and closed on a clear hunt for something.

  Hopefully not a large, sharp knife.

  “Where’s your alcohol? Tequila preferably. Anything but that scotch stuff you drink.”

  I walk around where she’s crouched in the corner, digging through my pots and pans cupboard, keeping my laughter to myself. Why the hell would I hide alcohol behind stockpots?

  “It’s all in here.” I have the butler pantry cupboards open as she stands, wiping her hands down her dress. Spectacular. Jesus. My jaw tightens at the sight of her walking closer to me, eyes narrowed into tiny slits. Her hips, her breasts, all in a tall and luscious package. I want to unwrap her like a treasured present, splay her out on my bed, and discover every hidden inch of her. Although I’d prefer to do it all when I’m not worried about her slicing off my dick. The glare she shoots me tells me she’s at least considered it.

  She skirts around me, reaching for a glass and filling it with ice
before returning. I pull down two different bottles of tequila.

  “Did you buy all this?” she asks, looking at the fully stocked bar.

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  “Of course,” she mutters, her voice slightly petulant. “Which one’s the most expensive?”

  “The Gran Patrón was a few hundred, the 1800 a couple grand.”

  I expect her to reach for the Patrón but she doesn’t. Grabbing the 1800, she dumps it into her glass, filling it to the brim.

  I laugh softly. She wants to get wasted on my good shit to get back at me for being a jerk? Have at it. Instead of joining her, even though getting wasted after tonight sounds like a fantastic idea, I move to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. Someone should be sober when she gets drunk.

  When I look back at Teagan, she’s sitting at the bar, both hands wrapped around her now half-emptied glass of tequila, her face scrunched up.

  “Is my good stuff not good enough for you?” I’m unable to resist teasing her despite the murderous look she flashes me.

  She tosses back another large swallow, hiding a cough she clearly wants to let loose.

  “Teagan—”

  She cuts me off by lifting her hand and takes another drink. “I don’t need more apologies from you. I’ve heard enough.”

  “Just let me—”

  “What? Explain? How many men do I have to listen to explain why they decide it’s okay to treat me like crap?”

  Shit. I haven’t thought of it like that.

  I pull my phone out of my jacket, which I take off, loosening the tie at my neck. Giving her the silence she wants, and unable to fix it because I have treated her like crap with no good excuse, I check my phone, flipping through emails. Shit. I’m going to have to head back out to Cannon Bluffs to get to work.

  “I loved him,” she says, startling me.

  Her first glass is emptied and refilled and she spins it around in a circle. Already her cheeks and the tip of her nose are pink, showing the alcohol is hitting her system.

  “Loved him with everything I had. Dropped out of school to follow his dreams, gave him literally everything I had to help him, knowing in the end it’d be worth it because we would make both of our dreams come true if I waited long enough.”

 

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