Fake Marriage Box Set (A Single Dad Romance)

by Claire Adams

  I knew that I should have restraint and keep reminding myself that everything about this was fake, and none of it was meant to last, but it was very difficult. I had spent so much time being sad and unhappy that the idea of a family was hard to push away, even when the repercussions of it seemed so very real and terrifying. I could feel myself slipping into the illusion of a happy family, the vision of smiles and laughter, family and caring, that every person wanted in their lives. The pure essence of humanity was the need for others, the connection between the stardust and the absence of the separation. But at what cost? What would I allow myself to pay, in order to disappear into this illusion for a time, forgetting the inevitable end result—and the lonely emptiness it would bring? I feared it was too late to be asking myself these questions, and that I had already allowed the illusion to take over.

  This couldn’t be any more self-evident than the course my emotions took me over in the next few minutes. It was then that I knew I had fallen into this world, this blissful mockery of a real family, and that I wasn’t willing to come out. Maybe it was my depression, locking me into the first real glimpse of happiness I had seen in a very long time, or maybe it was my body responding to the blinding fear I lived with each day. Whatever it was, I realized that I was feeling things stronger and more openly than I ever had before.

  “Well, I’ve got to take Jake back now,” Luke said, rubbing his hand over my shoulder. “He’s going to be bummed.”

  I knew exactly what Jake was going to feel, because I was feeling it, too. It was a desolation, a tingle in the stomach that forced you to begin to see reality through the guise of fantasy. Jake wanted this life just as much as I did, and to know it had to end, even just for a little while, was almost crushing. Still, I stepped out of that dark place and wrapped my arms around Jake, telling him it would be okay, reminding him that I would be there waiting for him to come back. He kissed me on the cheek and left with his dad.

  The time that passed between when Jake walked out and when Luke walked back in seemed like only moments, since I had gotten lost in my thoughts, philosophizing about my own internal battles. Luke was quiet, quieter than I had ever seen him before. I could tell that taking his son back to Sarah was painful and nerve-racking, and he could sense the awkward silence that the house had fallen into just as much as I could. I tried to clear the air, to continue forward, so I made dinner and set the table, lingering for a moment as I stared at the seat Jake was sitting in only hours before. I took a deep breath and served dinner, sitting down across from Luke and waiting to see if he would say anything to break the silence. Instead, we internalized, something I had become a pro at doing.

  When dinner was done and the dishes rinsed and loaded, I watched as Luke grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped the top off. He waved it at me, extending the offer to join him. I almost never drank, but at that moment, with the emotions in my chest threatening to overwhelm me, I really wanted to take the edge off. I shook my head yes and took the beer from his hand, smiling at him. We walked outside onto the back patio and sat down, watching as the sun set over the treetops. It was quiet, serene almost, and I sat curled up with my knees to my chest replaying every giggle and every crazy moment of the weekend.

  As the sun dipped below the horizon and the chill of the approaching fall air floated over the lawn, I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. The sounds of the evening creatures echoed in the background, and the smell of freshly cut grass filled my lungs. As I let the breath release, I looked over at Luke, who was sitting comfortably, taking a drink of his beer. He was lost in his thoughts, I could tell, and I liked him like that, someone who may act strong and resilient on the outside, but was really a thinker on the inside. Suddenly, as if he were watching a funny scene from a movie, he began to laugh, quietly at first, but eventually becoming rolling and loud. I smiled and crumpled my eyebrows together, curious of what he was thinking about.

  “What is so funny?”

  “I was just thinking about the store yesterday,” he said, swallowing his laugh.

  “What about it?”

  “How Jake and I had that contest, that race to the end of the aisle,” he said, smiling. “The one where we were bouncing up and down on those giant balls.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I chuckled. “He was so serious about that race. He looked like he had prepared his whole life to race you down the aisles of Robertson’s on those bouncy balls.”

  “He thought he was going to lose too, especially with the way my body darted out ahead of his,” he laughed. “He forgot my legs were much longer and I could move with speed and agility.”

  “It was amazing to watch,” I said, looking over at him. “Especially when you ate shit about three-quarters of the way down the aisle and went rolling out into the clothes rack. I hadn’t even realized that a group of employees was standing there watching until they started clapping for you.”

  “That was not my proudest moment,” he said laughing. “My ass went straight up in the air, and that ball must have flown about fifteen feet.”

  “It should be,” I said.

  “It should be what?”

  “One of your proudest moments,” I replied, looking out at the orange skies. “Do you ever take the time and think about your past? I don’t mean like the immediate past, but your childhood. You always remember the oddest things, things that at that moment didn’t seem to make any difference, but as you get older, they are the things that end up defining you and how you live your life. It’s strange, really.”

  “You’re right, I never thought of it that way,” he said. “I wonder what Jake will see when he looks back.”

  “You, ass in the air, laughing hysterically,” I said, with a smile.

  “I hope so,” he said, looking over at me and raising his beer. “I really hope so.”

  I smiled back at him, then returned my gaze back to the sky where the moon was starting to become bright in the heavens. That single memory had touched me; it had moved through me, taking another piece of me and handing it over to Luke. He really had no idea how many pieces of my heart that he and his son held, but it was starting to become more than I could count. I used to think that memories were the best part of life, but after the baby died, I prayed and begged that I could forget those memories, realizing that what mattered most was the time you actually spent making them. But time was finite, and it moved quicker than I could handle, especially in this situation.

  I took in a deep breath and sipped my beer, feeling the alcohol moving down my throat and into my belly. The real reason I tried not to drink was because I feared that my ability to forget—to pick and choose what I wanted to think about—would be lost because alcohol relaxed my steely grip. But right then, sitting under the stars, it was okay. That beer was enabling me to relax my shoulders and revel in those memories that had just occurred. Maybe the visions of events burned into your brain weren’t that bad after all. I mean, they kept people from making mistakes, even children younger than Jake. The emotion behind the memory was what pushed you forward or pulled you back, depending on your own fragility and will.

  I was tired of memories pulling me back; I wanted those that would catapult me forward. Jake and Luke seemed to be able to give me those kinds of imprints. The kind that drove me to wake up at the break of dawn and cook breakfast, read a book, or sometimes just relax, enjoying a cup of coffee. The reality of it all was the fact that I wasn’t going to be able to get rid of that while I was here. No matter how hard I tried to keep my distance, there would be laughter, tears, and conversations. There would be events imprinted on my brain that would carry over until the task was done, until I was released to go back home and figure out what to do from there. That would be the moment I would hate the memories—when I knew I could no longer make any more with Luke and Jake.

  The cold breeze began to pick up, and I watched as the trees bowed and shook from the force. I set my empty beer bottle on the table and pulled my arms around my knees, goosebumps
beginning to creep over my arms and legs. It was getting cold, and my thoughts had been completely interrupted by the sudden change in temperature. You could see the clouds moving overhead and the predicted storms moving across the streaming light of the moon. I felt like it was my heart that the weather was imitating, but I pushed it away, knowing that I might as well enjoy my time because whether I liked it or not, it was going to leave an imprint.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Luke

  It was a beautiful night, and the colors of the sky really lifted my blue spirits. I hadn’t wanted to take Jake back at all. In fact, it took everything I had to actually get out of the car and take him inside. He wanted to leave Galileo, his stuffed animal, with me so that I wouldn’t be lonely, but I knew his mother would give him a hard time for leaving it behind, so I let him know that I would be okay, just knowing I would get to see him soon. I was almost glad that Quinn and I had spent the evening in silence, allowing us each to reflect on the weekend, and look toward the future.

  As the wind blew across the back porch, I looked over at Quinn, who was grasping her legs tightly now. It was obvious that she was cold, and I didn’t want to force her to be miserable. She looked so beautiful in her contemplative state, sitting under the rays of the moon.

  “Why don’t we go inside,” I said. “It’s getting pretty chilly out here, and we have a bit to clean up.”

  The dishwasher had completed its cycle, and there were still counters to clean before we called it a night. Immediately we both went to work, doing whatever needed to be done to get the house back in order. I didn’t realize until Quinn moved in how much better I felt having a clean and orderly house. Not that I was a slob, but I was a single man living alone, so most of the time I took shortcuts. Quinn liked to clean up before bed so she could start fresh in the morning with no mess and no fuss. As I sprayed the counter and wiped it down, I got this knot in my stomach, immediately realizing that everything was feeling eerily domesticated, something I had tried really hard to get away from. It made me nervous, so I picked another beer out of the fridge and downed it, smiling at Quinn, who was looking at me with raised eyebrows.

  She giggled as I walked over to the trash can and tossed in the bottle, making me think about Sarah and how she never let me have beer in the house. How she wanted everything perfect, but never really understood the idea that sacrifice was required to get it there. I pushed Sarah from my mind, realizing that thinking about her was not what I wanted to do at all. What I needed to do was keep my independence, since I had worked so damn hard to get it. I had to remind myself that what was going on in this house was temporary and that sooner rather than later, I would be back on my own, free to date whoever I wanted at that moment, and responsible for everything in my life and in Jake’s. I would have to make breakfast, do laundry, and drink alone at my house, probably wishing Quinn was back there with me.

  What was I saying? In just a few months, I would be back to the single life, which I loved, and I could really be with whoever I pleased. From the outside, that statement sounded fantastic since it gave me complete control over my life, and I didn’t have to share that with anyone. On the inside, though, I knew that it wasn’t going to make me happy. At that moment, Quinn was the woman who I wanted; she was the woman who was going to make me feel content and full. She was the woman who had my full, and undivided attention, something that hadn’t happened in a very, very long time.

  There was just something about her that revved my engines and put a lump in my stomach, and completely turned my world upside down every time I was near her. There was something about Quinn that made her so amazing to be around. She was beautiful, sexy, resourceful, and she was constantly putting others first, even when it was obvious that she needed to take care of herself. There didn’t seem to be a selfish bone in her body, and that was not what I was used to when it came to women. I was used to the cheerleader who had been more worried about checking her makeup every five seconds, and seeing what her friends were doing, than having any kind of conversation with me. Of course, at the time that was exactly what I wanted, since anything else just made things more complicated. Such complication was not what I needed at that point, but things had fallen into that realm before I even realized it.

  I shifted my position, my mind falling to my dick that was struggling inside my pants. It was no joke; ever since the first night Quinn moved in, I had woken up with a hard-on every single morning. It was actually starting to get kind of painful, and that wasn’t my M.O. at all. I wasn’t the guy who usually poked you in the back in the morning unless I happened to wake up completely turned on. I tried to make excuses for it, telling myself it was just the fact that it had been a couple of weeks since I had gotten laid, but in the back of mind, I knew that was bullshit. I knew Quinn was running through my mind all the damn time, and that in itself was causing me to get a giant boner at the sound of my alarm. All in all, that wouldn’t be so bad, except I was waking up in my bed all alone, without Quinn there to take care of it for me.

  There was no getting around it: I thought Quinn was sexy as hell, and I wanted to feel her close to me. Just standing in the kitchen next to her made it hard for me to control myself, and as her back was turned, I reached down and adjusted my cock, trying desperately not to stare at her ass. She was wearing these cute little cotton shorts and a tank top to match. It wasn’t summer time, but I was assuming that was what she wore to bed. If I had it my way, she wouldn’t be wearing anything to bed, and I would be in there with her. As I moved my eyes down her back, over her tight ass, and down her legs, I noticed she was standing barefoot on the tile floors. I didn’t know what it was, but there was something so unbelievably hot about her standing there with no shoes on. Her toenails were painted a light pink, and every time she put something away she would rise up on her tiptoes. Needless to say, I could have stood there all day watching her unload the dishwasher.

  I looked away quickly as she turned with a plate in her hand. She walked around me, smiling as she opened up the cupboard and reached up high to put the plate on the shelf. Her tank top rose up, and I could see the line of her flat stomach, and the muscles in her shapely legs. I tapped my fingers on the granite countertops, trying to look away but failing miserably. I kept repeating to myself over and over again that I had to stop looking at her, I had to turn away, but it was no use. I was fighting my brain with my cock, and I could feel who was losing out. The best thing for me to do would be to turn around, walk away, and go to bed, but that seemed like an impossible choice at that moment. I leaned my head back and rested it on the cabinet, letting myself take in every inch of her as I looked her up and down. God, she was so fucking sexy.

  I didn’t know if it was the beer or the fact that I had held back from this woman for so long, but I was frozen, standing there staring at her incredible body. Her hair was down, and she had barely any makeup on, but she was still one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. I just wanted to reach out and put my hands on her ass, then bend her over the counter and fuck her brains out. It was no use: no matter how much I tried to look away, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I shook my head and pulled my hands down to my sides, feeling the lust in my chest trying to take over. I needed this so bad, and though I knew it was probably a bad idea, I didn’t give a damn. I wanted her, and I wanted her right then and there. I felt like all the self-control I had been mustering just flew out the window with one little pair of cotton shorts.

  I sidestepped to move away from her, but the damage had been done. I could smell her vanilla and lavender perfume from where I was standing, and it was acting like some sort of aphrodisiac. I wanted to grab onto her, and not let her get away from me, then slide my tongue all over her body. I felt completely pent up, my mind going one way while my cock went the other. I knew that control was quickly slipping from my fingertips, but the longer I stood there staring at her bare thighs, the less and less willpower I had to stop myself from jumping right in. If I fel
t that way then, I couldn’t imagine how I would feel in another week or month.

  “Do you want another beer? I can get it for you,” she said, looking over at me and smiling.

  “No, thank you,” I said, taking in a deep breath.

  She had broken the silence around us and descrambled the fight I was having internally. I thought at that moment I was in the clear, and that I could go back to focusing on controlling myself. However, as I looked over at her and ran my eyes down to her perky round breasts, I lost complete control over the situation. I took two steps forward, standing directly in front of her, so close that I could feel the heat of her breath. To my surprise, she didn’t move, but instead, slowly looked up until our eyes locked. The intensity of our stare took me by surprise and instantly my heart starting racing. I pulled my hands up to her shoulders and ran them up and down her arms, watching her face as her eyes began to darken. I continued to try and hold back, hoping that any moment I would come to my senses, but the conversation was lost at that point, and I was either going to go for it or end up jacking off by myself in the hallway bathroom.

  Finally, after several seconds of internal turmoil, I said, “Fuck it,” and leaned forward, pressing my lips hard against hers as I pulled her close to me by the shoulders. It was the perfect kiss, with a sensual nature but the force of a Hollywood, black and white film. She moaned softly into my lips, and I felt the vibrations in my face. Just knowing that she was feeling everything I was trying to convey made me even hotter, and I pulled her against my body, opening my mouth and slipping my tongue across her lips. She tasted amazing, just like before, and I knew at that moment, there was no way I was backing off.