The Flapper's Fake Fiancé

by Lauri Robinson

  Her eyes closed of their own accord as his lips pressed more firmly against hers, and she moved closer, wanting to keep her lips against his. The connection, the magic, was so amazing, she felt an ecstasy she’d never known existed.

  Lost in the kiss, she wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but Lane ended the kiss as softly as he’d started it, and then pulled her up against his chest, holding her there. She could hear his heart, feel it beating beneath her cheek.

  Blissful, that’s what it was. Even though the storm continued to rage on, the thunder and lightning no longer startled her. She was surrounded by Lane’s arms. By his strength and warmth. The wonderful smell of his aftershave. Of him.

  Fully content, she snuggled in closer.

  “The article you wrote about Raymond’s party is in today’s paper,” he said.

  “It is?” she asked, even though at this moment her mind couldn’t focus on anything but him.

  “Yes, it is,” he said. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” She closed her eyes, but she was past being able to concentrate.

  * * *

  Lane leaned back against the cave wall, berating himself for being so weak. He’d blurted that out about her article because he was trying to get his mind off what he’d done. What he shouldn’t have done. He shouldn’t have kissed her. Nothing could take his mind off that, or how it had done exactly what he’d known it would—made him want more.

  He had to get control over himself, over the feelings encompassing him. She’d stirred up his insides since the first moment he’d seen her, in ways he’d never have believed possible. Not even talking about Naomi and Sarah had lessened the magnetism he felt toward Patsy.

  Yes, Patsy. He no longer thought of her as Libby. The name was of no consequence. She had a charm, an alluring charm, that sucked him in, and the mere idea of her being anywhere near Burrows made him shudder.

  She shifted slightly, and her slow, even breathing said she’d fallen asleep. He flattened his back against the wall and tightened his arms around her. That was the best thing that could happen. Her falling asleep. The rain didn’t show any sign of letting up, and stuck here, alone, was more of a temptation than he needed right now.

  He closed his eyes, tried to focus on what Henry had said about Gaynor, and Burrows. Tried to lay out a plan of where he’d go first to gather information that would help Henry bring a case against Burrows, but his body wouldn’t let his mind have control.

  Patsy’s warmth had his body fully aware and throbbing with needs he’d ignored for years. The thought of ever marrying again had never crossed his mind. If it had, in some odd and inconceivable way, he’d stifled it and buried it so deep it couldn’t dig its way out.

  He focused on doing that again, burying any thoughts of caring enough about someone he was willing to change his life. Marriage did that. Changed a person’s life. He didn’t need that again. Didn’t need change. He liked his life just as it was.

  But it wasn’t going to stay the way it was. As soon as the rain let up, he’d have to take her home, and tell Dryer about the rumor of their engagement.

  His heart clenched in his chest at that thought. He didn’t know how Dryer would respond, but knew how the man treated others, including people who worked for him. Very few contractors built a second house for Dryer. Most bought the land outright and then built their own houses to sell.

  City council members didn’t care for Dryer, either. He’d been removed and subsequently banned from attending meetings in the past.

  In fact, Lane couldn’t think of a single person who did like William Dryer.

  He couldn’t imagine having a man like that as a father. His father had been tough when he’d needed to be, but also caring. The exact kind of father Lane had hoped to be to Sarah.

  He rarely compared himself or his life with others, but at the moment, he had to wonder about justice. How Dryer had three daughters, whom he’d had since the day they were born, and how his own daughter, his own sweet baby, died long before her first birthday. It didn’t seem fair, but it was what it was, and all he could hope, was that deep down Dryer appreciated his good fortune when it came to his daughters.

  A soft moan had him looking down. The smile that appeared as she opened her eyes had to have been the sweetest one he’d ever seen.

  She covered a yawn with one hand and then shook her head. “Goodness, I think I dozed off.”

  “You did.” He released his hold on her. “The trek through the woods must have worn you out.”

  She sat up and smoothed her hair away from her face. “No. I didn’t sleep well last night.” Stretching her arms out in front of her, she said, “Looks like the rain is letting up.”

  Lane hadn’t noticed that, not until now. The dark clouds had moved on, giving way for the sun to peek through, and the rain was now simply falling straight down rather than being blown in all directions. “It is. It’s no longer thundering and lightning, either.”

  She rubbed her eyes and stifled another yawn. “Goodness. What time is it?”

  He glanced at his watch, and did a double take. Had they truly been here that long? “It’s four thirty.”

  Fear flashed in her eyes. “Four thirty? We have to go! Now!”

  He grasped her arm as she flipped onto her hands and knees to crawl to the opening. “It’s still raining.”

  “That doesn’t matter. We have to go.”

  “We can’t. We still have the rockiest part to climb down. It’s too dangerous in the rain. Those rocks will be slicker than grease.”

  “We’ll be careful, but we have to leave, Lane. We have to.”

  “Why are you suddenly in such a hurry?”

  “It’s getting late.”

  “Not that late. It won’t be dark for hours.” He wasn’t game on sitting here for all evening, but he didn’t want to see her slide to the bottom of the rocks, either. She could easily break an ankle, or worse.

  She sat back on her heels. “Dark isn’t the issue.”

  “Then what is?”

  “Everyone will be home by five, and if I’m not there...” She shook her head. “We have to leave. Now.”

  “Even if we left right now, we wouldn’t make it to your house by five.”

  She started to tremble, and rubbed her arms. “We wouldn’t?”

  “No, we wouldn’t.”

  All color drained from her face.

  He brushed a handful of damp tendrils away from her face. “We’ll leave as soon as the rain stops. You won’t be that late.”

  “You don’t understand.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I can’t be late at all.”

  Her demeanor was so downtrodden, he had to know what that meant. “Why? What will happen if you’re late?”

  Her hair flipped as she shook her head. “I just can’t be late. Just can’t. Please, can we leave now? We’ll just have to be careful on the rocks.”

  The rain had let up, a waterfall no longer cascaded over the outcropping’s opening, and although he still worried about the slickness of the rocks, it was apparent waiting any longer would only add to her distress.

  He picked up his suit coat. It was still wet, but would provide her protection from the elements. “Here, put this back on before we leave.”

  “Thank you, Lane,” she said, putting on the jacket. “Thank you.”

  He wasn’t nearly as eager to leave while it was still raining, and felt compelled to warn, “There could be mudslides. We have to be extra careful.”

  She nodded, then flipped on her hands and knees again.

  He grasped her wrist. “I’ll go first. You wait here until I say.”

  “Just hurry, please.” Impatient, she added, “We have to hurry.”

  On his hands and knees, he crawled past her. “We will, but we will also be careful.” Once he made it through the brush,
he stood, and tested the solidity of the ground before he pushed the branches aside to make an opening for her to crawl through. “It’s really muddy, so be careful.”

  She scrambled through the brush like a cat on a hot tin roof.

  He grasped her waist as she shot to her feet and nearly tumbled over. “I said be careful.”

  Holding onto his arms, she stabilized her footing. “Oh, my, the ground is slick.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Blinking at the rain hitting her face, she said, “It’s still raining.”

  “Yes, it is.” He could have easily said I told you so both times, but there was no sense in that. Her mind was made up to go home. So, home they would go. And hopefully not break a leg along the way.

  Holding her around the waist with one hand, he carefully picked their way downhill. The grassy spots were just as slick as the muddier sections. One misstep and they’d end up tumbling ass over teakettle all the way to the bottom of the hill.

  He usually wasn’t an overly sympathetic man, but her concern over getting home had softened something inside him. That was disturbing. So was the way he’d already started to care too much about her.

  He wouldn’t want any woman to take a tumble and get hurt, but there was more to it when it came to her. The fact she was so headstrong could be part of it. Left on her own, she was sure to end up injured in some way.

  “That stick I had earlier would come in handy right about now,” she said, using the branches on bushes to aid her as the slope grew steeper.

  He stopped shy of explaining how dangerous a stick like that could be if she stumbled in this rain, but he was nobody’s fool. She’d take it as an insult, and that would get him nowhere. Furthermore, she was wet, and cold. He simply needed to get her home and then run as far away from her as he could possibly get. Worrying about her, protecting her, kissing her were all things he didn’t need to be thinking about right now. Or ever.

  “You can stay here,” she said. “I can make it down by myself.”

  Lane huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think so.”

  She pinched her lips together and kept trudging along beside him.

  He should have kept his mouth shut and not responded to that comment, either. They both needed to concentrate on their steps.

  “I could make it down the hill alone,” she finally said, although there was a hint of sorrow in her voice rather than determination.

  “I’m sure you could, but I’m the reason you’re out here, and I’ll see you get down safely.”

  “You aren’t the reason.”

  He wasn’t going to argue the point.

  Thankfully, a few steps later, they were off the steepest section. Now it was just thick brush to get through before they’d finally arrive at the road. Then he would walk her home, and explain why she was late for supper.

  That had to be the reason she needed to be home, for supper. And her father was the reason she’d looked so scared. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. Dryer couldn’t be that different when it came to his family. People didn’t refer to him as “the Land Baron” for no reason. He was as haughty and coldhearted as they came. A baron was the lowest ranking in the line of nobility, yet, often, thought of themselves as the highest. That description fit Dryer to the core. His land wasn’t worth any more than other acreage in the area, except for the fact that Dryer had advertised it as the closest thing to paradise in the state. That had worked for him. It stroked the already high egos of many, and continued to do so. Hollywoodland was already known as a neighborhood for the elite—because those were the only people Dryer would sell to.

  Lane wasn’t looking forward to seeing Dryer. He’d had to defend himself, his actions, to a woman’s family before. Naomi’s. And had sworn to never put himself in that position again.

  Chapter Eleven

  The rain was little more than a drizzle, besides the droplets falling off the branches overhead when they left the taller trees and began walking through the brush lining the roadway. Patsy had barely said a word the last half hour or more. Lane knew why. They were getting closer to her home, and he could tell her fears were mounting with every step.

  He waited until they were on the road before he turned to look at her. The droplets on her cheeks were not rain. They were tears.

  His throat thickened at the compassion filling him. How? Why had he let her touch him so deeply? In a place that hadn’t been touched in a very long time. He liked his solitary life, had found peace in it and didn’t want that to change.

  “Goodbye, Lane.” In a flash, she was running up the road.

  He had only a split second to decide if he was going to accept the changes that had happened in his life or not.

  Accept them?

  He didn’t have a choice. She’d already changed his life.

  Whether he liked that or not, he was the reason she’d trekked up the hill today, and he had to take responsibility for that.

  He ran, caught up to her in no time and snagged her around the waist with one arm, knowing that was the only way to slow her down.

  Her legs flayed near his ankles as she pleaded, “Put me down! I have to get home!”

  He set her feet down on the ground, but kept a hold of her waist. “I know, and I’m going with you.”

  * * *

  Patsy had been scared, worried and frightened about going home. Now, in this very instant, she was petrified. “You can’t!”

  “Yes, I can, and I am.”

  She dug her heels into the gravel as he tried to urge her forward. “No. No. No!”

  “I’ll explain why you were late for supper.”

  The tears that had been slipping out of her eyes fell faster. “It’s not that.” She pressed the back of one hand against her nose as she sniffled. Anyone else, she might be able to lie to, and they’d believe her, but not him. He sought the truth. Not just for his stories, for his newspaper, but in life. It was imbedded in him. A part of who he was. She had no choice but to provide it, and hope that would make him leave. “You can’t walk me home. Can’t explain where we’ve been.”

  “Yes, I can. I won’t let out the details of our meeting with Henry, but—”

  “No!” Patsy swallowed against the fire in her throat. “We—my sisters and I—aren’t allowed to be in the company of men, at anytime, anywhere. Not until we’re engaged. You’ll ruin everything if you walk me home.”

  Lane frowned slightly while keeping his gaze on her, as if reading her mind, getting to the very bottom of her words.

  “By ruin everything you mean the fact you and your sisters dress up as flappers and sneak out to go to speakeasies every night.”

  He’d read her mind all right, and got to the very bottom of things. She didn’t nod, or shake her head. There was no point. He knew. The air in her lungs was so heavy it hurt as she huffed it out.

  “How long did you think you could get away with it?”

  She and her sisters hadn’t set a timeline. They just loved the freedom, and didn’t want it to change. It had been the only time in their lives that they’d had any amount of control, of liberty. She didn’t want to be the catalyst that changed it all, either. “It’s more than that, Lane.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. It was all she could muster. The implication of what had happened today was why. If her father ever learned that she and Lane had kissed. More than once.

  He averted his gaze and shook his head. “I know there’s more to it, Patsy.”

  He was thinking about the kiss, too. She was sure of it. And regretting it. Rightfully so.

  Putting pressure on her back, he coaxed her forward, one step at a time. Her legs felt as if they weighed a hundred pounds each. The dread inside her weighed even more. Her father was going to be furious, but it was her sisters she was thinking about. She’d let them down. She’d promised that she wouldn’t let
her dates with Lane ruin everything, yet that’s exactly what had happened.

  By the time her house came into sight, she was trembling from head to toe and her stomach was churning so hard and fast bile burned the back of her throat. If it had just been her, she’d have snuck in through the backyard, but it wasn’t just her. Or even her and her sisters. Lane was with her, and he was marching them straight to the front door framed with the big white pillars that stretched to the second floor.

  The floor that she’d be locked in the rest of her life.

  No. She wouldn’t be locked up there.

  She’d be sent away.

  Trepidation sent shivers through her entire system. Her father had made grown men cry before with his yelling and berating, and threats of ruining their lives. Unable to go any farther, she stopped and willed her shaking legs to keep her upright.

  Holding back renewed tears with all she had, she whispered, “Leave now, please, Lane. Don’t come any farther.”

  “I can’t leave, Patsy.” He tightened the hold around her waist. “Let’s go.”

  “You have to leave. The only men allowed—” Her protest was interrupted by a familiar booming voice that split the air.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  Patsy nearly slumped to the ground at the sound of her father’s voice, would have if Lane hadn’t been holding her up, and she may have ran in the opposite direction at the sight of her father storming his way out the front door and down the steps if Lane hadn’t forced her to move forward.

  He legs weighed a thousand pounds now, and her mouth was dry. Her thoughts a jumbled mess of regrets and fear.

  “Hello, William,” Lane said.

  Even filled with desperation, Patsy was shocked by how calm and casual Lane sounded, as if he and her father were merely running into one another on a busy street corner.

  “Who the—” Her father paused in his steps and speech. Leveling a glowering frown, he shook his head as if seeing things. “Lane Cox? What are you doing here?” Father’s gaze turned to her.