The Flapper's Fake Fiancé

by Lauri Robinson

Leaning down, she whispered in his ear, “We don’t have to wait until we are married.”

  He tightened specific muscles against the heat throbbing in his loins. The past two days, he’d been focused on catching Burrows, but she’d never left his mind. Neither had the future they would have together. He glanced at his desk drawer, the one holding the single piece of jewelry he’d purchased this morning.

  He spun his chair around, grasped her by the waist, and planted her on his lap. “I never imagined that this would happen, Patsy, that I would fall in love again. You caught me off guard, and showed me how to live again. It’s like you saved my life.”

  She brushed his hair back with one hand. “You did save my life, Lane. And I’m not talking about tonight.” She grimaced slightly. “When you saved me from drowning.”

  That was just one of the things he loved about her. Her honesty.

  “You saved my life before then because you saved my dream. I would never have had the guts to truly become a reporter, not without your help,” she said seriously. “But it’s more than that. You believed in me. You made me believe in myself, you made me strong and...” She shrugged. “I can’t even explain it, other than to say you made me whole. Asking you to dance with me that night at the Rooster’s Nest was the best thing I ever did.”

  He rubbed the underside of her chin with one knuckle, knowing exactly how she felt, because she’d done all that to him. “I think that’s when it happened.”

  “When what happened?”

  “I fell in love with you.”

  She shook her head.

  He nodded. It had taken time for him to figure it all out, but like any good story, he eventually got to the bottom of it. “That’s why I never denied the rumor about us being engaged, and went along with your father’s plan. I was already in love with you. My heart knew that. It just took my head a bit longer to figure it out.”

  She giggled. “I couldn’t stop thinking of you that night, or any night since then. Or any day.”

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, either, and haven’t. You are on my mind day and night, and will continue to be.” He touched the side of her face. “I know I’m a few years older than you and—”

  “Age doesn’t have anything to do with love, Lane. We all love people who are older than us and younger.”

  She was right about that, like so many other things she’d made him understand. “Naomi would have liked you.” That had been something else he’d realized. “And she’d be happy that you made me live again.”

  A tear slipped out of the corner of one of her eyes. “She would have?”

  “Yes, she would have.” He held his breath, preparing for this moment. He was nervous. Because he loved her so much. “I have something to ask you.”

  “What?”

  He reached over and pulled open the drawer with one hand, while looking her straight in the eye. “Will you marry me, Patsy? Not because of rumors, or your father’s selection, but because I love you and I will love you for the rest of my life.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut as she nodded. “Yes, I will marry you.” Opening her eyes, she smiled big and brightly. “Any time. Any place. I’d marry you right now if I could.”

  He held his hand out, with the box sitting in his palm.

  “Lane,” she gasped.

  “Open it.”

  She did and gasped again. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “It’s a sapphire to match your eyes, but if you don’t like it, we can exchange it.”

  “I love it.”

  He took out the ring and slid it on her finger. “I love you, Patsy.”

  She pressed her lips to his before saying, “You make me so happy, Lane.”

  “You make me happy.” He kissed her forehead, and knowing he had to stop before he couldn’t, added, “I can give you a ride home now.”

  A teasing gleam appeared in her eyes as she lifted a hand to the bodice of her dress. His blood started pounding harder as she undid one button, then another.

  “Not, yet, Lane.”

  Her whisper was like an enchanted melody. The actions of her hands, unbuttoning more buttons, had him mesmerized.

  “It’s warm in here,” she whispered. “Don’t you think?”

  She was seducing him. He should stop her. A groan formed in the back of his throat, and the knowledge that he’d been trying to stop her from one thing or another since they’d met rolled around in his mind.

  He hadn’t been able to stop her then, and even if he could now, he didn’t want to.

  She shrugged the blue material of her dress over one shoulder, then the other, letting it fall away, exposing a silky, translucent white camisole. Her nipples were prominent little nubs.

  He brushed a thumb over one of them, watching as her lids fluttered shut. She arched her back, and he leaned down, licking the nub.

  Her fingers combed into his hair, as she arched against his mouth, wanting more. He took the entire nipple into his mouth, tasted it, suckled it. She urged him on, begged him to not stop.

  He slid his hand beneath the silk, pushed it up, out of the way, and then settled his mouth on her other nipple.

  Pleasure rippled through him, the ecstasy of their petting so intense he abandoned any thoughts of stopping.

  This, the sharing of their love, had been building between them for days, and neither of them would be satisfied until it was achieved. He lifted his head, found her mouth and kissed her while rising from the chair.

  Lane carried her across the room, with their mouths locked, their tongues teasing, tasting, enhancing the desires encompassing them. The leather couch in his office had been used as a bed before, on those nights when he’d been too tired to walk across the parking lot, but tonight would be the first time he’d used it for pleasure.

  Gently lowering her feet to the floor, he pushed the bunched-up dress over her hips, let it fall to the floor and then slid the camisole over her head. She was so beautiful, so delicate.

  With a throaty laugh, she pushed down the silky, short pants, and kicked them aside while boldly unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Life with you is such an adventure,” she whispered. “I can’t wait to experience this one.”

  He ran his hands down her sides, over the supple, warmth of her skin, her hips. “You are an adventure.”

  She pushed his shirt open, sliding her hands over his chest, down his stomach. Then giggling, whispered, “I like being an adventure.”

  “I love you, Patsy.”

  * * *

  Patsy knew at this moment, her world was completely full. Anything she’d ever want stood right before her, declaring his love. The reality of that made her eyes burn with sweet, joyous tears. There, naked before him, where nothing could be hidden, she declared, “I know you do, and I love you, Lane. So very much.”

  He kissed her gently, caressed her sweetly, and when the time came to lay her down, he softly whispered, “It might hurt at first.”

  His kindness was only one of the things she loved about this man. “I don’t care.” She didn’t. She wanted this union of their bodies, of their love, more than she’d wanted air to breathe while being submerged in the ocean this evening.

  He’d saved her life tonight, but truth was, he’d saved her before then. The very night they’d met, he’d saved her from the boring life of captivity she’d been attempting to escape from for years. With him, she’d discovered who she truly was. What she was truly capable of.

  Mostly, loving him.

  Her body hummed with anticipation as he laid her down on the sofa. Eager, thrilled to be alive, to be with him, she parted her legs as he settled himself above her. As he slid inside her, she gasped, not at the snap of pain, but with welcome. The freedom, the abandonment she’d loved experiencing while with him, was as alive and well inside her as all the other sensations he
was providing.

  He whispered his love for her in her ears, kissed her passionately and caressed her skin all while taking her on their greatest adventure to date. It was as if her very soul came to life and performed a wild and passionate dance, making her pant for air, as the music inside her sizzled.

  Just when she was sure she couldn’t experience anything greater, his magnificent, firm, lush body turned rock hard as he drove inside her firmly, and remained right there as her dance came to a brilliant crescendo.

  Afterward, as they lay there, arms and legs still entwined, breathing heavily, Patsy had to give credence to the joy bubbling inside her. “Now, that, Oliver, was one hell of a dance.”

  Hours later, as they ran across her backyard, Patsy twisted and pressed a finger to her lips due to the snap Lane had made by stepping on a stick.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m not as good at this as you.”

  “I told you that you didn’t have to walk me to the house.”

  “Yes, I do. I won’t sleep until I know you are safely inside.”

  She shook her head and hurried toward the trellis on the back of the house. There, she stopped and turned around, face up for him to kiss.

  He shook his head. “Up you go.”

  “You aren’t climbing up with me!”

  After glancing upward, to the second floor, he reached behind her and touched a wooden board of the trellis. He kissed her then, a quick peck. “No, I’m not. I’ll break those boards for sure. But I’m standing right here until you are in that window.”

  She was already certain that he would do just that. “I’ll be fine. Go home.”

  “I will. Once you are inside.” He shook his head, touching the boards again. “You know this is an accident waiting to hap—”

  She cut him off with a kiss. A long one that made her wish they were back in his office. Then, before he could protest again, she grabbed a hold of the trellis and scrambled up the wall with the skill of someone who had been doing it for a long time. Because she had been.

  After flipping in through the window, she turned around, leaned out of it and blew him a kiss.

  He acted as if he caught it, which made her smother a giggle. She pretended to catch the kiss he blew to her, and waited until he’d disappeared into the trees of the backyard before she left the bathroom and hurried down the hall to her room.

  There, tucked in her bed, she dreamed of the future, of being Mrs. Lane Cox.

  The smile that put on her face was still there when the sun woke her the following morning. She hummed a jaunty tune as she floated along the hallway and down the steps, and even paused to brush a kiss on her father’s cheek upon arriving in the dining room.

  “Good morning,” she nearly sang.

  “What’s good about it?” he grumbled. “The newspaper hasn’t arrived yet.”

  No longer intimidated by his gruffness, she planted her hand on her hips. Defending her soon-to-be husband, she said, “Lane had to write the feature article after he left here last night. I’m sure the paper will be delivered as soon as possible.”

  “Well, if a man can’t even produce his own newspaper in a timely manner, maybe he’s not fit for this family.”

  “Yes, he is,” she said. “You handpicked him, remember?”

  “I could always change my mind.”

  Two weeks ago, she would have been worried by that. This morning, she merely shrugged. “I won’t change mine.”

  Her mother walked into the room, carrying a cup and a pot of coffee. “Good morning, dear. Change your mind about what?”

  “Marrying Lane,” Patsy answered. Then, as long as they were on the subject, she said, “Mother, I truly don’t care about the how, when or where of my wedding. All I care is that it is Lane that I’m marrying, so how soon can we make that happen?”

  Still gruff, and frowning fiercely, Father said, “If you’re in such an all-fire hurry, why don’t you just elope?”

  “William!” Mother exclaimed. “Don’t say such things.”

  “That may be the grandest idea you’ve ever had, Father,” Patsy said, just as a knock sounded on the front door.

  “Who can be here at this time of the day?” Mother asked.

  “Probably the newspaper boy,” Patsy said as Father marched past her.

  It wasn’t the newspaper boy, but the owner himself. Patsy had to restrain herself from running across the room when Lane entered with her father.

  Forcing her legs to walk toward him, she asked, “What are you doing here so early?”

  He handed her a newspaper. She glanced at her father, who also had one. Taking the paper from Lane’s hand, she read the headline: Notorious Bootlegger behind Bars.

  Smiling up at him, she nodded. “I like that. Simple and to the point.”

  Lane pointed beneath the headline. “Read the byline.”

  Aloud, she read the tiny print, “By Lane Cox and Patsy Dryer.” It was such a tiny thing compared with all that had happened, but the fact that he’d included her name on the article made her love him even more. Without a care as to who was in the room with them, she looped her arms around Lane’s neck and kissed him.

  He kissed her back, too.

  Epilogue

  Oh, hurry up!

  Eyes closed, Patsy knelt at the altar as the priest droned on and on. Had she known it would take this long for her and Lane to become husband and wife, she’d never have agreed to the church wedding her mother insisted upon. She’d already waited a week.

  The longest week of her life.

  As if he’d heard every thought dancing around in her head, Lane laid a hand on top of hers. It had been a long week, but at least she’d spent hours with him during each one of those days, and as soon as the priest proclaimed them husband and wife, she’d be spending all twenty-four hours of every day with him.

  Please, Lord, he can say amen at any time now.

  Lane squeezed her hand again.

  Finally, the priest stopped and then, after she and Lane stood, and faced the congregation, he pronounced them husband and wife.

  Patsy wanted to jump for joy, but settled for releasing much of her happiness in a shared kiss before they walked down the aisle together, hand in hand.

  Mother had insisted upon coffee and cake being served after the ceremony, so that’s where they went, into the basement of the church, where they would need to stay for an hour.

  That’s where Patsy had drawn the line. She had agreed to everything else, including the long white wedding dress complete with a veil, but once the ceremony was done, she’d firmly insisted that she and Lane would remain at the church for one hour. No longer. Otherwise it would be dark before she got to show him her surprise.

  Dozens upon dozens of people were there, including the two FBI agents who had been with Lane the night Burrows had attempted to shanghai her and Victoria.

  After the men offered their congratulations, she turned to Lane. “Has there been any word on Henry?”

  Lane shook his head. “No, but the FBI won’t stop looking until they find him.”

  “Burrows still hasn’t told them what ship?”

  “No,” Lane answered. “He probably doesn’t even know. The thug who’d hauled Henry aboard didn’t know the name of the ship, or where it was headed.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry. Henry’s tough. He’ll be fine.”

  Their conversation ended as other guests approached. Patsy was cordial to all, but kept one eye on the clock, and precisely when one hour was up, they left the church, beneath a shower of rice being thrown as they ran to Lane’s car.

  “You certainly have been impatient today,” Lane said, laughing as they drove away.

  “I have a surprise for you,” she said.

  He glanced her way. “I have a surprise for you, too.”

  She hadn’t exp
ected that. “Where?”

  “At the Gazette building.”

  They would have to go there first, because once they got to her surprise, they wouldn’t be leaving. “Can we go there now?”

  “Yes, that’s what I’d planned.”

  She kissed his cheek, then laid her head on his shoulder. “Good.”

  The Gazette office was closed for the wedding, and as he unlocked the door, Lane said, “Close your eyes.”

  “Nothing is going to jump out and bite me, is it?” she joked.

  “No.”

  Eyes closed, she let him lead her into the building, and already familiar with the space, she knew they were in front of his office door when they stopped.

  “Open your eyes,” he said.

  She did, and pressed a hand to her mouth at the freshly painted door.

  Lane and Patsy Cox

  Proprietors

  Reporters

  Tears of joy filled her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “No, thank you,” he answered softly. “I not only got a wife, I got a business partner.” He kissed her. “A life partner.”

  Taking her hand, he led her back toward the outside door. “Tell me where we need to go so you can show me the surprise that’s been making you so impatient all day.”

  “Not impatient,” she insisted. “Just excited. But, I really, really love your surprise. That means so much to me. So very much.”

  “You mean so very much to me,” he said, kissing her as they arrived at the car.

  Once he was behind the wheel, she directed him where to go. As the drive took them closer to Hollywoodland, he asked, “Are we going to your father’s house?”

  “No, you’ll turn up there. It’s a gravel road on the right.”

  “I don’t remember a gravel road.”

  Anticipation was tickling her insides. The road had been overgrown due to not being used, but that was no longer the case. “It’s there. I’ll show it to you.”

  Having driven on the road several times over the past couple of days, she knew exactly where it was and pointed it out for Lane to turn on a short time later. He cast her a curious frown.