Fake Bride With Benefits

by Riley Rollins

  Hired construction workers and kitchen consultants keep coming in and out of the store, but when we get a brief respite, I grab two Yoohoo chocolate drinks from the fridge, one for me and one for Tess. I lean against one of the tables we just took delivery on, sipping my Yoohoo. Tess sits on a matching chair, gulping her drink and fanning herself with a rolled-up magazine. Summer is just starting to kick in, and we still don't have the HVAC system installed.

  I love how she looks when she's all sweaty. Reminds me of back in the day when I was the one who made her get that way. The outline of her bra shows through her damp white t-shirt, and the base of my cock tingles every time I take a peek at that beautiful cleavage.

  In walks a woman pushing a baby stroller.

  "Meg!" exclaims Tess. She bounds up from her chair and kisses the woman on the cheek. "It's so good to see you and Jack." Meg bends over and peeks at the baby boy in the stroller. "Sorry it's so hot in here. The AC installers are coming tomorrow."

  "That's fine," says Meg. "I just had to stop by to see the happy couple in their new restaurant." She looks at me and winks, and I notice her eyes wander down my body all the way to my package. Meg's a beautiful woman, and not half hard on the eyes, but standing next to Tess, it's like I hardly notice her. I have to consciously tear my eyes off Tess just to give Meg a polite smile and a nod.

  "That's right," I say, playing along. "Marriage is everything I hoped for and more." Better safe than sorry.

  Tess rolls her eyes. "This is my best friend, Hunter. You don't have to pretend around her."

  I scratch my head. "She knows?"

  Both Tess and Meg laugh. "I know," says Meg.

  "Ah," I say. "Well then, I'll have you know, this marriage is off to an unusual start."

  Meg laughs. "What do you mean?"

  "Been trying to consummate the marriage, but my wife isn't having any of it."

  Meg cocks an eyebrow and looks at Tess. "Really?"

  "Really what?" says Tess.

  "You haven't… you know?"

  Tess's face turns bright red.

  "I thought we talked about this!" says Meg.

  I grin. "You did?"

  Meg gives me a mischievous little smile. "I've been trying to get this girl to loosen up and have a little fun for so long now. All work and no play makes a dull girl."

  I nod my head, laughing, but my cock stiffens inside my pants at just the topic of this conversation. "See? You should've listened to me."

  Tess reddens like a damn beet in the sun. Then the damn baby in the stroller starts cooing, and gives her an excuse to change the topic.

  "Jack's getting so big," says Tess.

  Meg smiles. "Almost ten months now."

  "Can I hold him?"

  "Of course, Aunt Tess."

  I wipe my forehead on my shirt sleeve and take a swig of my cold Yoohoo. I'm sweating bullets in this damn shop. "Can I get you one?" I say to Meg.

  She smiles wistfully and pats her stomach through her shirt. "Thanks, but there's already enough eye candy in the room."

  I grin. I hope that Meg's attitude rubs off on Tess.

  Tess lifts the baby to her shoulder and pats it on the back. She casts a sideways glance at me and rolls her eyes, but I don't miss how she checks me out.

  "That eye candy?" says Tess.

  "Um, yeah," says Meg. She reaches into the stroller and pulls out a baby bottle which she hands to Tess. "It's so obvious that you two want to jump each other's bones. Just do it already."

  I can't help chuckling. "Ready any time she is," I say.

  Meg interrupts me. "But you're still leaving town when this is done."

  "Yeah." I feel a tickle in my throat and I cough.

  "Tess may be an idiot for not jumping your bones, but you're a damn idiot for not making this girl your real wife."

  Now it's my turn to be uncomfortable. "I'm… not looking to get tied down."

  Tess seems to be in her own little world, oohing and aahing at the cooing baby. She seems to be tuning out me and Meg talking. She looks like such a damn mom.

  "Everyone thought you two would end up together," says Meg. "You leave her for a second time, and that might be a mistake you regret for the rest of your life."

  "Look," I say, lowering my voice to one notch above a growl. "I'm putting my plans on hold to help her out with this, and she's got baggage from her divorce. You're damn right that I want that girl's body, but getting together ain't the right move for either one of us."

  Meg purses her lips. "You should think about what I said."

  Before I can respond, Tess turns to me and tries to thrust a baby into my arms.

  "Whoa," I say. I put my hands up in surrender, something I'm not fucking used to doing. "I'm not good with babies."

  "Go on," says Meg. "You have my permission."

  I scoot backwards, pushing the table back about six inches. The metal legs screech against the bare concrete floor. "Really, I'm good."

  Tess laughs at me. "He's just a little baby. What're you scared of, soldier boy?"

  "First," I say, "Navy SEALs are sailors, not soldiers. Second, babies do scare the shit out of me."

  "Seriously?" says Tess. "Take him." She practically shoves the baby into my arms. I seize up as soon as he's in my arms, and I have a horrible fucking vision of tripping and dropping him. Normally I'm confident I can do anything, but this is one thing that truly scares the living shit out of me.

  "That's right," I say, trying to keep the squirming baby from escaping my grip and plopping onto the rock-hard floor. "I'm a sailor, and my main function is to kill everything in sight. So yes, you should keep babies as far away from me as fucking possible."

  "You're doing fine," says Meg. She steps toward me and tucks the blanket around the baby in my arms. "See? He's not crying. He likes you. But watch your mouth."

  "But he's just a tiny baby," I say. "He can't speak English."

  Meg and Tess both scowl at me. "Babies can understand more," says Tess—

  "—than you think," says Meg.

  "Well, shit," I say, and I almost clap a hand over my mouth, but thankfully I stop myself before I drop the baby all over the floor like a sack of rocks. "See, I'd be a horrible parent."

  "I don't think you would," says Tess softly.

  I finally manage to offload the baby back to its mother, and we spend the next ten or fifteen minutes shooting the shit and sweating our balls off in the muggy restaurant. Soon, Meg decides she should get her and her baby out of the construction zone, leaving just me and Tess. Tess hoists herself up and sits on the table next to me, and she puts her hand on my thigh.

  My cock instantly springs to attention.

  "Thank you for being a good sport."

  "Getting pretty decent at acting for this whole fake marriage thing, so why not."

  She laughs. "Do you… do you think you'd ever want a baby?"

  I stiffen up like a puppet with a wire up its spine. "It's not in my plans. Fake marriage, maybe, but a baby is too fucking real."

  "Oh," says Tess," I didn't necessarily mean with me."

  I cock an eyebrow. It may have freaked me the fuck out when she asked about a baby, but for some strange damn reason, I don't like when she backtracks either. This woman just fucks with my mind for some reason. "I see."

  She's about to finish off the last of her Yoohoo when she sees that I'm rolling an empty bottle between my hands. She holds her bottle toward me. "You want to finish mine?"

  "No, I don't want your backwash."

  She giggles but then becomes serious again. "No, a baby wouldn't go together with my professional goals." She seems to be staring off into the distance.

  I can tell she's still thinking, so I don't say anything.

  "I never used to think I'd want one. But now that I'm almost 30, I'm not sure anymore."

  I shift in my seat, and I realize that Tess's hand is still on my leg. I wonder if she's aware of it or if she's just spacing out.

  Just like she's readi
ng my mind, she takes her hand away and grabs her smartphone out of her pocket. What a huge piece of shit. I still have my flip-phone from high school, and if it were up to me, I wouldn't even have that. Me and technology don't get along.

  She flips through some baby pictures on Meg's Facebook, exclaiming how cute her baby is.

  "Anyway," she says, "if I ever got married—you know, real married—I'd want my husband to want kids."

  "Well," I say, "good thing it's a fake marriage, then." I try to keep my cool and not let my voice betray how flustered I am, but I can't lie. Some fucked up part of me keeps thinking about how much of a mom Tess looks like, and for some fucked up reason beyond my comprehension, that's turning me on even more than the idea of a no-strings-attached fuck with her.

  I must be fucked in the head.

  Later that afternoon, I interview a kid to help us at the shop. Tess and I talked it over, and we decided that two people is enough to run the shop. But with me leaving, she'll need someone to hit the ground running when I'm gone.

  His name is Jason, and he responded to a Craigslist ad that Tess posted, whatever the fuck that is. I wait for him in the restaurant, and when a skinny, scrawny looking teenager comes and cups his hands against the window, I know it's gotta be Jason.

  I cross the room and open the door with a jingle. "You're late," I say gruffly.

  "Ah, geez," says the kid, and he looks down at a big square watch on his wrist. "Yeah, I see it's 4:02, and—"

  "Is that a calculator watch?" I ask.

  He breaks into a goofy grin that's really kind of endearing, but I maintain a straight face. "You bet it is."

  My eyes narrow. "What kind of hipster scum are you?"

  "Ah, I'm—"

  "Sit at that table," I say, pointing toward the table Tess and I were sitting at earlier. I arranged it so there's a chair on either side like an interrogation chamber.

  Jason does as he's told, and I sit opposite to him. I'm not just going to give any old slob a position where Tess relies on them. I'm going to get someone fucking dependable, someone confident and competent. Frankly, someone like me. And this scrawny-ass kid is the exact damn opposite of me. I'm just going to give him his interview as promised, and then kick his hipster ass on out the door.

  "So," I say, moving my pen down my list of interview questions that Tess typed up for me, "First question I have here, is 'Why were you late?'"

  "Sorry. I drove in from Springville. I had to find the place."

  I cock an eyebrow. "You came from Springville to apply for a job in Maple Ridge?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "What's the matter with you, kid? Why would you come to a backwater town like this to get a damn job?"

  "Because of the rainbow bagel."

  "Say fucking what?"

  "Listen," says Jason, leaning in and folding his arms on the table. "I've been trading stocks since I was 14. I dropped out of college to run my own PC-building business online. I'm a businessman. And I know a good opportunity when I see one."

  "You came all the way from Springville because you wanted to work for a rainbow bagel shop?"

  "That's right," says Jason, and for the first time, I detect a hint of myself in him. "I want in on the ground floor."

  "Well, I say, putting my pen down and leaning back in my chair. "That was unexpected."

  "I know I was two minutes late, but I won't let you down if you give me the job."

  I grumble to myself. Two minutes late is practically a felony in the SEALs, and my tolerance for tardiness is real damn low. But even I have to go a bit easy on the kid. Two minutes is only two minutes, and this sure seems more interesting than the other loser high school kid potheads who responded to the ad.

  "What do you know about responsibility?"

  "I paid my way through college with my own capital and investments. Until I dropped out, because I saw a better opportunity. And it was worth it."

  "It was?"

  "I did $100,000 in sales last year."

  Okay, so the kid knows business.

  "Why would you give that up now?"

  "Because rainbow bagels are going to be huge."

  "Enlighten me. I'm just helping out my… wife. But I've been told these are huge with millennials."

  "They're huge on social media. Always trending. People love a new twist on a classic, and there's not another bagel shop within 50 miles of here. It's a smart business move."

  "Okay," I say, "so say I give you a chance at this. You look like you know computers and business, but do you know people?" I look at his clothes: a graphic t-shirt and cargo shorts, and hair that hasn't been cut in way too long. "You've gotta be presentable."

  "I, uh," he stumbles. "Dealing with people isn't exactly my strong suit."

  "Food service is a people business."

  "Look," he says, "Just give me a month to prove myself. I'll show you I'm the right person for the job."

  For some dumbass reason I say yes, right on the spot.

  "Alright, you little tyke," I say after a pause. "I don't have a better option, so let's see what you're made of."

  He grins. "You won't be sorry." He sticks out a greasy palm for a handshake, and I eye it warily. I look him in the eye. "Let's get you some new clothes and a damn haircut."

  11

  Tess

  "So we need a jigsaw for the wood shelving, a new set of drill bits, five tubes of caulk, and… what am I forgetting?" I say. I sit in the passenger seat of my car while Hunter drives. I don't normally let anyone else drive my car, but right now I'm just fried from all the work and the heat. The HVAC people didn't show up for our appointment, so the shop still doesn't have any AC. Even though summer is about to kick in full strength, and even though the shop opens in just five days.

  "And a couple of spicy Italian sausages from the hot dog cart," says Hunter. "I'm fucking starving."

  I collapse back into the seat and stick my head out the window like a panting dog. First thing I'm going to do when I start making a profit is fix the AC in my car. There's just no break from the heat.

  When we get to Home Depot, Hunter heads straight for the hot dog cart and I follow him. He gets two spicy sausages with ketchup, relish, and sauerkraut. I get one regular jumbo dog with just ketchup and mustard.

  We sit on the bench outside to eat and people-watch. It's a Saturday here in Springville, and all the young couples are out and about, getting supplies and upgrades for their houses. It makes me happy to watch them. Hopefully someday, I'll have a house of my own. And maybe even a real husband.

  Next to me, Hunter scarfs down half a sausage in one bite, and he gets a smudge of ketchup on his face. His striking, angular, handsome face. I giggle. "Come here," I say, and I dab at the spot with one of my cocktail napkins, but I can't get all the ketchup out. "You'll need to wash that out," I say with a giggle.

  He shrugs and puts down the second half of his sausage in one more monster, manly bite. "Whatever. Not like I'm trying to impress a woman right now."

  "You know, you can do whatever you want," I say. The pit of my stomach burns. I know that what I'm saying is true, and it shouldn't bother me, but it does. I see the way other women look at Hunter in public, and I like them thinking he's mine. But soon, Hunter's going to be gone for good, and once again I won't have a man in my life.

  Which is fine. I mean, that's the best thing for me right now. And that's why I haven't just done it with Hunter like Meg keeps telling me to.

  It would be so easy and it would feel so damn good. No man has ever gotten me off like Hunter has, and every night I lie in my bed, I imagine him sleeping on the floor just one room over. It would be so easy to get out of bed, invite him in to my bedroom, and let him fill me up the way I know he wants me to.

  The way I want him to.

  But I'm afraid that if I do, it's going to hurt when he leaves. So I've made do with my vibrator in the shower. That's the only time I can be sure he won't hear me.

  We finish our hot dogs and enter
the store. We grab all the small stuff first, and then go to the saw section. There's a Black and Decker, and a Stanley, and some off-brand Chinese saws. "I'm going for the Black and Decker," I say. "I like buying American."

  The saw I want rests on a high shelf above the display units, so I reach up on my tip-toes to pull one down. But the box is much heavier than I expect, and I yelp and jump back as I realize the box is about to fall on my head.

  I bump into Hunter as I back up, and my ass presses into him. His cock is hard, pushing against me like one of the steel tools hanging on the shelf. His hands shoot up over my shoulders, and he catches the box above my head before it lands on me.

  He sets it down as I turn around to face him.

  "Hunter, I…" I smell his scent, and even though it's mixed with the smell of sausages, I don't mind. I like the smell of sausages as long as they're on him.

  I can't seem to focus on anything except his lips, and his eyes drop down to mine.

  We both press closer to one another, and before I put a stop to this crazy decision, our lips touch. It's like the time we posed for a kiss in front of the statue, but this time it's completely organic, completely natural, and it's fucking hot as hell.

  Hunter's tongue lashes over mine, sweeping over my lips and teasing my tongue. I let him inside, and my hands move over his shoulder, down his biceps, and I lean further into him.

  His lips spark on mine like cinnamon fire, and tingles of pleasure shoot through my body.

  When the kiss finally breaks, I awkwardly look off to the side, brushing the back of my hand against my lips, and Hunter coughs.

  "That was, uh…" My voice trails off.

  "That was a mistake."

  I look back up at him. "Do you want to make it again?"

  He undresses me with his eyes, and they smolder like beautiful ashes.

  Our lips crash together again, and I can hear people talking and carts moving around us, but I don't give a damn. And neither does Hunter, because I feel his hands explore my back, my hips, and finally he slips one hand into my back pocket, cupping the curves of my ass in his palm.