We ordered more pasta and pizza and spent the evening talking about our college experiences and laughing as we shared embarrassing stuff we’d done as kids.
This was a dream date if there ever was one, and I didn’t want the night to end.
It seemed Denton felt the same way—he asked if I wanted dessert, then coffee. Later, as we thanked Michael for a wonderful dinner and stepped outside, he asked if we could take a stroll down the street.
“It’s pretty chilly out,” I said, pulling my coat closer.
“Just for a few minutes, Tiffany.”
He wrapped his arm around me as we walked past shops and restaurants, shielding me from the cold by keeping me close to his body. Unable to help myself, I snuggled even closer.
“Why did you ask me out, Denton?” I asked softly, glancing up at him. “I mean, what’s the purpose of tonight’s date?”
“I said I wanted to build our relationship, didn’t I? I’ll tell you a little secret, though—this was the best first date I’ve ever been on.”
“Only because it’s technically not our first,” I said teasingly.
“It’s our first date as two honest, single people. No fake proposals. No contracts. Just two available people who are wildly attracted to each other.”
I stopped walking. “You’re wildly attracted to me?” Not that it was a competition or anything, but I’d always assumed my attraction to him was a lot stronger.
“Hell, yes.” His gaze fell to my slightly protruding belly. “And I don’t know what it is about being pregnant, but you look so unbelievably hot tonight.” He raised a hand and hovered it over my belly. “May I?”
“Go ahead.” I smiled reassuringly.
His touch was soft but firm as he learned the small curves and dips that held his baby. His other hand slipped into my coat, pausing at the rising swell of my ass.
“All I want to do right this minute is bury my face between your legs,” he whispered, his focus on my eyes looking a little unsteady.
My own breathing grew unsteady. “That’s not something you normally say to a woman on the first date.”
“No, it isn’t. Then again, what we have isn’t exactly normal, is it?”
I shook my head, leaning in. “No.”
Our lips met in a gentle kiss as we stood on the sidewalk, busy New Yorkers walking around us in the background. When our kiss deepened and grew more passionate, a man yelled something at us angrily.
“What did he say?” I breathed, pulling back.
“I think he said we should go get a room.” Denton raised a cocky brow. “He’s not entirely wrong.”
“I don’t sleep with a guy on the first date,” I said, going for a prim tone. “One kiss, and that’s it for tonight.”
Denton looked disappointed as we walked back to the car. Later, when he dropped me off in front of the building, we shared another intimate kiss before reluctantly parting ways.
I stepped into the condo to find Mom and Rach sprawled in front of the TV. They were in their pajamas and watching the latest season of Criminal Minds.
“How was the date?” Rach asked, looking up from her bag of potato crisps.
I shrugged, hiding how I truly felt. “It was okay. We had pasta and pizza.”
“Did you have fun?” Mom’s curious eyes landed on me, searching.
I had so much fun, I felt like I was falling in love with Denton all over again.
But I didn’t say that. Instead, I smiled. “We had a good time, all three of us.”
Twenty-Two
My new relationship with Denton grew slowly. He took me out to dinner several more times, and we always stopped short of groping each other on the sidewalk before parting for the night. It was pretty obvious that we were dying to fuck each other, but we were taking our relationship a lot more seriously this time.
I was fine with that.
Mom’s little boutique was doing far better than we’d expected, especially for a new business. Her clientele and connections from her previous job gave things a boost, and word of mouth began to spread. I suspected Ernest also had a hand in Mom’s success, since spouses of his affluent acquaintances and friends dropped in occasionally to buy an expensive outfit or two. Or sometimes five.
It definitely kept Mom and her assistants busy, to the point where I also had to lend a helping hand some weekends.
“You know, I really want to quit my job,” Rach blurted out one Sunday morning, sitting at the breakfast table.
I put my toast down on my plate. “Why? You like teaching kids.”
“I used to like teaching,” she amended. “But my job’s going nowhere. Honestly, I’m feeling pretty disillusioned lately.”
Rach hadn’t said much about it, but her moodiness had been building ever since we moved into the condominium. For starters, her relationship with Dylan was starting to fizzle. Apparently, he’d called her a spoiled princess as soon as he saw where she now lived.
“Why don’t you take some time off?” I suggested. “Maybe you could work part time at the boutique and think about what you really want to do. Or I could quit work and we could be two unemployed bums living together.”
She winced. “You have an excuse—you’re pregnant. Besides…” Her face turned pale. “Dylan said I had to stop mooching off you.”
“What!” The nerve of the guy! “He had no right to say that to you. Maybe he lashed out because he was scared of losing you, Rach.”
“I-I don’t think he’s completely wrong, though.” She hugged herself, avoiding my eyes. “I mean, you bought me a new car. Our European trip was mostly funded by you. I’m living on Park Avenue for fucking free. And here you are, saying it’s okay for me to bum around and live off your generosity. It doesn’t make me feel good, Tiff. If anything, it makes me feel pretty useless.”
This was even worse than I’d anticipated. “Hey, look at me.” When Rach stared back, her gaze gloomy, I reached for her hand. “Do you remember all those times when you had to pay for my food because you had a steady job and all I had was that low-paying position at Morning Brew? And when I left the penthouse, you let me stay at your place for free, even though I had money in my bank account. And what’s more, you always looked out for me.” I smiled at her fondly. “You’re like family to me, Rach. What’s mine is yours. And I hope that what’s yours is also mine, because I’ve been eyeing some of the sexy lingerie you bought recently.”
She rolled her eyes, looking a little more cheery than before. “Good thing I haven’t worn any of them yet. Sure, take your pick. I recommend the black or the purple one.”
“Maybe I’ll take both.” I squeezed her hand. “Don’t even think about leaving, Rach. I mean it.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“And if Dylan ever tries to make you feel bad again, dump his useless ass.”
Rach sighed. “It would be a shame, though. He really is cute.”
“Cute or not, he sounds like an asshole,” I muttered under my breath. If he ever hurt her again, he would have to deal with me.
After finishing breakfast, we decided to visit my mom at the boutique. The store closed on Sundays, but she was such a workaholic that she spent the days taking inventory of new stock arrivals and making sure her clienteles’ orders were up to date. Seriously, she needed a break.
“Guess who dropped by this morning.” I’d finally talked Mom into sitting down for coffee, and she sipped the steaming brew and waited for me to guess.
“I don’t know. Ernest?”
Mom shook her head. “It was Andy. He came with a bunch of marigolds and said he was sorry for not coming over on Christmas.” She sighed wistfully. “He’s such a nice boy.”
“Nice boy?” Rach repeated, laughing. “Didn’t Tiff tell you how he cruelly dumped her via text?”
Mom frowned. “I do remember that. But it seems so unlikely.”
I sighed, exhausted by the thought of Andy. “Mom, don’t go encouraging him, okay? Andy only wants me back because
he took one look at Denton and realized I’d found the perfect man. And it kills him that I found someone so quickly after he dumped me.” I exchanged glances with Rach. “This is about his wounded pride. That’s why he keeps pursuing me even though I’m having another man’s baby.”
Mom shot me an admonishing glance. “He didn’t even talk about you once. All he did was ask how I was doing, congratulate me on the boutique, and apologize for not coming on Christmas.” Her lips thinned. “Don’t always think the worst of people, Tiffany. I didn’t raise you to be so cynical and mean-spirited.”
Okay, so maybe she was right. I was pretty cynical when it came to Andy. But didn’t I have my reasons? And hadn’t he treated me like shit up until Denton came along?
But I said none of these things. Instead, I mumbled an apology and left it at that.
Rach, on the other hand, was on my side. “You have every right to distrust Andy,” she muttered once Mom left to take a phone call. “I love Ms. L, I really do. But regarding this matter, she has no clue what she’s talking about.”
“She’s too nice, that’s all.” I shrugged. “Anyway, we should probably let her get back to work. Mom!” I shouted. “We’re leaving now. Thanks for the coffee and juice.”
“I’ll see you both at home!” she called out, then quickly returned to her call.
Right before we left, I glanced over my shoulder. I had no sane explanation for this, but something told me Mom was talking to Andy on the phone.
Twenty-Three
For our next date, Denton invited me over to the penthouse for dinner.
This made me hesitate—the penthouse was where we had fucked then made love during our fake marriage. What if we fell under that spell again, surrounded by all those memories? What then?
“Sure, that sounds nice,” I choked out, unable to come up with an excuse. “Maybe you can show me the nursery while I’m there too.”
“Great! I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something comfortable.” Then he hung up before I could change my mind.
I slipped into gray slacks and a hoodie top, the most unsexy clothes I could think of. Then I wiped my face clean and applied a thin layer of lip gloss.
Done. I looked unsexy as hell. There was no chance of us going anywhere near a bed when I looked like this.
But when Denton came to pick me up, his response wasn’t quite what I’d expected.
His eyes softened as he took in my casual attire. “It’s perfect.”
“Really?”
“Remember when we stayed in and watched movies? We’re doing that tonight.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” I wanted to back away, but he smiled and pulled me outside.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
It really was too late to back out now, so with a sigh of resignation, I let him lead me downstairs and take me to his penthouse.
When we entered the foyer together, emotions hit me like the colors in a swirly lollipop, only bittersweet. Nothing had changed. It was like time had frozen and we were right back where we started.
That can’t be a good thing.
Denton’s housekeeper had prepared a small buffet-like spread with pizza, popcorn, hot dogs, and various types of candies—just like a snack bar at the movies.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, grabbing an empty plate.
“I’m always hungry. I’ll have the pizza and hot dogs, please.”
I settled on the couch and bit into a hot dog as Denton chose Sleepless in Seattle on the large LCD screen. I paused mid-chew.
“It’s your favorite movie, isn’t it?” he asked, noticing my wary expression.
“Yeah, but I thought we’d be watching Asian action flicks.”
“Too gory and violent and completely unsuitable for a pregnant woman. So we’re going to watch all your favorites tonight.”
In other words, romantic comedies. I didn’t know whether to be pleased or suspicious.
Sometime during the movie, I was brushing bread crumbs from my belly when Denton snorted loudly.
“Remember when I proposed to you on the Empire State Building?”
“Of course, how could I ever forget your imaginary proposal for our fake marriage?” I played along. “You were on bended knee, wearing a tuxedo. You told me that you would give me the world, right before you proposed.”
His gaze was steady. “Is that the sort of thing you dream about? Perfect love, perfect proposals?”
I shrugged and took a large bite of my pizza. “Those are just icing on the cake. What I want is someone who can’t live without me, who makes me his first choice.”
Denton fell quiet as we returned to the movie, and he stayed that way until Sleepless in Seattle ended and the credits rolled up.
“God, I love Meg Ryan,” I said, yawning. “She was so cute in that movie.”
“You’re pretty cute too.” His tone had changed to low and serious.
Startled, I glanced at him. Big mistake. His eyes had that I-want-to-fuck-you look I’d grown quite familiar with.
“Denton…”
He leaned over and kissed me, his tongue teasing my mouth open. I cupped his face, leaning back and bringing him down with me as I laid back on the couch. My bulky clothes suddenly seemed really in the way, and with a cry of frustration, I yanked off my hoodie.
“We won’t be fucking tonight,” he said breathlessly against my mouth. “I just want to touch your skin… taste you.”
His words took my breath and when he pulled down my slacks, I didn’t stop him.
I was only in my bra and panties now. Denton leaned back to stare at my belly, running his hand over it.
“I’m happy you’re the woman having my baby,” he murmured, pressing gentle kisses down the slope of my belly. “So. Fucking. Happy.”
“I feel the same way.” Smiling, I ran my hands over his thick hair. “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
“I think it’s a boy. But a tiny sweet girl with your eyes would be perfect.” He leaned over my breasts. “Planning to breastfeed or bottle feed?”
“Breastfeed, definitely.”
His green eyes blazed. “Then I’d better get my fill of them before the baby arrives.” He unhooked and pulled off my bra, then slipped a tight nipple into his hot mouth, teasing me with his tongue. I cried out as pleasure shot down my torso, settling between my legs. He did the same thing to my other nipple, his tongue licking and teasing until I was a shuddering mess beneath him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, staring at my flushed face. “That night when we ran into each other at the nightclub was probably the luckiest of my life.”
He was saying things I’d always wanted to hear, but the timing was wrong. Right now, pleasure was all I cared about.
“Denton…” I writhed against him, pulling at his shirt. Begging silently.
With a chuckle, he slid my panties down my legs and settled between them, pushing my thighs farther apart. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”
I was completely exposed to him. My baby bump hid his face from my view, so I raised my head to see him better.
“Denton—oh!” My head fell back as his mouth pressed on my clit, his tongue running over my sensitive flesh. The sounds he was making, like I was so delicious, drove me crazy. His hot breath washed over me, his fingers reaching up to tug at my nipples. When he sucked hard on my clit, the most delicious orgasm rocked through me, sending my body arching as he clamped down harder with his mouth.
Next, I reciprocated by taking his cock into my mouth, watching his face as I took him deeper into my throat. His blond hair was slightly damp with sweat, his eyes locked with mine as I dipped him in and out. He was so unbelievably beautiful. And for tonight at least, he was all mine. Even the very last drop after he came in my mouth.
“Can you sleep here tonight?” he whispered in my ear as we spooned naked, sated and content.
“Hmm.” I opened my eyes and shifted to face him. “I don’t know if that’s
a good idea. Maybe I should go home.”
“What if I told you I want to be your husband… your real husband?” he said slowly.
I was speechless. “How… how can you say that? We haven’t even been divorced for a whole month.”
“We’re not divorced.”
“What?”
“We’re not divorced,” he repeated calmly. “I had you sign the papers to put your mind at ease, but I tore them up that same day.”
I quickly sat up. “But… why?”
He sat up, his expression hard. “I never should have told you that I was considering a divorce. Whether you were pregnant or not, I wanted to be with you. But I felt burdened by your need to label my feelings, your need to paint this picture-perfect life.” He paused, as if hesitant to say what was on his mind. “I don’t know what you see when you look at me. I’ve known plenty of women who had high expectations, and a part of me was worried that you were the same. But I’m not perfect, Tiffany. Far from it. I’m an incredibly flawed individual.”
He shot me a troubled glance. “You kept wanting to hear those words: I love you. But what if my love wasn’t enough? You wanted perfect love, but the only kind I could offer you was of the messy variety. And it’s still true today.”
I certainly hadn’t been expecting this confession from him. Not knowing what to say, I grumbled, “I can’t believe we’re still married.”
“Does it upset you?”
No, you fool, I wanted to shout, I’m relieved, can’t you tell? Because I fucking love you.
Instead, I cleared my throat loudly. “Do you love me, then?”
This time, he didn’t avoid the question. “I love you my way. And I’ve never looked at another woman sexually since that morning when I found you rushing around my bedroom, throwing on your clothes and calling me ‘Blondie’ with such venom.”
I closed my eyes, holding back tears. That was more than enough for me.
“So where do we go from here?” I asked once my pulse had slowed enough that I could speak.
“When you’re ready, you can move into our penthouse. And your mother and Rach can stay at the condominium.”
Perfect Husband: A Fake Marriage Romance Page 13