Rent-A Husband

by Everly Ashton

  He smiles at me and brings himself fully over me. Our bodies press together and I feel that he’s ready to go again, which only makes the space between my thighs hum with pleasure.

  “Then let’s do this. Camila, will you be my girlfriend for real this time and not just pretend?” Lucas arches one eyebrow.

  I giggle like a schoolgirl. “I’d love nothing more.”

  We seal it with a kiss, and he rises up and looks down at me. “Should we go give that new shower a test run?” He arches one brow.

  “Absolutely.”

  The next morning, I call Amber while I’m on the train headed to work.

  “You’re either in crisis mode or you got laid if you’re calling me this early in the morning. Which is it?”

  I laugh. “The latter.”

  “No friggin’ way! Seriously?”

  “Lucas and I…” I glance around the car to confirm that no one is paying me any attention. They’re not. Like most commuters, they’re either sleeping or have their own AirPods in and are on their phones.

  “Oh my god, you had sex with your fake husband.”

  “Actually, real boyfriend now.” My cheek muscles actually hurt from how much I’ve been smiling all morning.

  “Okay, you have to tell me everything. How the hell did this happen?”

  I shift in my seat and explain how he completed the bathroom project last night then left and how shitty I felt. Then how he showed right back up and kissed me.

  “And then you guys slept together?” she asks.

  “Twice.”

  “And how was it?” Amber asks impatiently, as though I should have already told her a play-by-play.

  “Toe-curling, phenomenal, amazing. Best I’ve ever had.”

  “Finally, you’ve gotten laid by a man who knows what he’s doing.”

  I’d argue with her, but she’s not wrong. It’s not that any of my other partners were terrible, but being with them didn’t feel like the experience it was with Lucas.

  “So now you’re seeing each other?”

  I nod even though she can’t see me. “Yeah, he asked me to be his real girlfriend. How adorable is that?”

  “Completely,” she says. “I’m really happy for you. You deserve this, Cami.”

  “Thanks. I’m still so shocked. It doesn’t feel real yet.”

  “The four of us will have to go out some time.”

  “For sure.” I look out the window and see that my stop is coming up next. “Just let me get some time under our belt of just the two of us before I introduce him to you two and you tell him every embarrassing thing you know about me.”

  She laughs. “Fair enough.”

  “I gotta run. My train just pulled into the station.”

  “All right, girl. Keep me in the loop.”

  “Will do.” I end the call then shove my phone in my purse, grab my bag, and stand as the train comes to a stop.

  The woman in the seat behind me stands as well and catches my eye while I wait for the train to come to a complete stop. “Toe-curling, huh? Keep that one around.” She grins and walks past me off the train when the doors open.

  My face probably looks as if I’ve been sunburned with how hot it feels right now, but as I step off the train, I decide there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Most women would kill for a lover like Lucas, and I’m the lucky girl who somehow snagged him. For real.

  Twenty-Seven

  Camila

  “What did you think of what happened yesterday?” Amy asks.

  We’re taking our lunch break together at a café around the corner from our office, something we don’t do often. Amy’s bridal shower was yesterday and there was a bit of an… incident.

  “I think you got a lot of great things. The place you and Greg bought is going to look great.”

  She looks down her nose at me. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

  Two of her aunts had a little too much punch at the party and ended up getting into an argument about Amy’s grandma’s will. From what I gather, her grandma died almost a decade ago, but her one aunt still hasn’t gotten over the fact that the other aunt was left the good china, an apparent family heirloom.

  I shrug. “Families are complicated.”

  “They ruined my shower.” Her shoulders slump as she takes a sip of her water.

  “No, they didn’t. It was still a lovely day.” I squeeze her hand.

  “They almost got into a fist fight.”

  I hold my finger in the air. “Almost, but they didn’t.”

  “It was so embarrassing.” She covers her face with her hands, and when she pulls them away, there are tears in her eyes.

  “Listen, it was not embarrassing for you. In fact, it’s no reflection on you at all. They’re grown women who are responsible for their own behavior. Not you. Sure, there was a moment where it seemed like maybe the shower would be ruined, but once your mom persuaded both of them to leave, things got back on track.”

  She gives me a wane smile. “I bet your family doesn’t have any drama. I never hear you mention any.”

  My drama was all saved for my childhood. “Every family has their issues. Like I said, they’re complicated.”

  The waitress returns with our meals. Both of us opted for a grilled chicken salad.

  “Thanks so much,” I say.

  “Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asks.

  “I think we’re good for now.” After she walks away from the table, I return my attention to Amy. “Are your aunts going to the bachelorette party?”

  She scowls. “Hell no.”

  “Well then, you only have to worry about the wedding, and you get to determine where everyone sits for that, so you can just keep them separate. Problem solved.” I spear a piece of chicken and lettuce with my fork and bring it to my mouth.

  “Speaking of the bachelorette party, Greg wanted me to ask you for Lucas’s number so that he could invite him to the bachelor party.”

  Her comment surprises me, and I half choke on my salad while I’m swallowing it. I cough into my hand then take a big sip of my water to help it down. “Oh, sure, yeah. I’ll text you over his contact.” I take another sip of water while Amy watches.

  “Well, do it now before you forget, woman.” She smiles then takes a bite of her lunch.

  “Right.” I pull my phone from my purse and pull up Lucas’s contact, then send it to her phone.

  I probably shouldn’t be nervous. I mean, at least Lucas is actually my boyfriend now. But he’s not my husband, and the idea of him out drinking all night with the guys… what if he blurts out the truth or says something to make someone suspect we’re not really married?

  Amy’s phone beeps on the table in front of her. “Thanks, I’ll pass it along to Greg. He really liked Lucas.”

  “That’s great,” I say. Sure, I want my friend and her husband to like my boyfriend, but having them get close to my fake husband is something else entirely.

  We spend the rest of lunch filling each other in on our assignments at work and talking about the bachelorette party and the upcoming wedding. I want to be happy for my friend, and I am, but I can’t stop the sense of unease I have about the bachelor party.

  Since lunch with Amy, my thoughts have been stuck on families—specifically mine. I can’t stop thinking about my dad. Wondering about where he might be, why he left with no explanation and never returned, and whether he’s even still alive.

  They’ve also been stuck wondering whether Lucas will say yes to the bachelor party or not. Once I’m seated on the train out of Seattle, I text Lucas. He’s probably still working, but maybe he’ll see it when he’s done.

  Me: We need to talk. Any chance you can swing by tonight?

  To my surprise, my message reads Read immediately and the three little dots appear.

  Lucas: Is this a booty call?

  I chuckle, drawing the attention of a couple people seated around me, so I dip my head and return the message.

>   Me: It could be… after we talk.

  Lucas: You can just come out and say it. Nothing to be shy about. I’ve seen all your bits and pieces. Tasted them all too. ;)

  I shift in my seat as the space between my legs hums. Since the night I officially became Lucas’s girlfriend a couple of weeks ago, we’ve done it on practically every surface in my house. I can’t walk into my house anymore without vivid memories of all the ways he’s taken me.

  Me: I will say it… after we talk.

  Lucas: All right I can take a hint. We have something important to discuss. I’ll swing by after I have a shower and change when I’m done at this job. See you in a few hours.

  Me: See you then.

  I slide my phone back into my purse and lean back into my seat, feeling more relaxed than I did when I got on the train. Lucas always has that effect on me. I’m unable to fight the grin that comes when I close my eyes to relax for the rest of my trip and picture what Lucas might do to me once we’re done with our talk tonight.

  Twenty-Eight

  Lucas

  I make it over to Camila’s just after eight. The job I was working on ran late, and though I’m exhausted, I’m eager to see her. Lately I’ve felt as though I’m burning the wick at both ends between work and trying to carve out time to spend with Camila, but she’s worth it.

  I knock twice on the door and hear her yell to come in, so I turn the knob and head in. I toe off my shoes and close the door before I find her in the living room, sprawled across the couch. Her shoulder-length hair is down and styled straight today, and she’s wearing a pair of short shorts with an oversized sweater that hangs off one shoulder. She looks hot as hell and I hope that whatever she wants to discuss doesn’t take long because I want the feeling of her coming around my cock—stat.

  “Hey, how was your day?” I press a kiss to her mouth.

  Her hand comes to the back of my head and she deepens the kiss for a moment. When I pull away, her almond-colored eyes are slightly glazed and I know I’m not the only one who can’t wait to get naked.

  “It was good. How about you?” She sits up into the corner of the couch and I take the seat beside her.

  “Not bad. Long day. Got a late start because there was some paperwork stuff I had to take care of before I headed out.”

  She worries her bottom lip for a second. “I’m sorry. We can do this another night.”

  I take her hand and squeeze. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

  Camila relaxes a bit. “Good to know.” She smiles. “I had lunch with Amy today.”

  “How’d that go?” From the way she’s pressing her plump lips together, I can tell that whatever she wants to talk about is a result of that lunch.

  “It was fine. I think she was embarrassed about what happened at the shower yesterday, but I tried to make her feel better about it.”

  I chuckle, remembering the story Camila told me. “I think something like that is only entertaining if you’re not the one involved.”

  “Definitely. Anyway, she mentioned that Greg wanted your contact info because he was going to invite you to the bachelor party.”

  Is this what she’s worried about? That she would have to convince me to go?

  “No worries, he texted me earlier today and I told him I’d be there.”

  Her face drops.

  “What, was that the wrong answer?”

  She lets go of my hand and brings hers to her forehead. “It’s just that this is getting to be more of a tangled mess. What if you’re all drinking and you let something slip about how we’re not actually married?”

  I tilt my head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Not on purpose. But people do all kinds of things they don’t mean to when they’re drunk.”

  “Camila, I’m not going to let anything slip. Relax. If you want, I won’t even drink if it’ll make you feel better about me being there. Or I can just say something came up and skip it.”

  She sighs. “No, I want you to go. Especially because Amy told me at lunch that the bachelor and bachelorette parties will be meeting up partway through the night. I’ll have had enough of avoiding Sarah all night by then. You’ll be a welcome distraction.” She smiles when she says it, but something in my chest tightens anyway.

  I know we started this whole charade because of her ex, but something about him still getting to her now that we’re an actual couple bugs the hell outta me.

  “It’ll be fine. If anything, it’ll be easier to sell the fact that we’re a couple now that we actually are.” I pull her onto my lap.

  Her arms drape over my shoulders and she lets her forehead fall to mine. “You’re right. I’m worrying too much.”

  I rub my hand up and down her back. “There’s something else going on though.”

  She pulls back to look at me. “How do you know that?”

  “Because you’re still tense even though we’ve cleared that up. What’s going on?”

  She looks away from me for a moment. “Something Amy said at our lunch got my mind going in a direction I haven’t let it in some time.”

  I have no idea what she’s talking about, but it’s clear to me that whatever it is, it’s upsetting to her. I brush my thumb across her cheek. “You can talk to me about whatever is bothering you.”

  Her eyes meet mine again. “I’ve never told you about my father.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  She doesn’t talk about her family much at all, which I’ve only noticed because it’s in stark contrast to me. I’m always talking about my family, what with working with my brothers and discussing the upcoming anniversary party for my grandparents.

  She swallows hard and a line forms between her brows. “That’s because my dad left when I was eight. It was kind of cliché actually… said he was going out to the store and just never returned. Things weren’t great between my parents, but I had no idea they were so bad that my dad was thinking of leaving.”

  “Did you talk to your dad after the divorce?” Maybe it was a nasty divorce and she was caught in the middle.

  She lets out a sad sort of chuckle. “I could’ve handled a divorce. Lots of my friends’ parents split up. No, my dad left and never returned. Called a few weeks later and left a message on our answering machine at home saying that he wasn’t happy and he wouldn’t be back and not to bother trying to track him down. That message was the last time I heard his voice.”

  My stomach rolls like a stormy sea. Jesus. I can’t imagine ever just leaving your kid by choice, nor can I imagine what being the kid left behind does to you. Suddenly Camila’s devastation over what her ex did and her need to not let him think she’s still grieving makes sense to me.

  “Camila, baby, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” I pull her in and let her rest her head on my shoulder while I rub her back.

  She holds me tightly before she speaks again. “I was trying to make Amy feel better about what happened at the shower and I told her that family is complicated and she mentioned how I never speak about mine. That got me thinking about my dad today.”

  I pull back and she does as well, looking at me with eyes that hold an abundance of pain. All I wish for in that moment is that I could take the pain away from her, even if I have to make it my own.

  “What he did was completely unacceptable and is no reflection on you. You know that, right? You were just a child.”

  She turns her head away from me. I put my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me. It breaks my heart to think that this spectacular woman might question her worth because of wounds inflicted by her father.

  “Camila, a real man, a good man, doesn’t leave his family on a whim. Even if he had his reasons for leaving, they weren’t you. You understand that, right? Tell me you understand.”

  “You’re not saying anything my mom hasn’t said a million times. And I wish I could tell you I believe it, but the truth is that sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I still feel like that little gir
l whose dad chose to leave her.”

  I frown. “Like you did when Elijah told you he never loved you and was in love with someone else.”

  She nods. The tears welling in her eyes don’t fall, but they’re close.

  “Elijah didn’t deserve you, the same way your dad didn’t. Both of them were fools, Cami, do you hear me?”

  She nods, clearly reluctantly.

  “I mean it. You are worth so much. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

  “How do you see me?” she whispers.

  “As the caring, capable, intelligent, independent, gorgeous woman you are. And anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives—romantically or not. Don’t you forget that.”

  For the first time since I arrived, the clouds begin to lift from her gaze. “Is that really how you see me?”

  I nod. “Allow me to show you.”

  I pull her in for a kiss and I spend the next two hours demonstrating exactly how she should be worshiped.

  Twenty-Nine

  Lucas

  It’s the end of the day on Thursday, and all of us are back at the office, dropping off our work slips and the receipts for anything we had to buy for the jobs. I’m the last one in, and there’s a light flashing on the office phone.

  “Neither of you thought to listen to the message on the machine when you got in?” I call from my office.

  Josh comes in first. “Sorry, bro. I just wanted to get in and out of here. Brady and I have a date with a set of twins tonight.” He rubs his hands together.

  “Same. I have to go finish a piece I’ve sold. Gotta drop it off in the next day or two,” Travis says when he walks in a moment later.