Fake it Baby

by Tia Siren

  I groaned before leaning forward and opening the door.

  “Can we talk for a minute?” he said in his smooth, deep voice that had grown more mature and far more masculine with age.

  I looked back at Sally. She smiled. “Go ahead. It isn’t like they are going to leave without you. You need to talk to him.”

  I sighed and climbed out of the back of the car, making sure to keep my legs together to avoid flashing everyone. I didn’t need a scandal at my best friend’s funeral because of my carelessness.

  “What?” I said with a huff, not looking him in the eye.

  He reached out and put a hand on my elbow, leading me away from the mourners filing out of the church and into cars. I jerked my arm away. I didn’t want him touching me. He glanced back at the limo.

  “Is she in there?”

  “Who?”

  “The baby.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No. I left her with some lady I met at the funeral.”

  “Avery,” he said with a scowl on his face.

  I glared at him. About a million emotions were running through my head. I couldn’t decipher them all. Everything was crisscrossing and making me feel crazy. There were no words to express what I was feeling, so I did the next best thing. I kicked him in the shin.

  When he yelped and jumped backward, I felt like a maniac. What the hell had I been thinking? I had kicked him? That was mature. He was staring at me as if I had three heads. In that moment, I kind of felt like I did. Part of me was grieving the loss of my best friend, another part of me was furious her brother showed up to take her baby from me, and then there was the part of me that had no business showing up at all. It was the part of me that recognized how fucking hot Jake looked in his suit.

  I couldn’t let myself think like that. Not now, not ever. He was bad news.

  Chapter Four

  Jake

  “Did you seriously just kick me?” I asked in surprise.

  My shin was stinging and would definitely be bruised from the hard, pointed toe of her black pump. I stared down at her, feeling as if I were back in the third grade and some little girl had kicked me on the playground. It was the most juvenile response I had ever seen from a grown woman.

  “I did. You deserved it,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Why? Why the hell would you kick me? What the hell? Deserved it?” I knew I sounded as juvenile as she was acting, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  She glared at me, not answering the question.

  “You cannot possibly be mad at me still. Hold a grudge much?” I snarked.

  As she glared at me, practically filleting me with her eyes, I realized I was a real ass. Of course she didn’t like me. I had treated her like shit. I knew what I was doing that night, and being the older, wiser, and supposedly more mature one out of the two of us, I should have stopped it. I didn’t. Truth be told, I couldn’t. She was gorgeous, and I had been young and horny. I had found out a moment too late she was a virgin. I wasn’t sure that would have stopped me, though. I felt guilty for taking her virginity, but it wasn’t like I could change the past. What was done was done.

  It seemed like death had a way of making you realize how stupid you had been. How petty the arguments with loved ones really were. Everything shifted. Your perspective shifted. Looking at Avery, I felt a surge of guilt. Ever since I had heard the news about Tracy, I had been doing a lot of self-examination. Mistakes I had made in the past were coming back to haunt me.

  When Avery gave me a thin, tight-lipped smile, I knew I was about to get my ass chewed.

  “I’m not mad at you at all,” she said in a sweet voice. “I’m not mad at you because I don’t think about you.” Her long, dark lashes fluttered against her skin.

  I was captivated by her beauty. I remembered she’d been hot back in the day, but now she was gorgeous. Few women could pull off that short pixie cut. She rocked it. It made her look ultra-feminine and sexy. Avery looked tough and beautiful at the same time. I had been a fool for breaking her heart seven years ago.

  “I want to see the baby,” I demanded, trying to remember what her name was.

  Avery glared at me. “No.”

  “Excuse me. She’s my niece. I want to see her.”

  “What’s her name?” she shot back. “Tell me what her name is or when her birthday is and I’ll consider it.”

  “She’s my niece, Avery. I want to see her,” I demanded, avoiding the question. “I assume you know what happened with Tracy and me. I never disowned her. I reached out many times over the past six months, trying to make things right. She ignored me.”

  Avery cocked her head to the side. “Yes, I do know. I know what you said to her and how badly you hurt her. She loved that baby more than anything in the world. I promised to take care of her should anything happen to her. I’m going to do exactly that.”

  “I’m not the big, bad wolf. I’m her uncle. She’s my blood. I want to see her,” I said in a low voice.

  “You don’t even know her. You can’t just show up and take her from the people she knows. You could have come and visited anytime. You know Tracy wouldn’t have refused you if you’d have shown up. You didn’t. You didn’t even send her congratulations or anything!” Her voice was getting louder as her face turned red with emotion.

  “Keep your voice down,” I said, looking around to see if anyone was watching us.

  “You can’t take her from the only people she knows. I’m her family. She knows me,” Avery said in a voice that nearly broke my heart. Tears shone in her eyes, and I knew she had to be in a great deal of pain as well.

  I sighed and decided to soften my approach. “She’s what, four months old? She doesn’t know anyone. We can all be her family. It isn’t going to hurt her to have more people in her life to look out for her.”

  She glared at me. “You’re an idiot. Iris is a sweet little girl who just lost her mommy. She needs comforting from people she is familiar with. You are not familiar,” she said, jamming a finger into my chest.

  I saw the second she realized she had told me the baby’s name. It was old-fashioned, but that was Tracy. She loved vintage and antique stuff. Everyone had always called her an old soul. I smiled, thinking of her shopping at thrift stores, looking for old things. She had been a free-spirited girl, and her decision to become an artist hadn’t been a surprise to anyone. Her art was full of vibrant, colorful flowers. I knew her favorite flower had been irises. Hearing the name of her baby struck a chord within me I hadn’t known was there. My little sister would never see her favorite flower again.

  “I want to see her,” I said in a softer tone, pleading with her. “I want to be familiar. It has to start somewhere. Let it be today. I want to be part of her life.”

  I could see her softening. Then, before I knew what she was doing, she sidestepped me and stomped to the waiting limo. I had to watch her walk away. The black dress she was wearing accentuated her waist and the flare of her hips as they swayed with every step. It was wrong. I knew it was wrong to be turned on by the woman at a funeral for my sister, but good god, she was fucking fine.

  As if she sensed me watching, she stopped and shot me a last glare before climbing in the back of the car. I smirked. I had been busted, and I wasn’t all that ashamed.

  I walked to my own waiting limo and got in, demanding the driver stay right behind the other limo. Tracy was my family. I would be taking my place at the head of the procession. I thought about the baby riding in the car in front of me. The little girl deserved to know all about her mother and her grandparents. I was the only surviving member of her immediate family. I needed to be a part of her life and tell her all the stories I knew about her mommy. I wanted to tell her about her grandma and grandpa. They had been good people, even if I hadn’t realized it until it was too late.

  With my mind made up, I felt a little better. There was still a huge hole in my soul, but I knew I could help fill it with Iris in my life. She was my chance to make t
hings right. She would be the one to benefit from my status and wealth. I knew money couldn’t buy love, but in this case, it would certainly help.

  By the time my driver pulled to a stop and I got out, Avery was already carrying the baby across the grass toward the waiting chairs positioned under a canopy. I watched as she expertly navigated the soft terrain in her heels while perfectly balancing the baby in her arms.

  My eyes drifted ahead to where the burial service would be held. Tracy’s black casket had already been unloaded and was hovering above the ground. I wished I could have seen her one last time, but the funeral director had told me that wasn’t possible due to the severity of her injuries. The thought made me sick to my stomach.

  I looked at the chairs reserved for the family and sat down beside Avery, staring at the little girl who had inherited her mother’s blue eyes. Avery glared at me as if I didn’t belong. I sure as hell did belong here, and I wasn’t about to move to make her happy.

  “I’m staying,” I hissed.

  She released a long sigh. “Fine.”

  “I’m Sally Hooper,” said the elderly woman seated on the other side of Avery as she leaned around her. “I spoke with you on the phone. I’m very sorry about your sister.”

  I shook her hand. “Good to meet you. Jake Colter, as you already know. Thank you for calling me. I’m sorry to have to meet you like this.”

  Avery glared at the woman and then me. Clearly, she didn’t like her friend making nice with the enemy. The preacher strolled up to the casket and stood beside it. He began to talk about life and death, and I tuned out. I thought about the last time I had seen Tracy. I couldn’t even remember when it was. The last time we had Skyped, she had been heavily pregnant. She’d refused to tell me who the father of her child was. I should have been happy for her or offered her help. I hadn’t. I had been a world-class dick.

  She had been happy, but all I could see was that she was ruining her life. I had been worried about her. I hadn’t been mature enough to tell her that and instead had gotten angry. I had sent a few emails and tried to call her, but she’d never returned anything. The last time we had talked, it had not ended well.

  I looked over at the little girl, who was drooling and chewing on some plastic toy. She had the same blond hair, although very fine, as the rest of the family. She was looking at me. I smiled.

  Avery looked at Iris, followed her line of sight, and looked at me. I was still smiling. It wasn’t a charming, lady-killer smile; it was a goofy smile meant to make the baby happy. I quickly dropped the smile and stared back at her.

  A round of “amen” echoed around us and I realized the service was over. People began milling about. I was bombarded by people who had known my parents. They all wanted to apologize and ask about how I was doing. I smiled and nodded and shook so many hands, I lost count. It was nothing but a sea of vaguely familiar faces.

  I kept an eye on Avery, who was holding Iris tightly against her body. Everyone was touching the baby’s head and offering Avery words of comfort.

  “It’s very good of you to take in her baby,” one woman said. “You let us know if there’s anything we can do to help,” I overheard another woman say.

  A third woman stepped up and placed her hand on Iris’s back. “Few people would be as selfless as you to take in an orphan at such a young age,” she said. “You’re a good woman.”

  I wanted to scream that I was right there. I was willing to take the baby. In fact, I wanted the last piece of my sister. I was going to demand Avery give me custody of the child. I knew it was my legal right. I had called my lawyer before coming down to Phoenix and was told that, by law, I was the next of kin and would be given the child if I could provide a suitable home.

  I was a fucking billionaire with every available resource at my disposal. Obviously, I could provide a suitable home. Another person grabbed my hand, pumping it up and down and showering me with condolences. When I looked up, Avery was gone. She had literally taken the baby and run.

  “Dammit!” I cursed a little too loudly.

  The mourners lingering around the casket area gave me a strange look.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “Thank you for coming and thank you for your kind words. I need to go,” I said, and I quickly made my way across the grass and to my waiting car.

  The woman wasn’t going to get away from me that easily. I wanted that baby. I didn’t know anything about who Avery was today, but I knew I had more power and more money. That counted for something.

  Chapter Five

  Avery

  I couldn’t fight the dread in the pit of my stomach. This was it. This was the moment I had been worrying about. Social services had left a message on my phone Friday evening. When I saw the number come across the screen, I had muted my phone. I had known it wouldn’t make it go away, but I hadn’t been able deal with it immediately after burying Tracy.

  I was essentially ordered to show up at the health and welfare building with Avery. I wasn’t even sure how they knew about the situation. Did someone tattle? I only had to wonder for about a minute before I figured out it had to have been Jake. He was staking his claim. He knew damn well I wouldn’t just hand her over, so he was taking me to court.

  “Coward,” I spit out as I sat at the red light, my body tense with anxiety over what was about to happen.

  I was prepared to fight for her. I had to for Tracy. I knew she would never want Iris to end up in foster care. If I couldn’t keep her, I knew it would be better for Jake to take her, but I didn’t have to like it. Tracy hadn’t even told Jake the child’s name or that she had been born at all. That had to count for something in my favor if it came down to him or me getting to raise her. The child’s own mother didn’t want anything to do with the man. Anyone in their right mind would take that as a clue about the man’s character.

  “It’s okay,” I murmured softly when Iris made a gurgling sound. “We’re going to be just fine,” I lied.

  I parked my little four-door car in the parking lot, wondering what would happen if I left and never looked back. I could back up and hit the highway without looking back. It was a thought that kept running through my mind like a ticker tape.

  I couldn’t do it. I knew what would happen. I would be found and arrested and hauled off to prison for kidnapping. Then Iris would definitely go to Jake. Or if he decided a baby cramped his playboy lifestyle, he would give her up. She would be put up for adoption and would never know anything about her mother.

  “You can do this. Stay calm,” I told myself, knowing I tended to let my emotions rule my mouth.

  I couldn’t let that happen. I would appear irrational and unsuitable. I wasn’t going to give Jake or the social worker any reason to remove Iris from my care. I had to appear mature and together. I had spent hours agonizing over what to wear. I had finally settled on a business casual outfit. It was a black pantsuit with a pretty pink blouse. It was flattering and classy while conveying what I hoped was a perfect mommy image.

  I climbed out of the car, disconnected the car seat from the base, and headed inside. I was directed to a row of chairs to sit and wait my turn. I sat down, doing my best to appear calm and relaxed when all I really wanted to do was pace the hallway. Jake strolled in wearing a pair of slacks and a long-sleeve dress shirt.

  How could a man I should hate so much turn me on in an instant? He always appeared so cool and confident. It really pissed me off.

  “Hi,” he said, taking the seat next to mine.

  I glared at him, pointedly looked at his shirt, and smirked. “Nice.”

  “Thank you,” he said with a smile.

  “Covering your tattoos?”

  He shrugged. “It was what I brought with me.”

  That was bullshit and we both knew it. Seven years ago, I had traced the many tattoos he had with my fingers. I had a feeling he had gotten more. He liked to pretend he was the perfect businessman, but I knew he had a wild streak a mile wide.

  “Whatever,” I m
uttered.

  “How’s Iris today?” he said in a weird voice.

  “She’s fine. She’s a good baby,” I said with a tiny bit of pride even though I had nothing to do with her natural behavior. That was all Tracy. Tracy was very easy-going. Iris seemed to have inherited her mother’s personality.

  “Hi, Iris,” he said, peering down into the car seat where the baby was quietly chewing on her favorite toy. “How are you?”

  “You know she doesn’t talk, right?” I said dryly.

  He shrugged. “I figured that. Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t talk to her. How’s she going to learn if she is only exposed to baby talk and all that goo-goo ga-ga drivel?”

  I glared at him. He smiled, and I nearly melted. Damn him. I hated that he was so attractive. There was some kind of invisible thread that pulled me to him. I was fighting the urge to touch him. How could I want a man who had hurt me so badly? Damn hormones or pheromones or whatever the hell the problem was. Sitting so close to him was messing with my head. I couldn’t think straight, and the right way to think was to hate him. He was the one who was going to take away Iris.

  “Avery Hampstead, Jake Colter?” A middle-aged woman appeared before us.

  “Yes,” we said in unison.

  “Let’s go to my office,” she said without bothering to introduce herself or exchange any pleasantries.

  I stood and bent down to reach for the car seat handle.

  “I’ll carry her,” Jake said, grabbing the handle of the car seat before I had a chance.

  I wanted to tell him to let go, but the woman had turned to look at us. I smiled and nodded while wishing he would disappear. I walked behind him and couldn’t help but notice how cute the scene before me was. Well, it would have been sweet and endearing if he wasn’t trying to steal the baby right out from under me.

  We sat down, and the woman pulled out a manila folder. She opened it up, scanned it, and then typed something into her computer. She was nodding her head as she read.

  “You’re Avery, the deceased’s friend and the person who has had the baby since she died,” she said without looking at me.