Practice Makes Perfect: A Fake Fiancée Romance

by Morgan Rae

  It hits a little close to home. I tuck some hair behind my ear. “I might,” I whisper.

  Damien’s eyes lock on me. He knits his eyebrows, leans against the bar, and then says, “Who did you murder, darling?”

  I look up at him. His smile is so charming, so boyish, and his eyes are full of nothing but soft adoration. He’s giving me the floor. This is it. My heart hammers in my chest. This is my moment, it’s now or never.

  I put down my toast, clear my throat, and look him in the eyes. “I—”

  A knock on the door interrupts before I can barely start.

  Damien looks apologetic when he lifts a finger and says, “Hold that thought.”

  I force a smile and nod. “Sure.” Inwardly, however, I’m screaming. My skull feels like a coffee grinder, churning through all sorts of dark, unpleasant thoughts. I started this morning with so much potential, but my tongue catches every time I try to open my mouth. I want to scream for everyone to just shut up and listen to me.

  Maybe, Nan Harper wouldn’t have hesitated to put her foot down, but Tomlin Murray knows to wait for the right moment. I poke at my jam with a knife as I hear Damien twist the lock and open the door.

  “Hi. Can I help you?” Damien Blaze is back to being effortlessly charming and cordial. Meanwhile, I savagely stab at my toast.

  “Actually, you’re not the one I’m looking for. Is Tomlin Murray here?”

  I know that voice. I quickly jump off my stool and whip around.

  Jack Raleigh stands at my doorstep. He’s wearing slim khaki slacks and a loose, flowery, island-inspired shirt. His grin stretches across his salt-and-pepper beard. Behind him, the camera crew catches our reactions.

  “Jack!” I leap off the stool and catapult myself at him. I can hear the air escape his lungs as I throw my arms around him and squeeze tightly. Back at the office, Jack was the target of every one of my eye rolls. Here, he feels like a life vest and a breath of fresh air for this drowning girl. He smells like terrible cigarettes and the sticky, inky smell of over processed film and I want to drink it in for just a second.

  This is just pretend, I hear my heartbeat whisper in my ears. Jack is a reminder that this island is a farce. Soon, I’ll be back in Jack’s rank office, fretting about deadlines and stories and I’ll never have to think about this place again.

  “Good to see you too, Tomlin,” Jack murmurs pointedly. I’m not out of the woods yet, I have to maintain face. I pry myself off him, and dim my crazed smile.

  “Jack, what the hell are you doing here?”

  “Well, it just so happens that there’s a little thing called friends and family day. And seeing as I’m your best friend I suppose the producers couldn’t miss out on the opportunity.”

  My mind spins until I remember Jack was on my contact information when I handed my files over. Of course, I should’ve seen something like this coming. There’s always a family day, only problem is, Tomlin Murray doesn’t have a family.

  Still, it should be bizarre that Jack would show up himself. I might’ve understood an intern or another actor, but Jack?

  Then again, the bastard never could let anyone else have the spotlight for too long. Of course, he wouldn’t pass this opportunity up.

  Damien releases a tightly exhaled breath behind me, I almost forgot he was there. His jaw looks tight enough to crack stone as he locks eyes with Jack, so I sidle up next to him and hook my arm in his own. I draw my hand over his chest intimately and say, “This is Damien Blaze.”

  “Mr. Blaze, should I call you Mr. Blaze? It’s a pleasure.” Jack thrusts his hand forward. “I’m—”

  “Jack Raleigh.” Damien takes his hand and shakes it, but he doesn’t let go right away. His smile could cut ice. “TXR’s top producer. I know all about you. You and your team of spies stalk me on a regular basis.”

  My throat dries up and for a second all I can hear is my rapid heartbeat in my ears. My realities are clashing.

  Steely Jack can’t turn down a dogfight and he matches Damien with a shark smile of his own. “Me and my team of spies keep you relevant. It’s free marketing. You’re welcome for that, by the way.”

  “You hacked into my band mate’s phone and published incredibly personal photos of him and his fiancée,” Damien interrupts. He’s livid now and an angry blush rises in his cheeks. “How exactly is that supposed to help me?”

  The cameramen adjust their lenses for a close-up. We’re seconds away from another black eye, so I quickly defuse the situation. I step in between them and rest my hand on Damien’s chest.

  “Damien,” I chastise. “Jack is my friend. He’s good people.”

  Mistrust still lingers in Damien’s eyes, but as soon as his gaze finds me, the harsh lines in his jaw flex and relax. He exhales deeply and pulls the corners of his mouth up in a forced smile.

  “My apologies,” Damien says. “I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.”

  The terseness of his stance tells me he’s absolutely not sorry, but he’ll play nice for my sake. Jack relaxes back into a cocky smile. Jack, as usual, is the trouble child who got off without so much as a slap on the wrist. “It’s a complex business, not everyone gets it.”

  “How exactly do you know Tomlin?” The question is innocent enough, but Damien’s tone is still raw and sharp.

  There’s no way in hell I’m letting Jack field this one. “College,” I spit out quickly. “We met in college. We were both in an advanced photography class and we’ve kept in touch since.”

  Jack hooks his arm around my shoulders and yanks me in close. “We were practically fraternity brothers,” he laughs. He’s the only one who laughs at his terrible jokes. His grip on my shoulder is hard and possessive. “No secrets between us. Speaking of,” he tilts down and stage whispers to me, “You might want to do something about your robe, darling.”

  My eyes drop down to see my robe making a very long, and very open ‘V’. I quickly yank the sides of my robe together before spitting out, “I’m going to get changed.”

  “Do that,” he says. “I’ll meet you two up at the bonfire.”

  “See you then.” I shrug out of his arm and shoot Damien an apologetic look.

  Jack leaves with the cameras trailing behind him. Privacy is just an illusion I remind myself. Jack may have left with the cameramen but I know the house cameras are trained on us, ready for a blow-out.

  “Sorry about him,” I say. I turn my gaze away from him as I run my fingers through my hair. I decide my best bet to diffuse the situation is to stay busy. I head into the kitchen and pick up the plate of toast from easier and carry it to the trash.

  My eyes are glued to the plate, but I can feel Damien’s glare and hear the frown in his voice. “Jack Raleigh is your friend.”

  “Yes,” I try to knock down the skepticism in his voice. “I know he’s a pain, but he’s different once you get to know him. He’s really a good guy, underneath all that hair product.”

  I scrape the residue of jam from my plate and toss it in the sink. Damien’s palm plants on the counter beside me, blocking my way to the rest of the kitchen. He’s not letting up. “He’s a liar,” he says plainly.

  My eyes flicker to him. “And?”

  “I can’t stand liars.”

  A prickle of sweat trickles along the back of my neck. “Everyone lies.”

  “Not me,” Damien says.

  His words send a sting of uncontrollable rage through me. I pull back from him as though bitten. “What do you call this? This whole thing is a lie.”

  My arms are stiff at my sides like loaded guns as he leans in, catching my wrists and tracing his thumbs on the inside of my arms. The intimate touch makes me shudder. “I’m sorry, you’re right.” His voice is low and warms me like the first splash of morning sun. “I meant that I would never lie to you, Tomlin.”

  His eyes never leave mine and suddenly, this doesn’t feel like play-acting anymore. The look in his eyes isn’t fa
ke, either. It’s the same look he had last night when we traded confessions on the rocks. He means it, every word, and to him, this is real.

  “I wouldn’t lie to you either,” I echo, but the words feel hollow. My throat grows tight and I feel like I’ve swallowed glass. My heart is beating too fast and panic starts to rise in my chest. My secret twists a knot around my lungs, making it difficult to breath. I’m very aware that my two lives are currently grinding hard against each other, threatening to crack my façade. I take a deep breath to try and calm my growing anxiety..

  “Maybe we should slow this down,” I try.

  “Or speed it up.” Damien’s mouth crashes against mine and I whimper into his kiss. My resolve melts in his mouth and I realize that this is real for me, too. I need this man.

  He backs me against the kitchen counter and I hook my hands around the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. He tastes like coffee and sleep and I can’t get enough. His hands fall to my thighs and he hoists me up and sits me down on the edge of the counter. He’s effortlessly strong when he lifts me, but as soon as his hands are back on me his fingers and soft and gentle. He trails kisses along my throat as he makes light work of the knot on my robe. The robe falls open, exposing myself to him. Already, my nipples are diamond hard.

  Damien’s hands cup my hips and his lips trail down the center of my body. I gasp and nestle against him. My eyes land on the bookshelf across the way and I spot the not-so-hidden camera pointed directly at us.

  As he makes his way back up my body I laugh into his ear. “America is watching.”

  “Let them watch.” His breath tickles my throat. “I want everyone to know that I can’t keep my hands off you.”

  How does he always know exactly what to say to make me squirm? He gets down to his knees before me and peels my underwear down my legs. Takes my foot in his hand and presses a kiss to the arch. His eyes remain on mine, predatory.

  “I’m afraid you made a terrible mistake last night,” he says.

  I can’t help the smile that teases my lips. “Why’s that?”

  “Because when I find a song I like, I listen to it over and over-and-over again. Nonstop. I can’t help myself.” He kisses my calf, my thigh, and his unshaven morning stubble grazes my sensitive skin. “And those pretty moans of yours have become my new favorite track.”

  He pinches my sex open between his thumb and forefinger before he dips his head down. I feel his breath first, hot and beating against my wet bud. His lips come next, a soft kiss. When his tongue glides between my legs, I gasp and my palm hits the back wall for balance.

  “Oh god, Damien,” I breathe. He swirls and licks and I’m in heaven. My body is still sensitive from the pounding it took last night, but it unravels completely underneath him. Sore aches give way to desperate throbs and it’s not long before I’m moaning for him. He does things with his tongue that makes my toes curl.

  My leg pulls up and braces on his stomach. I feel the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen and a wicked thought crosses my mind. I bite my lip and lower my leg just a bit. My foot snakes between his legs and I can feel his erection straining against his tight pants. It’s a bit of an awkward angle, but I find I can keep my thighs spread enough for his mouth and rub my foot against the growing bulge.

  He growls between my legs. He steals his tongue back briefly only to murmur, “Naughty girl.”

  “Don’t stop,” I tell him.

  He doesn’t. His lips dance between my legs in ways that send hot bolts of pleasure rushing through me. I roll my ankle and nuzzle my foot against his hard shaft, a longing groan leaves his lips and vibrates through me.

  Holy hell, that’s a delicious sound. I get his fixation with sound now, moans, gasps, groans, all of it sends a shudder through me.

  My teasing seems to spur him on, he licks me furiously, no holds barred. His hands grip my thighs to hold me tightly in place as I jerk and writhe. Without warning, I start to crest. I can no longer multitask and my thighs clamp around his head as I grip his hair in one hand, the wall with the other.

  “Oh god, Damien!” I cry out. His tongue flicks my bundle of nerves repeatedly, sending blinding pleasure through me. “Right there…just like that.”

  He breathes me in as though he can’t get enough and a second growl from him sends me over my edge. I cry out loudly and my thighs tremble wildly as I explode. My orgasm pulses through me and I moan through it as I spill out onto his tongue. He laps me up greedily and sends another shiver through me.

  I feel flushed and exhilarated. “God,” I whisper, “I’d take that over a shot of espresso any day.”

  Damien wipes his mouth and laughs. “Is that a challenge?”

  Heavy-lidded and stupid with endorphins, I blink at him. “Huh?”

  He cups the side of my face and his thumb skids across my jaw. “When we get married,” he says, “I’ll make you feel this good every day.”

  Married? Reality hits me and takes the edge off my orgasm. We’re engaged, a tiny, important detail that keeps slipping my mind. But his eyes are sharp, clear-sky blue, and they never leave my own.

  Is this no longer a game for him? The lines are blurring dangerously. Somewhere along the way, I got tangled up in my lies and now I can’t tell which declarations are for the cameras and which are real.

  “We should get going,” I tell him. “Patience isn’t really Jack’s strong suit.”

  Jack’s name earns me a flicker of danger in Damien’s eyes, but he smiles through it. “Of course,” he says. “Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

  This is going to be a disaster and I know it. I hop off the kitchen counter and go to the bathroom to dry myself off so I don’t completely ruin my panties. I pull on a flower-patterned summer dress and glance over to Damien who looks handsome in a smart, powder-blue button up. As I wait for Damien to lock the door behind us I turn my gaze upwards. The sky is dull grey and I catch the metallic smell of rain in the air.

  The calm before the storm.

  Damien’s hand rests on the small of my back as he leads us to the bonfire at the center of our campsite. The fire is out and the immense pile of sticks looks like they’re preparing for a Salem Witch Trial-style burning. I whisper as much to Damien and he chuckles.

  Shayla and Darius arrive from the opposite side of the camp. Shayla has a lavender sarong swinging low on her hips and Darius wears a white, open-buttoned shirt. They really do look the part, especially walking hand in hand like that. When they get close enough, Shayla’s eyes connect on mine and she casts me a knowing look.

  “Looks like we’re not the only ones who got a late start,” Shayla grins and winks at me. I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks and I laugh it off.

  There are two groups on either side of the bonfire. On the right, there are four older people, Shayla and Darius’s parents, if I had to guess. My suspicions are confirmed when Shayla squeals and goes running into her father’s arms while her mother laughs. There’s no sign of family on our side of the bonfire, and for a second I’m disappointed. Until I realize that Tomlin Murray has no legal family, so it wouldn’t exactly be easy to wrangle up parents for her. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure it would take a miracle and a half to get my parents to agree to be on television together. So, in their place, I have Jack Raleigh, looking smug and camera-ready as ever.

  There’s a tall, gangly man, wearing a ripped band shirt and hair down to his shoulders standing next to him. Beside him, a petite blonde holds hands with a young girl about three or four. Damien’s eyes light up and a genuine smile stretches across his face.

  “Randall!” Damien closes the gap between himself and the family and pulls the man into an embrace, clasping his back. “You brought the whole gang.”

  “Turns out all you have to say is ‘beach resort’ and the little lady starts packing,” Randall grins.

  I mentally chastise myself for not immediately recognizing Damien’s band mate, Randall Ray.

&n
bsp; “We wouldn’t miss it,” the woman says and presses a kiss to Damien’s cheek.

  Meanwhile, I perch awkwardly on the outer circle of their tiny family reunion. Damien doesn’t leave me out to dry for long, he turns and takes a hold of my hand to pull me into the group. “This is Tomlin.”

  “Hi,” I venture and jut out my hand to shake.

  “Woman of the hour,” Randall says and ignores my hand to hook his arm around me warmly. “Randall Ray, Damien’s other better half. It’s nice to finally meet you.” When he pulls back, he gestures to his family. “This is my wife, Lacy, and our little terror, Maggie.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Lacy says and shakes my hand politely. She has an angelic smile, but there are shards of sharpness in her eyes and I can tell she’s going to be the hard one to win over. She’s got a child at her side and another in the oven by the looks of it and she’s in full, protective mama bear mode.

  “You too,” I tell her and then crouch down to be level with the child. “And look at you!” I say. My voice hitches up a notch too high. I’m infamously bad with children and I’m doing my best. “I love your dress.”

  Maggie, thankfully, doesn’t seem to care because she lights up at the attention and grabs her dress. “Look, it spins!” She twirls around quickly and her dress billows out on either side of her. All the adults clap and cheer her on.

  The sound of someone clearing his throat directs our attention to Jack. He smiles like a shark as he says, “Don’t mean to interrupt. I believe I’m the only one sitting on Tomlin’s side of the aisle. Jack Raleigh.”

  Jack is as out of place as a man passing out business cards at a funeral. I feel a flush rise in my cheeks. Damien has a family and what do I have? I have Jack Raleigh, professional snake. They’re polite enough to him at least, shaking hands even as Damien’s jaw clenches.

  “Alright!” Tonya’s voice is surprisingly loud and booming coming from her tiny frame. “I hope everyone has had time to reunite and make introductions. For those of you who don’t know, my name is Tonya McKenzie and I will be your hostess for this evening.” She gets a couple claps from the guests who know her and she smiles magnanimously. Damn, she’s good.