My Big Fat Fake Engagement

by Landish, Lauren

  There’s a ding from my purse, and both of us pull back as if shot, our eyes wild with shock, desire, and a little bit of fear. I feel like a teenager who just got caught making out on the porch, honestly.

  “Ah . . . well, at least we know the chemistry won’t be a problem,” I joke weakly, my voice shaking and my breath coming in short, hard gasps. I can still feel his lips on my skin and the little trail he was starting to lick down my throat.

  “Nope, no problem at all . . . as long as I wear very tight underwear,” Kaede jokes as I climb off his lap. Looking down, I can see what he means, and I can’t help but lick my lips.

  It looks like he’s got a Hillshire Farms summer sausage in there, and I am suddenly starving. “Holy shit,” I whisper, meaning to think it, not say it aloud.

  He chuckles and adjusts himself, totally at ease. “Same, Courtney.” I meet his eyes, so hot and dark they look like coal. I feel it like a caress as he slowly drops his eyes from mine to my neck, to my chest, and lower.

  I am not nearly as comfortable as he is, so I wriggle around, trying to get some relief.

  “Oh, my phone!” I say, getting up on shaky legs and diving for my purse. I check the message, blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes as I do. “Jillian reminding me that she has a dentist appointment in the morning.”

  It’s not her fault, but I’m super pissed at Jillian right now. I was about to follow her great idea and get some dick . . . and a huge, honking Grade-A, prime dick at that . . . and she interrupted me.

  Maybe that’s a good thing, though. I don’t know if I could do this if I know what Kaede feels like inside me. It would make this too real for me, and I know that as well as I know I should go, no matter how much I want to pick up where we left off.

  “I should probably get home. Need a good shower before bed tonight.”

  “I need a cold one too,” Kaede says lightly.

  “I was more thinking about the pulse mode on my removable shower head, but sure, we can go with a cold shower if that sounds less desperate.” I try to make it sound like a joke, but it comes off too much like a needy moan for that.

  Kaede groans, and for a second I think he’s going to push me against the door, crush my lips in another kiss, and let the heat we’ve sparked burn it all down. Fuck tomorrow, fuck problems, let’s just get to it!

  “Fuck, woman,” Kaede breathes, thrilling me even as he steps back and opens his front door. “Are we going to be okay with this?”

  I nod, pausing to give him a kiss on the cheek so fast that it’s barely there, or else we’ll end up in bed together. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

  As I crank the engine on my car and pull away, I check my rearview mirror. He’s still standing there watching me, his huge shoulders blocking out most of the light from inside and turning him into a large, sexy shadow.

  And I’m not sure that’s true at all.

  I’m in way over my head.

  Chapter 11

  Kaede

  I was thinking more about the pulse mode on my shower head . . .

  Those words have haunted me all night, turning my dreams into an erotic mix of images, tastes, sights, and sounds. And I have a significant bank of Courtney saved from over the years.

  The feeling of her lips, the way her tongue met mine with such hunger. As much as I’ve felt for a while, last night was a shot of Fireball straight to my dick.

  The sight of her dancing in class, the way her ass flexes as she works herself up and down, the way she could use those same muscles to ride my cock.

  The satin skin on her lower back and the soft, invisible little hairs there that had me wanting to explore deeper and lower . . . with my tongue.

  The way her eyes looked, the moans she made when I found that spot on her neck . . .

  Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I kick off the sheets at five in the morning, heading to the bathroom, my dick leading the way.

  The water hits my neck and shoulders, beating back soreness but not helping with the images in my head. The faint scent of soap has me wondering what Courtney’s shower smells like . . . and what she looked like with her showerhead.

  With that picture coming to life in my mind, I reach down to wrap my fist around my aching hardness, which jumps in my grip. I stroke fast and hard, my eyes falling shut as my brain overloads with my fantasies.

  Courtney’s here, in the shower with me . . . tits pressed against the tile and that ass pressed back as she comes on my cock . . . calling out my name.

  “Fuck! Court!” I curse through gritted teeth as I explode, my cock spewing shot after shot of my thick cream. I thump my forehead against the tile, still pumping until the last droplet’s squeezed out. I pant, still just as frustrated because I know, deep in my soul, that actually being with Courtney would be so much better than any fantasy I can create.

  I can’t wait to see her again.

  I head to One Life, and things are a bit closer to normal with Ross and me, but I have this nagging sense of guilt over kissing Courtney. It doesn’t make sense. We’re all adults, and Ross has got to know that will happen to sell this setup. But a little smooch is one thing while what we did last night is another.

  We’re both hurting after yesterday’s Beast Mode session, so we take it light, doing some mobility work for our shoulders and hips and then some abs.

  We’re lying in the floor, grunting our way through our third set of Russian twists with heavy medicine balls, when something catches my eye. Or more precisely, someone.

  “Shit,” I hiss under my breath.

  “What?” Ross says, taking the hint and keeping quiet.

  I keep doing twists, not wanting to seem like I’ve even noticed her. “Missy. AJ. Two o’clock. Be discreet.”

  Ross laughs as though I said something funny. He’s good at acting normal when shit’s flying. He’s learned the hard way through experience.

  “What are they doing? Are you seeing this? No! Don’t look, that’s what she wants.” Ross is right, and I lie flat on the floor, my eyes on the ceiling while he does a few more twists so he can spy. “AJ has her in the splits with her front leg lifted on a squat bench. I will say . . . she’s very . . . flex-i-ble.” He looks down at me, his brow lifted. “You sure you’re not feeling that?”

  I frown hard. “No.”

  “On the move,” Ross says.

  We force ourselves through more abs than we’d planned while we keep an eye on Missy . . . and AJ.

  Missy alternates eye-fucking me from across the room and turning to stick her ass my way. Every time she bends forward to touch her toes, her tiny shorts creep higher. Every guy in the gym is following her with his eyes, damn near drooling. Several of the women are starting to look angry or disgusted.

  “Wonder if ‘Daddy’ knows what she’s up to while she’s doing her research.”

  “Either way, it can’t keep happening.” Ross sounds on the verge of stalking over right here and now. We’ve got rules in place for the gym, dress codes. And she’s breaking them.

  “I agree. AJ seems to be handling it pretty well, though, don’t you think?” I am proud of my training team, and AJ is my best. While Missy is flirting with him and he’s engaging with her banter and desire for Cirque du Soleil level stretches, he’s staying impressively professional.

  Missy spreads her legs wide in a straddle stretch and lays her chest forward to the floor. AJ moves behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders and pressing her forward even more. She reaches her arms toward me even though I’m across the gym, and when she sees me and Ross watching, she gives me a salacious wink. AJ must say something about her feet because she slowly flexes them, increasing the stretch even more.

  I can almost hear wood popping all over the gym . . . ping, pew, boom. Different sound effects for different folks, ya know.

  Ross and I get up, putting our medicine balls away. AJ coaches Missy through several more flexibility moves. Staying quiet even though there are no members around, I tell Ross, “We don�
��t have kids running around up here, but her outfits are getting smaller and smaller. She’s damn near falling out of that top, a breath away from a nip slip, and you can see her pussy trying to eat those shorts. Munch-munch-munch. I’ll talk to her.”

  “No, it needs to come from me,” Ross says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “If it comes from you, it’s going to seem personal, another brush-off, and we can’t afford that. You need to watch your back. She’s definitely still got you in her sights.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “I’ll try to spin it positively. Maybe tell her it’s distracting staff, and that’s a safety issue. Think she’ll take that as a compliment?” he says with the charming smile that has gotten him out of trouble his whole life. “Besides, I know Kayla’s playing coy, but I have a feeling if she sees AJ talking to Missy while she’s bent up like a bendy straw, there might be an axe murder in the gym. And I don’t want to lose our two best.”

  I ignore the Missy issue, praying and trusting that Ross can handle her without causing a trickle-up problem with Jeffrey. “You catching that vibe from AJ and Kayla too?” I ask, pleasantly distracted. It’s nice to think about someone else’s relationship issues for a hot second and not mine.

  “Absolutely. Do we have a no fraternization policy? If not, we might need to get one for AJ’s sake,” Ross jokes. “Oh, before I forget . . . dinner tonight. My place.”

  “What for?” I ask while mentally calculating how many Monsters I’m going to need to chug to get through a long day and a late night. I hate to drink them, though, so maybe I can catch a nap during the early afternoon down time instead. One of the perks of being the boss.

  “You’ve got an announcement to make, remember? And so do I.”

  “Not me. Courtney and I agreed to keep our whole deal quiet. Apparently, being an Andrews comes with some baggage, and being a female Andrews comes with an entire suite of it.”

  Ross eyes me incredulously. “You think for one second that you, or Courtney, are going to keep this from Abi or Violet? And you think they’ll forgive any of us if you don’t tell them? Fuck that, I like sleeping with my wife and not on the couch. So dinner, my place, eight o’clock. I’ll make sure Court’s there, even if I have to call in a bomb threat to the office.”

  He’s got a point.

  “Dinner tonight, then.”

  * * *

  I’ve been in Ross’s penthouse as much as in my own home. It’s still the same place it was before he got married, but it feels different now. No more cold bachelor pad—he was the king of contemporary minimalist design, even worse than me—but now it’s warm, partially from Violet’s amazing design skills, but mostly, it’s just her. She has this joie de vivre about her and infuses everywhere she goes with that energy.

  Plus, she’s a damn good cook who enjoys letting her inner chef out as often as possible. It’s not an every night thing, especially considering the late hours we all keep, but I know Ross has to work to keep the pounds from creeping in from Violet’s delicious family recipes.

  As an ‘adopted’ member of the family, I get to reap the benefits of Nana Angela’s recipes too.

  Tonight’s Mexican night, though, which seems to be the cause of Violet’s phone argument with her grandmother. “Nana, Ross loves my lasagna, but I can’t make it every night of the week!”

  “Why? Who doesn’t like lasagna?” Angela asks. “If I have to come over there, I’m gonna—”

  “Nana, we have guests,” Vi says, glancing over her shoulder and tossing us a thumbs-up. Like that’s going to stop Nana’s language. The woman gives zero fucks.

  We all take sips of our beers and wines, not wanting to get in the middle of that battle. Violet can handle her Nana, but the rest of us will end up smacked with a rolling pin.

  Almost the whole crew is already here tonight. In addition to Ross and Violet, Abi’s here and seems to be enjoying the way Ross is flitting around the kitchen, helping wherever Violet lets him. As Violet’s best friend and the secret orchestrator of their relationship, I think she feels some creative pride at their overwhelming cuteness. Like damn swans in love, wrapping around each other, those two. Violet’s assistant, Archie, is here too. He’s been semi-adopted by everyone, mainly because he’s completely irreverent and says things that are completely wrong, but he’s also funny as hell.

  “And you serve them that . . . that . . . that puttanata?”

  “Ooh, I know that one!” Ross says gleefully. Standing up, he goes over to Violet, wrapping his hands around her waist and talking to her phone. “Angela, blame me. I asked your beautiful, wonderful, loving granddaughter for sour cream enchiladas as a treat for all the hard work I’ve been putting in at the gym. Plus, I made a très leches cake today for this sweet tooth of hers. I wouldn’t dream of serving it with your lasagna. It wouldn’t be right. But I promise, we’ll have your famous pasta carbonara tomorrow, Nana. Agreed?”

  “Si, si!” Angela, who’s always been charmed by Ross, agrees. “Feed her the cake. And dessert tomorrow, too! Have Violet make you some cannoli!”

  “Oh, I’m sure Violet enjoys Ross’s cannoli regularly,” Archie quips, making everyone laugh. “Too bad she won’t share!” He looks Ross up and down, and Ross blindly flips Archie off as he burrows into Violet’s neck to plant kisses behind her ear.

  Even Abi laughs at that, and a minute later, Ross comes back over while Vi continues talking with her grandmother. I’ve seen these conversations, and there’s a reason Vi’s got a phone dock in the kitchen. Angela can drain some batteries with her chatter, that’s for sure.

  “You handled that like a pro. I’m impressed,” Abi teases her brother.

  “Thankfully, we mostly only deal with the locals,” Ross says in relief. “Vi’s mom handles a lot of the distant relatives, so we’ve got sort of a buffer. Did you know they like to talk every month? That doesn’t sound bad, but there’s so. Many. Of. Them.” He shakes his head, like even the math on that hurts his brain cells.

  The doorbell rings, and Archie’s on his feet before anyone else, sashay boogieing his way to the entranceway and opening it up. “Ooh, look who’s here! Come on in, Miss Thang!”

  “Hey, Archie,” Courtney says, air kissing with Archie. He’s the only person I’ve ever seen her do that with. Hell, Archie might be the only person I’ve ever seen do air kisses, and he does it with everyone, friends and strangers alike. It’s considered a huge diss if he refuses to air kiss your cheek. One I don’t ever want to receive.

  Abi hops up, hugging her sister, and Ross glances back and forth from Courtney to me. Once greetings are done, Courtney and I give each other awkward looks as she enters the living room. How do we play this? Should we stand together? Apart? I don’t know what to do. I don’t think Courtney does, either.

  Ross said we should make an announcement, and I guess we’re going to have to tell people, but no one in this room is going to believe this. They know Courtney and I haven’t been dating. And after Ross and Vi’s fake wedding-turned-real love scenario, everyone will instantly jump to it being a scam or scheme of some type.

  By some insane twist of fate, it’s not even Abi’s scheme this time. And she’s the resident purveyor of weird, insane, and fucked up.

  Nope, this one’s all mine. How did that happen?

  But I look across the room and remember.

  And if anyone can make this crazy idea work, it’s Courtney. We’re two peas in the same pod, a couple of workaholics deciding to do the proper thing in the next step up the corporate ladder. Wham, bam, all you’re missing are some fireworks.

  Except we had plenty of fireworks last night. That kiss was a complete Fourth of July.

  Vi eventually finishes up her conversation with her grandmother, and minutes later, she sets a beautiful plate of enchiladas smothered in a white sauce that I think even Angela would be proud of in the middle of the dining room table.

  “Let’s eat,” Vi says, a little smile on her face.

  We all scoot aroun
d the table to take our seats, and Courtney and I make it a point to sit together. Serving dishes are passed, each of us filling our plates with enchiladas, chips and salsa, queso, rice, and beans.

  I see Courtney eye the small setup of nachos I made with the chips and queso. She gives me a soft smile of recognition that warms me. Or maybe that’s the salsa.

  “Ooh! This stuff is spicier than I am!” Archie says, fanning his open mouth. “And I’m one hot tamale.”

  “Need another drink?” Violet says, starting to get up, but Ross stops her, saying that he’ll get it.

  Archie chugs the glass of ice water and Ross sits back down at the head of the table. He clears his throat. “Uhm, Kaede? Didn’t you have something you wanted to share with the class?”

  “Oh, my gravy and biscuits, they’re fucking!” Archie gasps, clapping and snapping his hands as he looks from me to Courtney. “Yass, girl. Get you some of that K-Dawg meat buffet. And tell Daddy Archie all about it, slowly and in detail.”

  “What? No!” I argue, though fucking Courtney is exactly what I wanted to do last night. And this morning. And every morning for years when I worked at Andrews. And every night when she leaves One Life after her class. But none of them know that.

  But it doesn’t matter. The damage is done and everyone is talking at once.

  What’s going on? What does he mean? Is that true?

  I take Courtney’s hand, needing us to present a united front on this and praying she’s still with me. “We’re engaged!”

  Everything stops. I’m not even sure the clocks are ticking, it’s so silent. Everyone looks at me, Ross with a bit of ‘told ya so’, while Violet and Abi both look at me in utter shock. Archie, for his part, just looks like the cat who ate the cream.