Single Dad’s Fake Fiancée: A Cowboy Romance

by King, Imani

  Damn. This sure escalated fast. And because of that, I didn’t think I needed to stick around for the finale.

  The lobby erupts like a maggot-infested carcass as I push through to freedom. Or almost freedom. Because right behind me is security.

  Shit!

  I take off down the street. Shouts roar behind me. Immediately, my side starts to ache from that mocha I indulged in earlier. God damn! I always refused to go on runs with my best friend, Sondra. It would be a waste of my time, I explained. I could be doing art.

  Of course, after that, I’d park my ass on the couch with a pint of ice cream and watch Broad City.

  Sondra would return all sweaty and tired, rolling her eyes at me. I’d offer her a few consolatory scoops of ice cream, which she’d of course accept. And I’d return my attention to the TV, feeling like I’d come out ahead. But the thing is, it’s impossible to come out ahead when you tire yourself out after half a block.

  Damn! I ran a seven minute mile back in High School. What the hell happened? It’s only been seven years!

  I look over my shoulder, heaving.

  An army of angry guys with shaved heads and flaring nostrils are charging at me.

  Fuuuuck! I close my eyes and dig deep, trying to find a strength that has been buried by junk food and reruns of crappy reality TV show. What the hell have I been doing with my life?!? And when that strength doesn’t magically surface (big surprise, I know), I pray to God for help.

  And then God answers my prayers. Sort of. Because all of a sudden, the air is filled with Preston Easterbrook’s commanding voice.

  “STOP! YOU’LL HURT THE BABY!”

  My stomach drops. He did not just shout that on a crowded New York street. But oh, he did. The paparazzi’s ears perk up like a cat’s when the can opener goes off. They whip around and hold their flashing cameras up in the air, trying to catch something…anything. Because, while they most likely don’t fully realize what’s happened yet, they know instinctively that the words “Preston Easterbrook” and “baby” mean money.

  The security stops chasing me and starts restraining the crowd. I’m very thankful for this. However, I’d be even more thankful if they didn’t also just clear a pathway from from the entrance of Easterbrook tower straight to me.

  I look up to find Preston making very good use of this walkway. His eyes blaze. His jaw is set and determined. And he strides towards me with the calculating confidence of a man who has just successfully cornered his prey.

  Oh no. I look behind me, but bodyguards are everywhere. I’d have to muscle through them and the paparazzi to break free. The only other way to run is directly into Preston’s arms.

  Turns out I don’t have to run into them, because Preston does that for me.

  His hands shake as they hold me close, pushing me into his hard, muscular chest. “Tachell,” he whispers, his warm lips against my ear, “never run from me again.”

  Oh man! I feel like my mom just caught me trying to feed broccoli to the dog under the table. “W-when did I ever run from you?”

  His perfect muscles in his torso strain as he brings me in even closer. “What the hell would you call what just happened?”

  “I’d call that you being an asshole.”

  He sighs, gently pulling away. When I look up, I’m surprised to find him smiling.

  “I’ll work on that.” His expression sobers. “Is it really mine?”

  What the hell? “Of course it’s yours! Do you think I’d drop everything and race over here so you’d be the first to know some other dude had knocked me up?”

  His eyes start twinkling. “I’m the first person you told?”

  “Well…yeah. You’re the dad. I felt like you should know.”

  “Oh Tachell,” he whispers, pulling me into his arms again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Well, it’s not too surprising since we only used a condom the second, third, and fourth times.” We did remember a few times. It was important to remember that we were like 30% responsible.

  He lets go of me and takes a deep breath. “Tachell, I will take care of you. And, more than that, I will be the supportive partner you deserve. I dedicate my life to you and to our child.”

  “You don’t have to go that far,” I tell him, though it truly warmed my heart that he sounded like he wanted to be in the child’s life.

  “No. I have to go farther.”

  Farther? What is he talking about? How do you even go farther than—

  He drops on one knee and takes my hand.

  The crowd starts screaming. I might even scream, too, if I wasn’t so damn confused. Especially since I’m pretty sure the last time this guy got down on one knee for me he had proceeded to ask if I wanted to pull his finger.

  “Tachell,” he whispers, grabbing my hand.

  Wait…he wasn’t going to ask me again was he? Surely he was a little more mature than that.

  “I know I haven’t always been the best to you, but I swear, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he continues.

  I gulp. “Okay?”

  His grip on my hand tightens with determination. Slowly, he brings my knuckles to his lips and then gives them softest, sweetest kiss I’ve ever received.

  And then things start to get weird.

  “Marry me,” he whispers.

  The crowd starts shrieking. I must not have heard him correctly. “Say again?”

  Deep blue eyes I could drown in stare straight into mine. “Marry me, Tachell. Make me the luckiest man in the world.”

  Okay, was I hallucinating? Did I fall and hit my head back there? Or fall into a portal and enter a different dimension? IS THIS ANCIENT SCOTLAND?

  I glance down. Nope, Preston isn’t wearing a kilt. Which is too bad, because his calves are damn sexy…

  No. I did not just have that stupid thought! I shake my head. What was wrong with me? Where, where the hell was I? Because this sure wasn’t my reality! In my reality, Preston and I hated each other. Maybe I should remind him of this.

  “We can’t get married. We hate each other.”

  For a second, another emotion I’ve never seen on Preston flashes in his eyes. It almost looks like…sadness.

  “No we don’t,” he says.

  “Yes we do. You’ve done nothing but make my life a living hell since the day we met. And I’ve repeatedly kicked you for it. Literally. You used to wear shin guards to my house, remember?”

  “Well…that was unfortunate.”

  Yeah, unfortunate was one way to put it. “What are you trying to say exactly?”

  He squeezes my hand. “That only one of us hates the other.”

  Okay. Back up.

  Back way the fuck up.

  Does that mean he was serious about that free mammogram thing? Was that him trying to hit on me? Seriously? I didn’t think it was possible for a guy to strike out so hard. If it were anyone other than Preston, I’d feel bad for him.

  He presses another impossibly soft kiss on the back of my hand. “I love you, Tachell. I always have. I always will.”

  Alright. There was only one explanation for everything that had just occurred: it wasn’t actually happening.

  I was dreaming. I’d been having a lot of dreams featuring Preston lately, along with the obnoxiously amazing orgasms only he could give me. Come to think of it, they were more like nightmares. Yeah, nightmares where I writhed beneath his godly body in unholy ecstasy. I swear, the things he could do with his tongue weren’t possible unless it was forked. He’d made a deal with a sex demon, and now he was invading my subconscious while I lay defenselessly in bed.

  Yes. That was it. Or at least it made far more sense than the other explanation—that he actually wanted to marry me.

  But in the end it didn’t matter if I was dreaming or awake. I needed to get out of here before I lost my mind.

  I yank my hand from his grasp, turn, and start running.

  It’s a bit unfortunate that I somehow forgot
about all the screaming wall of bodyguards and paparazzi, though. Also unfortunate was the fact that my eyes were right in line with some dude’s flashing camera.

  For a second, the world goes white. I know I should stop running, but I don’t. Instead, I dig deep again, and find a bit of that strength that had eluded me before. Strength that launches me forward right into said camera.

  Pain shoots through my head. The screaming roars in my ears as something else hits me. An elbow, maybe? I don’t even realize I’m falling until the back of my head smashes against the ground.

  Then everything goes silent, and the blinding white light recedes into darkness.

  Chapter 32

  I’m sinking, or maybe floating. I don’t know. I can’t feel anything except a damp chill. All I can make out is darkness. Far off in the distance, something beeps. If I can hear it, that must mean I’m still alive, right? I focus on the soft, steady sound and try to imagine what it could be.

  It stops.

  No.

  I search the darkness once more, but all I find is silence.

  No. Come back. Please, don’t leave me.

  It’s getting colder. Something aches and throbs in the center of my chest. My heart?

  It starts throbbing faster. Too fast.

  This isn’t right. Something is wrong. It shouldn’t be beating that fast. Why can’t I see anything? Where am I? What’s going on?

  A low, masculine voice cuts through the panic with three little words.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Why are you sorry?

  There’s a long pause. A choking sound. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats.

  The aching in my chest returns. I want to comfort him, but I don’t know why. I don’t even know who he is.

  And then, I feel it. Something warm in that world of cold. It envelops me. Cradles me.

  It’s a hand, I realize. A hand holding my own. I wish I could be held by these long, strong fingers forever.

  But even though the hand is giving me so much, it’s sad. No, sorry. I don’t want it to be sorry anymore. It’s holding me—I want to hold it back.

  There’s a sudden stab of pain as my extremities start to feel again, but it’s quickly replaced by a tingling pins and needles sensation. I fight through it. I won’t let pain stop me. I want to reach that voice. I start to shake.

  “Tachell?” the voice whispers.

  The name means nothing to me, but I can now hear a hint of relief in that sad voice. I squeeze with everything I have.

  It isn’t much, but it’s enough.

  “Tachell!” the voice cries out.

  I can’t keep it up, though. The darkness is coming back. My strength is fading.

  But that hand doesn’t let me go. It holds onto me like he will never let me go. And before the darkness takes me completely, I think I smile.

  ***

  I open my eyes and immediately wince.

  It’s too much. Swiftly, I close my eyes again but I can still feel it in the back of my skull. It hurts—everything hurts. My throat is dry. My head pounds. My shoulders are stiff. And yet…it’s welcome. All of it. Because it means I’m still alive.

  I force my eyes open again and keep them open this time, fighting against my instinct to close them. And even though it hurts to look at the world, I’m happy. For too long I’ve lived in darkness, and now everything is bright.

  “Tachell?”

  My heart beats faster. He’s here. The owner of that soothing voice, of those warm hands. I don’t dare close my eyes. I want to see him before he disappears.

  “Tachell,” I hear again, this time closer. Minty breath spills over my cheeks, along with the scent of something richer and masculine. Suddenly, my heart is beating quickly for a completely different reason.

  What is happening? Is this normal?

  A warm hand rubs my shoulders and caresses my hand.

  “Stay with me,” he whispers. “Please, Seashell. Stay with me. I’ll do anything, I promise. I don’t care if you hate me. Just don’t leave again.”

  I turn my head to the voice Slowly, shapes come into focus. Hair so blond it looks like a halo when the light hits it. Strong, sculpted cheekbones. Lightly tan skin. Eyes such a deep and penetrating blue that it strips me bare. And lips so soft I wonder if kissing him would taste like heaven.

  An angel. I’m being held by an angel.

  And, being an angel, I know that I should have purely platonic thoughts but…

  Um…

  Okay, let’s just say “I don’t” and leave it at that.

  I don’t know why he pulled me from the darkness, or why he’s stayed by my side. Maybe to take me to the afterlife, or maybe to give me new life. Either way, it doesn’t matter. My heart has already decided it will follow him anywhere.

  He stands, pulling away from me.

  “Wait!” I reach out, grabbing his shirt. “Don’t leave!”

  He turns slowly, frowning. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m just calling in the doctor.”

  The doctor? A quick glance around shows me that I’m in a hospital. I sit up, wincing.

  “Hey, hey,” he whispers, and again those warm hands rub my body. “Don’t push yourself. You’ve been out for a few hours.”

  A few hours? I feel like I’ve been sleeping for centuries. Why, I can’t even remember a time before the darkness.

  “Your parents has been notified. Sondra is on her way over, as is Reggie. Bastard’s phone went straight to voicemail, and he had the gall to yell at me for it. But that’s Reggie for you. He’s got a serious soft spot for his twin sister.”

  My heartbeat starts to escalate. What is this man talking about?

  The monitor by the bed starts beeping.

  “Hey,” the man whispers. “It will be alright. I’m going to call in a doctor—”

  I grab his shirt tighter. “Don’t.”

  He breathes deeply. His warm fingers gently trace my hairline. “I’ll be right here, alright? I’m just going to use the phone on the wall.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah. I promise. I wouldn’t leave even if you asked me to.”

  Relieved, I let go. “Good.”

  He has an odd expression on his face, like that wasn’t the response he expected to get. But before I have time to think more on it, he picks up the phone. “Tachell Jones is awake…She seems stable…Yeah, she can talk…Okay.” He hangs up. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  He looks down, sighing. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  My stomach drops. Oh God. Anything that can upset the angel this much must be horrible. He’s so strong and beautiful. Every part of him, perfection. I’m sure even the parts I can’t see are perfect. Not that I’m thinking of them, or imagining what he’d look like without his shirt…

  Okay. You’ve only been conscious a few minutes. Get it under control, girl!

  “I told them I was your fiance.”

  “You did?”

  “Well, they actually assumed based on what happened, but…I think that’s part of the reason why I’m still in here. I mean, I’m also the father, but generally it’s only family allowed.”

  Wait…father? FATHER?!?!? Oh God, please tell me I didn’t just fantasize about seeing my dad naked!

  I vomit a little bit in my mouth. “Y-you’re my dad?”

  He frowns. “What?”

  “You said father.”

  “Yeah, of the baby.”

  “Um…what baby?”

  He kneels down beside the bed, concern etched into his features. “Tachell, do you know who I am?”

  I know I should answer: I have no idea who you are. But I can’t bring myself to say it because I feel like I do know.

  He’s the warm hand in the cold.

  He’s the lone voice in the darkness.

  He’s the only thing I do know.

  And having him look at me like this—ask me like this—hurts so bad that I can’t put it into words.

  “Oh
shit, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he whispers. He wets his lips, about to say something else, when the door flies open.

  My head whips up to the door just in time to see a very large black man glaring with deadly intent at the angel. “Easterbrook,” he rasps menacingly, raising his hands to crack his knuckles. “Get the fuck away from my sister.”

  Chapter 33

  So, apparently I have a brother.

  A very big, very intimidating, very protective brother.

  And right now he’s super pissed.

  I’d like to say I’m glad he’s not mad at me, but at the moment all I can feel is fear for the angel’s life.

  I think the angel is a little afraid, too. “Now Reggie, your sister is an adult.”

  The power of reason has no affect on Reggie. “You make me sick.”

  The angel tries again. “She’s had a lot happen today and she just woke up. You’re scaring her.”

  Reggie then twists his lips into the kind of smile nightmares are made of. “Are you sure she’s the one I’m scaring?”

  Alright, I think it’s time to intervene. “I’m sure that I’m the one you’re scaring.”

  Reggie’s head whips towards me, and his entire demeanor changes. “Oh, Tachell. I was so worried. Are you okay?”

  I don’t think it’s possible for my eyes to bug out any further than they are right now. He was glaring laser death rays at the angel…but he’s looking at me like I’m a basket full of mewing kittens and he’s trying to bottle feed them all at once.

  “I don’t think she’s okay,” Reggie announces. “Where is the doctor?”

  “On his way. She’ll be here any minute.”

  “Why isn’t she here now? Why did they leave you alone in the room with her?”

  “Now, Reggie, calm down…”

  Wrong thing to say. Reggie leaps up and shakes his finger in the angel’s face. “Did you fuck my sister, Easterbrook?”

  My heart gallops out of my chest. Oh my God…Did he? Did we…?

  No way.

  No fucking way.

  I’d remember bumping uglies with him even if it happened. You don’t forget things like that. He is an angel. I figured even having those thoughts before would give me a one way ticket to hell. One night with him? Oh, I don’t even want to know what kind of damage that would wreck on my poor soul, but I’m pretty sure it would be worth it.