Single Dad’s Fake Fiancée: A Cowboy Romance

by King, Imani

  The angel sighs. “I don’t think now is the time to have this conversation.”

  I sit up. No. Please have this conversation. I need to know.

  “Oh, would you rather take it outside?”

  “Not particularly. I’d rather we discuss it over coffee in a few weeks, or if that doesn’t work for you, some other public place after you’ve had time to…digest things.”

  “Digest what, exactly?” Reggie hisses. Yes, actually hisses, like a serpent.

  The angel shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Not now.”

  “The only reason why I haven’t smashed your face in is because she is here.” Reggie points at me.

  “I know. That’s why I don’t want to take it outside.”

  “Traitor,” my brother sneers.

  The angel grits his jaw.

  The promise of bloodlust hangs in the air. My mind races with nervous anticipation.

  Wait.

  Hold up.

  Reggie seems to think I…did it…with the angel. And wasn’t the angel talking about fatherhood earlier? Does that mean…?

  I bring my hand to my stomach. It doesn’t feel pregnant. Well, not that I’d know what “pregnant” felt like, but there doesn’t seem to be anything there except a generous helping of a few extra pounds.

  The angel notices my gesture immediately. “Don’t worry, Tachell. Our baby is fine.”

  Our baby!?!?!?!?

  “OUR BABY!?!?!?!?” A masculine voice bellows. And, not gonna lie, it freaks me out because for a second I thought my belly just roared.

  The angel ignores his friend. He places his hand on top of mine. I glance down at his white fingers intertwined with mine. “I’m sorry, Tachell,” the angel murmurs. “It should have been the first thing I said when you woke.”

  My throat is too full to speak.

  I’m having a baby? With this gorgeous man? How can this even be possible? Did I actually die and go to heaven, because this can’t possibly be real.

  And then my loud, obnoxious brother brings us all back down to earth. “Get your filthy mitts off her!”

  The angel works his jaw. “Reggie, I’ve tolerated your outbursts so far because you are my best friend and I know this is hard for you.”

  “You think this is hard for me?” His pointer finger stabs at his chest. “You better make things right, Easterbrook.”

  My entire body shudders. I don’t think the phrase “make things right” has ever sounded so much like “make things wrong.”

  The angel seems to have come to the same conclusion. “What, exactly, are you suggesting?”

  Reggie shakes his head. “You screwed with the wrong guy, Easterbrook. I’m not letting you get away with this shit. Don’t think your billions are getting you out of this one.”

  “Billions?” I whisper. Was he talking about…money?

  “This is Tachell,” Reggie continues. “Tachell. And I’m not leaving this room until you promise to make an honest woman out of her.”

  My heart stops.

  Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

  “I’m guessing you’re talking about marriage,” the angel says.

  Marriage? My heart flies out of my chest, does a turn around the room, lands on the metal frame holding up the curtain around my bed, and starts singing like Snow White just busted out her broom.

  My brother nods.

  “Well, that’s up to Tachell,” the angel says, removing his hand from my belly and placing it on my shoulder. “And you and I will both respect her decision.”

  Wait, did he just insinuate that the decision to marry was up to me? Alright, this better stop. Otherwise, my heart is going to explode.

  “I already asked her,” the angel continues. “And she said no.”

  “What?” I shriek.

  Both Reggie and the angel’s head whip towards me.

  I hold up my finger and wet my lips, ready to speak, but words fail me. This makes no sense.

  “‘Don’t force yourself, Tachell,” my brother tells me, eyebrows heavy with concern. “If you don’t want to marry this piece of shit, I’ll gladly…take care…of him for you.”

  All I have to say to that is another shrieking “What!?!?!”

  “Don’t worry. He’s not getting away with this,” Reggie mumbles.

  What the hell do I say to that? Actually, brother dearest, that’s exactly why I am worried!

  “I didn’t say no to him,” I blurt out.

  The angel’s grip on my shoulder tightens. Reggie frowns. “I don’t believe you. Are you just saying this because you’re worried about me kicking his ass?”

  The angel then does something very unangelic—he snickers and jokes, “I’d like to see you try, Jones.”

  My brother jumps to his feet. “That is it!”

  “No! Stop, both of you!” I yell.

  My brother cracks his knuckles again. “Look away, Tachell. This isn’t something a lady should see.”

  “Then it isn’t something a gentleman should do,” I shoot back.

  My brother shuts his eyes and dramatically pauses. “Sometimes, to protect a woman’s honor, you have to sacrifice your own.”

  Wow.

  Yeah, for a full two seconds, the room goes silent. Was this person actually related to me? Was the angel actually friends with him? Maudlin lines like that should only be uttered when accompanied by bagpipes, or whispered into the shadowy corners of dark, empty rooms. And do you know what? There were no bagpipes in the hospital, and every inch of white wall was humming with florescent light.

  I sigh. I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m pretty sure it was up to me to end this.

  Unfortunately, I don’t act fast enough, and the angel decides that the best way to diffuse this hostile situation is by saying: “Calm your tits, Reggie.”

  Oh God.

  Calm your tits?

  Is that even a thing you say to people?

  Is that a thing you say to men????

  I think that was just about the worst thing he could have said, and I’m vindicated when my brother gives a battle cry and charges across the room, slamming the angel against the wall.

  It’s at this moment that something else in my poor, battered hospital room slams—the door. “Oh my God! Tachell!” a breathless and deep feminine voice shouts. “I got here as fast as I could. Are you okay?”

  Her beautiful dark, concerned eyes are the same deep brown as her skin. Her two-toned hair is pulled back in a flawless bun, and gigantic golden hoop earrings sway back and forth on her neck. She rushes at me, only stopping when she’s collapsed on the floor by my side, grabbing me with her perfectly manicured hands.

  A crash behind us breaks the tender moment.

  She stands up and spins around. “Reggie? What the hell are you doing?”

  Reggie grits his teeth, refusing to stop his assault. “Teaching the Billion dollar asshole here a lesson.”

  There we go with another reference to billions. Is the angel…?

  “Well, you better teach him a lesson some other time,” the woman reprimands, “because you’re mom’s gonna be here soon and if she sees Preston with a black eye she’s gonna put two and two together and beat your ass.”

  With a reluctant growl, Reggie lets go. “Don’t think I’m forgetting this.”

  “Like he could forget,” the woman interjects.

  He frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean, Sondra?”

  She turns back around in a huff. “It means you’re being an idiot. And meanwhile, poor Tachell here has to watch the two of you go at it while she’s defenseless. You should be ashamed of yourself.” She takes my hand again. “Why were you fighting, anyway?”

  “Have you read the papers?” he asks.

  “You talking about that Billionaire’s Reluctant, Pregnant Bride article? Yeah, I saw it.” Sondra shakes her head. “Complete trash. No way would Tachell ever marry Easterbutt.”

  Easterbutt? What kind of stupid, childish nickname was
that? How do you even come up with a name like that? What does it mean? And was she talking about Easterbrook? Or, I guess I should say, Preston…?

  I look at him. He’s running his hand through his mussed hair. I realize he looks tired, and not from the fight. His cheekbones are hollow and his eyes are red. And, more than that, he seems lost.

  I reach out for him, but he’s too far away from me to get a good grip on him. My fingertips just barely brush the clean, cool fabric of his shirt.

  He glances at me, and my breath catches as I’m suddenly drowning in beautiful, brilliant blue.

  He inches towards me and my fingers slide from his elbow to his hand. I close my eyes, stifling a moan, as he envelopes me once again in his calming warmth. Everything feel so right that I almost don’t notice the bickering going on in the background.

  Almost, but not quite.

  “You don’t understand. This is about honor,” Reggie declares.

  “Yeah, and you should honor your sister’s decision to stick to her guns,” Sondra declares right back.

  “You don’t get it. Preston owes her. He needs to take responsibility and give her the life she’s always deserved.”

  “No, I don’t think you get it. Tachell requires more than a big wallet and good looks from her man. Isn’t that right, Tachell?”

  I grip the angel’s hand tight. “Um…actually…no.”

  Everyone turns to face me, concerned expressions on their faces.

  “I mean, maybe I should explain.” I have no idea who any of you are. I don’t even know who I am. The only thing I’m sure of is this feeling in my heart that cries out for the angel beside me.

  “Explain?” I notice Sondra’s voice has risen a few octaves. “What exactly do you need to explain?”

  I glance up into the angel’s face—no, Preston’s face. He was flesh and blood, not some heavenly creature. And yet, despite that, the bond between us felt fated. Divine. “This man is the father of my child,” I say hesitantly, still unable to quite believe it. “When I was unconscious, it was his voice that gave me hope, and his hands that gave me warmth. I don’t know what could have happened between us, but it must have been horrible. Otherwise, how could I possibly reject his proposal of marriage?” I squeeze his hand. “But I want you to know that I saw how concerned you were for my welfare, and for the welfare of our child. And, more than that, I saw your love. Right now, it is the only thing I can make sense of in this world. And so I must I forgive you for whatever you did, and hope that you can forgive me, too.”

  Silence.

  Preston’s eyes are glassy and wide. His lips tremble as they part. In fact, his entire body is shaking, and I know it’s because he wants to touch me—hold me—love me.

  Then, everything starts to happen in hyperspeed.

  “Oh my God!” Sondra wails. “Someone get a doctor!”

  Reggie’s already stumbling to the door, shouting for help.

  What? Why are they freaking out? All I did was explain how much Preston meant to me…

  Sondra grabs my hand away from Preston’s and starts crying into it. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetie. Whatever it is, it’s gonna be okay.” But it doesn’t sound like it’s going to be okay—it sounds like she just witnessed something horrific that cannot be unseen.

  Then, a smiling woman in a white suit enters. “Oh good! Tachell is up!”

  Sondra turns and stage whispers over her shoulder, “But something’s not right!

  The doctor frowns. “Oh?”

  “She’s acting weird,” Reggie whimpers.

  I glare at my brother. And like you’re not? You’re the last one who should be commenting on something that.

  “Just fix her!” Sondra cries.

  As the doctor takes my pulse, and my friend and brother fuss over every little thing, I glance up at the door.

  There’s a woman standing there. Her golden hair is swept back into an immaculate bun. She wears a peach colored tailored suit. A thick gold necklace hugs her neck, and chunky rectangular gold earrings hang from her ears.

  She catches me looking at her, but does not move away. Not immediately, anyway. Instead, her ruby red lips thin and her icy blue eyes narrow into lethal slits.

  I shiver, unable to help myself. Her calculating, threatening gaze truly terrifies me. But when I open my eyes to look back at the door, she’s gone.

  Chapter 34

  After a thorough examination, the doctor announces I have amnesia.

  “Okay,” Sondra whispers. “I can work with that.”

  Reggie gives me a short nod. “We’re gonna make this right,” he tells me.

  Make it right? Why don’t I believe him? Hey wait a minute, weren’t those the exact words he used when he was trying to get Preston to marry me?

  Preston says nothing. He simply leans against the far wall of the room, studying me with an unreadable expression.

  What are you thinking?

  “Tachell,” the doctor says my name like she’s repeated it a few times.

  I blink, returning my attention to her. “Oh, sorry. I just…lost track of time for a second.”

  Her eyes soften pityingly. “The good news is it doesn’t look like there’s any permanent damage.”

  “Except for the fact she can’t remember anything,” Sondra adds.

  The doctor nods. “Yes. Except for that.”

  “That’s a pretty big thing,” Sondra continues. “When is she going to be okay again?”

  The doctor now looks at her pityingly. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you. We will watch her and run more tests, but it’s impossible to know when her memory will return.”

  “But it will return, right?” Sondra prompts.

  The doctor sighs in a way that doesn’t inspire much confidence.

  Oh shit.

  “Oh shit!” Sondra whimpers.

  I glance back at Preston. His expression has darkened. Come closer, I think. Hold my hand again. The doctor’s voice drones on, interspersed with more of Sondra and Reggie’s well meant questions. I can’t make sense of any of it—I can’t focus on anything but him.

  I don’t understand my single-minded obsession with this man. How can my body already ache for him? My world before a few hours ago is nothing but darkness. And yet…I feel like I know him. Like I’ve known him for years.

  It makes no sense. I don’t remember a single thing about him. And yet…

  I shut my eyes and feel his hand again, gripping mine, comforting and warm. His voice.

  I love you.

  I almost see something. A beam of light. A world of aqua and deep green shadows. The warmth of his breath, of his touch. The softness of lips, even more tender than his sweet voice. And the words I’d waited what seems like a lifetime to hear.

  I’ve always loved you.

  But it’s nothing but a ripple on the surface of the dark pool of consciousness. Just when I think I have something to hold onto, it disappears again, receding back into the tide.

  I blink.

  He’s still looking at me.

  What are you hiding? I want to ask. I feel so much. I know you mean something to me. So how could I have refused you?

  The door flies open yet again and two people burst through. The large man that resembles an older Reggie, and the woman commands the attention and respect of the entire room just with her presence.

  I can tell she’s older from the silver strands of hair dusting her temples, and the wizened look in her eyes, but her poreless skin is smooth and the color of milk chocolate. She holds herself with class and a strength that hints at years of hard work and sacrifice.

  “Tachell,” she whispers, eyes filling with tears that don’t quite spill over to run down her cheeks. “Baby.”

  Suddenly, I’m embraced by a love that knows no boundaries. I grip her shoulders as she holds me close.

  “Mama,” I whisper.

  I may not remember her, but it doesn’t matter. I know who this person is.

  This is the woman
who brought me into this world. This is the woman who will always stand by me. Who loves me unconditionally. Who will still love me even if I never again find the person I once was.

  “Baby,” she whispers, kissing my forehead. “It will be alright.”

  And, for the first time since I woke up, I truly believe it will be.

  Chapter 35

  Time becomes a blur of tests, questions, and bright lights shining in my eyes.

  Reggie hangs around my hospital room like he’s cursed to haunt this place for all eternity.

  Sondra brings me old magazines, scissors, and tape. Apparently I’m an artist, and collage always puts me in a good mood. I don’t know about the artist thing, but she’s definitely right about the collage bit. Once I get started, I lose myself for hours.

  My mom and dad are always at my side. We play Gin, Poker, and Rummy 500. After a few hands, it’s not long before I’m beating them.

  “You were always a natural,” my dad says with a wink.

  “I think you’re letting me win,” I tell him.

  He looks shocked. “Ho! I’d never do such a thing!”

  My mom narrows her eyes at him. “Well, I can tell you one thing Tachell. I’m sure not letting you win. Be nice to your mama and help me out next hand, okay?”

  I grin and decide I will. It turns out that letting her win is far harder than actually winning.

  Sondra stops by again to drop off some romance novels featuring heroines “suffering” from amnesia.

  “Ugh,” I groan. “I don’t think I can read this.”

  “Why not?” she asks, offended.

  I hand her the book. “Look at this cover!”

  She peers down, scowling. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “What’s wrong is that it looks like the hero slipped something in her drink so he could cop a feel!”

  Her scowl deepens. “Oh. Well, that’s probably because he’s the hero’s evil twin brother. And she has them mixed up because… Amnesia? I don’t remember, it’s been a while since I read it. I think he kidnaps her and takes her on a Caribbean cruise. They do it on the beach and fall in love.”