Weekend Wife: A Fake Fiancée Romantic Comedy Standalone

by Erin McCarthy

  I didn’t want them to ring hollow or scare her.

  “I want you,” I murmured, my voice rough.

  “I want you too,” she whispered and I knew she meant more than sex, just like I did.

  How had a pair of brown eyes and a poodle skirt torn down the façade of my life and exposed me to everything I had been missing?

  I didn’t know and truthfully didn’t care. I eased her bra straps down off of her shoulders and followed the path with my lips, undoing the clasp on her back at the same time. Her bra slipped down between us, caught by my belt buckle, exposing her breasts to me. Leah was all natural. I took my time tasting her, teasing her, enjoying every little hitch of breath and sigh of pleasure she gave.

  When I undid her pants, she shifted her hips back to let the bra fall to the floor. She let go of my belt loops and ran her hands over my chest. I didn’t even consider speaking. There was nothing to say that would be right or enough or important without shattering the deep growing bond between us. I used my lips to brush along her jaw, the corners of her mouth, the delicate skin at the peak between her cheek and her eye, holding her while I did, hands gliding over her abdomen, the small of her back, up to her shoulder blades.

  I lost any sense of time. There was just me and Leah and a hushed room.

  When I eased down her zipper, the pants gave in to gravity and dropped. She stepped out of them and I divested myself of my white shirt. Not wanting her to worry about the damn clothes, I just bent and picked up the pants. I folded them while drawing her bottom lip into my mouth. She gave a soft gasp that had me hard as steel.

  I set them on the bench at the foot of the bed, then removed my own pants. I just tossed them behind me, not giving a fuck. When I turned back, she had sat down on the bench and was reaching for the waistband of my boxer briefs. For half a second I debated taking her and tossing her on the bed, not wanting to lose the upper hand on my control, but then she pulled my cock out. I decided I wanted to see her mouth wrapped around me more than I wanted to direct every move.

  Leah was running her hand over the smooth flesh with one hand and shoving down my briefs with the other. She gazed up at me and it was the sexiest expression I had ever seen. She looked vulnerable and beautiful and… devoted to me.

  I gripped the sides of her head, burying my fingers in her hair, and I guided her down onto me, wanting to test myself, see how long I could let her suck. The slickness of her tongue eased down my cock and I gritted my teeth, knowing this was going to be torture.

  Knowing I was going to love every fucking second of it.

  I had a mouth full of Grant and I had never felt more powerful in my entire life. It had been impulse to sit down, but now I loved that I had. He was gripping my hair so hard, the strands tugged at the roots, pain occasionally flaring, and he was completely silent. Which told me he was using every shred of self-control to stay that way. Like he didn’t trust himself not to explode.

  Enclosing his shaft with my hand, I took the full length of him over and over, as his hard cock grew slicker and slicker. He was so hard I had to work to open myself for him, and I could feel the unleashed power behind him. His thighs were clenched, his grip growing tighter with each pass. He wanted to drive his cock into my mouth, that was clear. Take over. Get dirty and rough and possessive. Part of me wanted to let him. Part of me wanted to use this to hold him just slightly away from me before we both fell head over ass into something neither one of us could predict would work.

  It was scary as hell.

  Which is why I didn’t want to look into his eyes. Those stunning green eyes that had known a lifetime of reserve, and not much love.

  Because I loved him and I was afraid for him to see that.

  I wanted this. Him and me and hot, sexy nights.

  Forever.

  That’s when I knew that he needed to let go, just as much as I did.

  Nostrils flaring, I pulled back. I stared up the length of his muscular chest. “Would it be crazy if I said that I’m falling in love with you?” I whispered, going for broke. Maybe that made me ordinary, as Gigi has called me.

  Maybe it made me stupid.

  But I was always a woman who went for what she wanted.

  Grant said it was real and I believed him.

  He tensed and his grip on my hair loosened. He shook his head slowly. “Not crazy at all. Because I’m falling in love with you too.”

  He pulled me to my feet, our warm skin brushing close. Grant’s gaze met mine and he cupped my cheeks, kissing me softly. With a tenderness that made me want to cry.

  “Leah, Leah, and Leah,” he said.

  I laughed softly. “That’s my name.”

  But he shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. Leah. My favorite in any category.”

  My heart squeezed. “I feel the same way.”

  “Actually,” he said. “There are no categories. There’s only you.”

  I might as well have melted. That’s the way I felt. No longer flesh, no longer bone. Just liquid and spilling over outside of myself. Without any thought from me a sound came out of my mouth, one of passion and desperation, that had Grant lifting me up by the hips and wrapping me around his legs.

  We kissed with tangled tongues and hot pants of love and desperation. He gripped my ass and I clung to his neck. I had my panties on still and I rose up and down, urgently grinding against his cock, wanting more, wanting everything. My nipples brushed against his hard chest, goose bumps racing down my arms.

  Grant tore aside the scrap of lace that was my panties and rocked up into me with a surge that had me gasping for air. All that hot hard cock deep inside my wet and welcoming body was everything I could ever want. He took me fast, urgently, and I held his shoulders, head back, soft cries escaping before I could stop them.

  My orgasm had me clawing at Grant with my fingernails, voice rising on a careening moan of sheer pleasure. My inner walls held on to him, and I was shocked at the power of it. Before I could recover, Grant dropped me on the bed without breaking our connection. He started to move inside me again, one palm next to my head, eyes boring into mine.

  Emotion swelled up in my chest and I felt like I could cry. My body was on fire with passion, another orgasm swelling on the heels of the first, and my heart was overwhelmed.

  “I love you,” he said.

  Any sense of holding back shattered with those words. He wasn’t falling in love. He was saying he loved me.

  My instinct was to close my eyelids against the intensity of Grant, but I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to see what was in his pale green eyes and remember this forever.

  “I love you, too,” I said, lifting my hips to meet him.

  Grant kept his eyes locked on mine as he exploded inside me.

  He collapsed onto me and we lay there, stunned, hot, intertwined.

  Neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke.

  Sometimes you just need to stay silent and let the moment ride.

  We fell asleep that way, his heavy weight and warm breath cocooning me.

  “You’re going where?” I gaped at Grant, still concentrating on prying my eyes open. “And why wasn’t I invited?”

  “Golfing. We’ll be back by two.”

  Um, what the actual fuck? I hadn’t expected him to hold my hand all day but one, his family was nuts. Two, he’d told me he loved me the night before. Didn’t that count for at least one day of kissing and adoring gazes aimed at me over bagels and lox? “You’re seriously leaving me alone here all day? Why can’t I go with you?”

  “Do you golf?” He looked skeptical and not at all like he was going to miss me.

  Was I wrong in thinking he should miss me? It seemed like an appropriate response to you know, love. Like, just-happened love. Holy crap, we had stepped off an emotional cliff together.

  “No, I don’t golf, but I could learn.” I had no opinion about golfing one way or the other. I’d never even thought about it as something I might or might not want to do. But n
ow it suddenly seemed like a hobby I’d adore in comparison to spending the day at Casa Cranky Caldwell. I sat straight up and threw the covers back, ready to get up and get in golfing gear.

  “Leah, I don’t think it’s a good idea. My grandfather has no patience for novice golfers. Trevor and his dad are meeting us too.”

  “Who is Trevor?”

  “My best friend. His dad has a house about ten miles from here. He’ll be at the party tonight.”

  Grant had a best friend? Of course he had a best friend. Most people did. I didn’t know as much about Grant as I’d thought I did. “Then I definitely want to go so I can meet Trevor.” I stood up and threw my arms around his neck, totally naked, and gave him a kiss, trying to be seductive and persuasive. “Please don’t leave me here.”

  He gave a moan. “Leah. I can’t take you. Just hang out with Gigi. She likes you. My mom will be doing her hair and makeup and all that stuff all day. You won’t even see her.”

  Hang out with Gigi. That sounded like a blast. “This whole men go golfing, women do their hair, is very sexist.” I could feel my lip pulling into a pout. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep so quickly after sex the night before. I’d closed my eyes on a high and woken up to reality.

  “I agree, it’s very gender-based. But everyone is doing what they personally would prefer to do.”

  I gave him a look.

  “Well. Except for you. I’ll take you golfing a different time so you can learn and then in the future I won’t leave you behind, I promise.”

  That was an unnerving thought. If Grant and I were going to be in a real, legitimate relationship, this would not be my only visit to the Hamptons. Yikes.

  “That does not help me today.”

  Grant pulled my arms down and set me away from him. He was wearing a navy sweater and plaid pants. He looked like a model pretending to be a golfer. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

  I’d heard that before. “That promise better involve cake.”

  “I was thinking sexual favors.”

  “No, thanks, I’ll take cake.” I gave him a grin. Hey, sure I would like sexual favors. But didn’t he win in that scenario as well? Nope. Not giving him any satisfaction.

  “You seem very motivated by sweets.”

  “Keep that in mind.” I yawned and stretched.

  “Leah. Put some clothes on before you find yourself on your back.” Grant looked turned on and dangerous.

  Just the way I liked him.

  I strode past him to the bathroom. “Go whack some balls around. I’ll see you later.” I slammed the door shut.

  He knocked on the door.

  I opened it a crack. “Yes?”

  “Kiss me.”

  Grant didn’t wait for me to respond to his demand. He pressed his lips to mine in the narrow space between the door and frame.

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  All my irritation with him evaporated. How could I be upset when he was staring at me like that and telling me that he loved me?

  I couldn’t. “I love you, too.”

  I did. My heart felt ten times larger than normal.

  “Leave,” I said softly. “Before I kidnap you and keep you forever.”

  For a second he opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head with a smile. “See you later.”

  Unlike Tiffany, I needed to eat, so after showering, I went in search of food. The house was a flurry of activity with the kitchen filled with catering staff. A glance out of the massive glass windows showed tents going up in the yard. There was a rental company unloading tables and chairs. Definitely a spare-no-expense party.

  “Good morning,” I said to a couple of the women opening large containers and arranging food onto trays. “I’m sorry to be in the way. I just need some kind of quick breakfast.”

  A woman in her forties with funky glasses smiled at me. “Not a problem. Can I fix something for you? I’m Chef Tamara Walker. I’d shake your hand but I’m wrist-deep in ahi tuna.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Leah, Grant’s fiancée.” That just rolled right off the tongue. I should probably question why but not now. I needed coffee. “I’m fine, thanks, I’ll just grab something out of the fridge.”

  I opened the professional subzero refrigerator and was confronted with container after container of food for the party. “Huh.” I pried the lid off of one and found a fruit and mint salad. Bingo.

  I found a fork and a bowl and dished up a serving. I felt like I was winning until I turned and assessed the coffee machine. “Does anyone know how to use this? I feel like I’m looking at the panel on an airplane.”

  Gigi wandered into the kitchen. “You shouldn’t drink coffee, it’ll kill you.”

  Interesting. She had an unlit cigarette in her hand.

  “We have to die from something,” I told her.

  “That is true.” She turned to one of the caterers. “Can you figure this thing out? My future granddaughter needs coffee.” She gave me a smile. “What are your plans today?”

  “Staying out of the way,” I said, truthfully. “There is a lot going on here. I may go for a swim.”

  Gigi was wearing wide-leg pants and a massive cowl-neck sweater that swallowed her. “We should have flown to Paris last night like I wanted to. We could be shopping right now and still make it back for the party.”

  I was one hundred percent sure she was serious. I was also one hundred percent sure, if I was one of the caterers, I’d be eavesdropping like nobody’s business.

  “Paris would have been nice,” I said.

  “Maybe we can go next weekend.”

  Sure, right after I got back from Key West. Not going to happen. I had a job and zero flexibility. “I have to work.” Even if I didn’t, I couldn’t exactly picture myself jetting off to Paris with Gigi. I’d prefer my first time there to be, you know, romantic.

  “You should quit that waitress job.”

  “I can’t.” I didn’t want to talk about this. I scooped fruit into my mouth and chewed fast, wanting to escape the kitchen.

  Fortunately, Gigi seemed to lose interest when she got a text on her phone. “Oh, I need to answer this.”

  I bolted for my bedroom and found my own phone. I felt cut off from the world. I had a missed call from my agent, Laura. I called her back.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Maybe she had an audition opportunity for me.

  “Listen, I got a phone call from Ricky Preston.”

  For a second I was so caught off guard I couldn’t process what she’d said. “Ricky Preston, the director?” What the hell did that have to do with me?

  “Yes. He wanted your bio and headshot. Apparently, his godmother put your name in his ear. Since when do you know Van Buren Caldwell?”

  “Who is Van Buren Caldwell?” I asked, bewildered. “I mean, I’m at the Caldwells’ house in the Hamptons right now because I’m dating Grant, but I don’t know who Van Buren is.” I wasn’t sure if that was a man or a woman or a restaurant on the Upper East Side.

  “She’s Grant’s grandmother. Renowned socialite and Broadway enthusiast. She’s financed major productions over the years.”

  “Gigi is Van Buren?” I had no idea. I paced the room. I went over to the window and pulled the drapes back. The view was the driveway. I dropped the drapes again. “I’m so confused.”

  “She’s very influential and so is Ricky Preston, as you know. He wants you to audition to play a young Cher.”

  “What?”

  “Yes. I’ll send you the details. This is a breakout role. But I guess if you’re calling Van Buren Caldwell ‘Gigi,’ you’ve got a serious advantage. This is great, Leah.”

  It was. It was everything I’d ever wanted. Why did it feel so weird? “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’re ready. This could be it, kiddo.”

  This could be it.

  And I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe and my clothes were three sizes too tight.

  Chapter 14


  The house was filling up with people. I’d clapped my hand on men’s shoulders and hugged female relatives who had poured in from all over the East Coast. Caterers were already gliding around, though they’d moved their center of operation from the kitchen to a room off the living room designed for that purpose.

  I’d been to a million parties growing up. I’d been to a million more as a businessman. As a child, it had been a brilliant opportunity to run around unattended because the watchful Rose wasn’t allowed downstairs during events. I had crammed hors d’oeuvres in my mouth by the fistful and stolen sips of champagne, wrinkling my nose at the fizz. Later, I’d gone for the hard stuff, and kisses in dark hallways with girls older than me. As an adult, parties were business opportunities, not social events for me, filled with potential deals and duties to relatives.

  This was the first party in years that could bring back the excitement of being thirteen and impressing my friends by slamming back whiskey.

  Because of Leah.

  I had every intention of stealing kisses in a dark hallway with Leah, the woman I was in love with. The woman I could not stop thinking about. My grandfather had whacked me upside the back of my head on the golf course, irritated with my level of distraction.

  “Get your dick out of the dirt,” he’d told me. “Fucking focus. I’m not here to wait around while you jerk off.”

  He’d been right. I didn’t have my head in the game.

  Now I had Leah by my side and I felt like I’d scored the biggest deal of my entire life. A woman who could make me laugh and loved me for me. I smiled at her as she accepted yet another hug from a stranger. She stuck her tongue out at me over Aunt Judith’s shoulder. I shook my head at her, amused.

  When Aunt Judith wandered away in search of a chardonnay, Leah tilted her head and gave me a manic smile as we finally had a minute alone. “Hi, hello, yes, it’s so nice to meet you. Pleasure. Charmed. Lovely, isn’t it? Oh my, what a fabulous dress. No, I wasn’t on the hospital board in Greenwich, but I have that kind of face. Really? That’s astonishing. I know, aren’t hurricanes ridiculous?”