Fake Fiancé Next Door_A Small Town Romance

by Piper Sullivan

  “Patience,” he said and I could feel him smile against my skin as he pressed kisses along my jaw, down my throat and between my breasts. He moved his lips to one of my nipples and sucked the aching tip into his mouth. It was like a magical chord of ecstasy that connected every nerve ending in my body to each other. And while he slid his fingers in and out of my wetness and sucked on my nipple I felt my entire world spiral out of control.

  He moved up along my body again until our eyes met and as he lay nestled between my thighs I raised my knees, spreading myself for him.

  “Are you sure about this,” he asked with a smile tugging on his lips.

  “Is the pope catholic?” I asked dragging my nails up along his spine.

  “His loyalty is questionable,” he joked and then slid his rock-hard length between my slick folds.

  “Oh god, just…” I started, unable to formulate a coherent sentence.

  “Say please,” he teased.

  “You’re making me beg?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Seriously?”

  Caleb looked down at me and I bit my bottom lip and in one smooth motion he moved his hips and entered me slowly at first, but with each stroke he became more relentless, thrusting faster and harder. I wrapped my legs around his thighs and gripped his biceps as he thrust, over and over. I arched my back and met his every stroke; overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment I could feel every nerve ending in my body tingle and rise to the pinnacle of pleasure.

  “Caleb,” I uttered over and over as I felt my body and mind slipping further and further into oblivion. Each thrust of his cock into my core drove me closer and closer to the edge and I knew that he too, was reaching that tipping point. When he called out my name my entire world came undone and I surrendered myself completely to him.

  For a while after, I lay cradled in his arms while he drew patterns over my back and arms, something I always loved. Everything felt perfect, it was as if our stars were aligned and nothing and no one could ruin this sacred moment.

  “When you said that we have to show Braden Horton hears a who, did you just say that?”

  I felt the smile tug at his lips and then he pressed his lips against the top of my head.

  “I meant it; Braden deserves to have us both in his life.”

  I closed my eyes and bit my lip, for now I’ll take what I can get and leave the empty promises and unhappily ever after’s, for when they rear their ugly heads.

  Caleb

  I looked down at the financials, it’s the first time in weeks since I’ve visited the office and I knew I had to show face sooner or later. It was fun having a board of members running the show, but in reality, I couldn’t keep hiding from obvious obligations.

  “Mr. Hayes, your manager is here to see you,” my secretary announced.

  “Send him in.”

  “Gary, this is a pleasant surprise, didn’t expect to see you here,” I said and sat down, “surely you could have caught up with me at practice tomorrow.”

  “Unfortunately this cannot wait Caleb. There are stories flying around left right and centre and it’s not helping your image.”

  “What stories?”

  “Well some reckon the girl is leading you on and that she’s just a gold digger after your money,” he said and shifted uncomfortably.

  “And who may I ask would be spreading these rumours?”

  “Everyone, we’ve had reporters peeping around at the club and asking questions. They want to know if you did a paternity test to prove that the child is yours.”

  “Is that so?”

  Grant stood up and walked over to the window, “I know it’s not my place, but maybe you should insist on a paternity test. Some women will go to any length to get what they want.”

  Not Rae, I thought as I collected the papers and placed them into a manila folder, but if that is what the public wants I don’t see why it will be a bad thing. I knew for a fact Braden was my son, and I was more than certain that Rae was no gold digger.

  “I’ll arrange a paternity test, but then I want you to handle the journalists,” I said and as I looked up I saw Rae standing at the door, her face as white a sheet.

  “Rae,” I said and stood up, but the look on her face told me to stay put.

  “A paternity test, so that’s what you plan to do?” she bit out coldly, “Don’t bother Caleb, I’ll be gone before you get home.” And without a word she spun around and walked away.

  “For god sakes,” I cursed and ran off after her, “Rae, wait!”

  She spun around and shoved her finger against my chest, “No! I’m done Caleb. Braden is much better and we do not need you or your money. I can do this on my own, I don’t need you.”

  I dragged my hands through my hair and sighed frustratingly. Going after her now would simply provoke her, I had to give her some time to calm down and then talk to her. So, I watched her leave and I cursed under my breath.

  “She’s up to something, Caleb, otherwise she would have agreed to a paternity test. What has she got to hide?”

  I strode towards Grant and grabbed him by his shirt, I was fuming, I had enough of managers trying to rule my every decision and journalists hounding me down, “She is not hiding anything!” I said angrily before shoving him away from me, “Braden is my son, and I don’t give a shit what everyone else believes. You do what you’re supposed to do and handle it, it’s what you get paid for.”

  Grant stumbled back and then fixed his shirt and headed for the door, “This will leave a mark on your career.”

  “Then maybe you should start looking a replacement.”

  I looked at the time and although I desperately wanted to get home to Rae to sort this mess out, I had to attend the general board meeting first. I cursed under my breath and then marched to the boardroom.

  Raedene

  A week later I sat in my own apartment back home in Lafayette, and every day there was a few more missed calls from Caleb, which I refused to answer. The fact that he even suggested a paternity test was enough for me to make up my mind. To find out that he had the slightest doubt about Braden hurt more than anything and I simply refused to stay under the same roof as him.

  I paged aimlessly through a magazine trying to keep my mind off Caleb, but in all honestly reading a local sports magazine wasn’t the best therapy either. On every second page, there was mention of the famous Caleb Hayes, or the Denver Stampede and although I didn’t exactly read the articles his name jumped out at me like a bad memory.

  “Mommy,” Braden called out as he came running into the room, “look what I made.”

  My heart stopped and I dropped the magazine. Did he just call me mommy? I was beside myself, he has never referred to me as his mom, but I knew I couldn’t exactly make a fuss about it, so I forced my own excitement aside and looked at him, “Let’s see what you have there.”

  It was a picture with a house and a family; this time instead of his other family, he had drawn three people and I knew exactly who the third person was. A lump formed in my throat and I fought back the tears. What on earth was I going to do?

  “Wow, this is beautiful, is that Uncle Caleb?” I asked and cleared my throat.

  “Yep, he’s my new daddy, I want to visit him.”

  I let out a controlled breath and hugged my little boy. Decision made, I had to move to Denver so that Braden could see Caleb whenever he wanted, but that would mean I would have to agree to a paternity test. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, but I don’t think I would be able to put my heart on the line again. I was sure that I could live in the same town as Caleb without melting into a puddle of goo every time he looked at me.

  “I’m sure he would like that,” I said and then lifted him unto my lap, “Caleb is playing Rugby now, do you want to watch the game with me?”

  “He’s on the TV?”

  “Yes he is,” I said and flicked to the sports channel.

  We sat and watched the game and at half time I made us a quick snack.
Initially the sport did not interest me, but seeing the players on the field and how excited Braden got each time he saw Caleb had me hooked. Half time was over and the players all jogged back onto the field and the game got underway. The Denver Stampede was leading 18 – 6, but the players looked exhausted from their efforts. Each bone crunching tackle had me on edge; I’ve never been one for such barbaric sports, and watching players being carried off on stretchers or with cuts in their faces made me nervous.

  Ten minutes into half time, Caleb was sprinting to the try line, one of the opposition players came storming him from the side and when he collided with Caleb, he was catapulted into the air and came down head first and that’s where he stayed. I looked at Braden and was grateful that he was busy playing with his Legos instead of watching the game. I glanced back at the screen; the referee had blown the whistle and raised his arms above his head with his wrists crossed. Within seconds, paramedics came rushing unto the field with a spine board and I held my breath for a second and when the live broadcast was interrupted, I knew something went horribly wrong.

  Hours later I sat next to Caleb where he lay in traction. He had suffered a compression fracture on his C5-C6 vertebrae which caused pressure on his spinal cord, leaving him paralysed. And although the doctor reassured me that it was only temporary, I couldn’t help but worry.

  In his sedated state, I took his hand in mine, “I know you can’t hear me, but I’m going to say this anyway. You have to get better, Braden needs you and-and I need you.”

  Realisation swept over me as I rubbed my thumb over the back of his hand. I still loved him after all these years and coming so close to losing him after just finding him scared me more than anything. Outside reporters gathered to get a scoop of the story but Samson was determined to not allow anyone in, which I was thankful for.

  “Rae…”

  Caleb was waking up and even though he couldn’t move, a smile tugged at his lips.

  “Caleb, you stupid fool,” I said and shifted closer to him, “You scared the hell out of me. How are you feeling?”

  “Right now I’m not feeling much at all,” he said and I could see the laughter in his eyes. Unbelievable! Even at this point he could make silly jokes.

  “It’s not funny, you could have broken your neck,” I said and squeezed his hand.

  “It will be convenient though, you would have to look after me for life then,” he said in his croaky voice.

  His response caught me off guard and I could only smile, “I’m serious Caleb, what would I have told Braden?”

  The door to the room opened unexpectedly and I turned to see who entered expecting Samson, but instead it was two men I haven’t seen before.

  “Mr. Hayes, I’m from the Daily Tribune…” one of them started and I instantly got my back up and glared at them.

  “Have you no consideration, you can see he’s not well, get out of here this instant!” I ground out and went to stand between Caleb and the parasites.

  “Are you Miss Callaway, the mother of his child?”

  God, he was relentless. I was about to attack him physically when Caleb spoke up.

  “It’s okay Rae, I can handle this,” he said.

  I hesitated and then stepped aside.

  Caleb looked at me and then at the reporter, “For the record, Miss Rae Callaway is the mother of my child, and no, I’m not going to fight for custody. I plan on marrying her,” he said and then glanced my way.

  I was too overwhelmed to say anything; my mouth fell open and closed a few times.

  “That is if she will have me,” he continued while the reporter’s camera man clicked away taking photos.

  I glanced at Caleb and caught him watching me. What just happened? He just stated to the reporter that he wanted to marry me. I was sure it was his concussion speaking, so I moved closer and leaned down to whisper, “You don’t have to pretend for the press, they can make their own conclusions, I don’t really care, I just want you to get better.”

  “I’m not pretending, it’s the truth, I am in love with you.”

  Shocked I sat down not trusting my own legs, even the reporter and camera man stood silently watching. I knew I had to say something but words failed me, so instead I leaned over and pressed my lips against his.

  “Is that a yes or a maybe?” he asked against my lips.

  “It’s a maybe, first get better so that you can get on your knees to propose,” I whispered and then kissed him, the other people in the room forgotten.

  THE END

  Epilogue

  Two months later Braden and I went with Samson to meet Caleb at his physiotherapist. He had been working hard to get back on his feet, and was finally able to take more than twenty steps before having to rest. When I entered the rehabilitation centre it was decorated with gold balloons and white roses all over the place. At the far end, I spotted Damien and his fiancée standing among the staff along with a bunch of really big bulky men who I could only assume were Celeb’s rugby mates. Caleb stood near the parallel walking bar in a suit. I glanced around the room and slowly approached him with Braden holding my hand.

  Caleb looked at me and smiled and with the help of his physiotherapist he went down on one knee and held out a little velvet box.

  “Rae Callaway, I’m on my knees finally, so will you do me the honour of being my partner in crime?” he said with a grin. Around us everyone stood holding their breaths and waiting in anticipation, some of the women were dabbing tears from their eyes and I was pretty close to tears myself.

  I looked down at Braden and then asked him, “So do you want Caleb to be your real dad?”

  Braden didn’t even wait; he launched at Caleb and hugged him tightly. I smiled and went down on my knees then leaned in and kissed him, “I would want nothing more,” I said softly and Caleb slid the ring unto my trembling finger.

  Finally, my life was starting to get direction, my son finally accepted me as his only mother, while I had the love of my life right by my side, nothing could be more prefect that this.

  THE END

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  Home At Last

  May

  A glance in the rear view leaves me sure no one is following me. Not that there’s anyone to follow me anyway. Out here, under the stifling Texas sun, I realize I’ve driven nearly six hundred miles and I’m tired.

  The kind of tired that’s sinking right down deep into my bones. But that scared side of me tells me to keep running. I have to keep going. I haven’t gone far enough.

  Pushing aside the troubling thoughts, I try to settle into happier times, happier memories. Out here, on an old dirt road that reminds me of home, I’ve seen a few gates between stretches of fenced land. The gates have huge wooden frames of old logs that are a throwback the time when Texas was truly wild. Hung from each wooden frame is a name; the name of the ranch proudly on display. One creeps up on me now: Mustang Ranch.

  I slow down as I notice an odd-looking bit of paper clinging to the beam on the right side of the frame.

  Help wanted.

  It’s like every prayer I’ve ever said that’s gone unanswered has suddenly left me here, finally heard and saved.

  Before I can change my mind, I pull in before the closed gate. I sit for a moment. Am I really doing this? Am I crazy? I can’t stop. I haven’t put enough distance between me and…

  It’ll be fine.

  With a deep breath, I calm myself and I get out of my old car. It’s on its last legs after the punishing drive we’ve just endured. The sky just seems to stretch on endlessly as I open the gate before heading back to my car to pull through. On the other side, I get back out and close the gate behind me. Might as well make a good first impression, right?

  What was that old rule dad made sure I remembered? A closed ga
te must be closed behind oneself.

  The drive is dirt and rough, potholes claim my tires and jolt the car. Along both sides, fences trap plots of land and pastures stretch as far as the eye can see. The sparse grasses and few trees offer spotty shade to majestic-looking horses of many colors that stand in groups of two and threes.

  I drive slowly, but still, my tires kick up enough dust to announce my presence long before I ever even see the house.

  When the house comes into view, I feel my jaw drop. It’s not an old ranch house; it’s an old ranch mansion. It’s like a cross between an old plantation mansion and a castle. My heart thunders in my chest as I pull up and park my car.

  They’re looking for help, I remind myself. I know that Texas is a stand your ground state, but the sign said they’re looking for help. Besides, what self-respecting man would shoot an unarmed, obviously tired woman?

  With slow steps, I walk up the sprawling porch, loving the white swinging loveseat and the several matching white wicker chairs. This place reminds me more of home than home did in its final glory days.

  I step up to the door and gather my courage to knock. Before I can, the door swings open and I find myself under the intense brown stare of a man who’s taller than me by a foot and a half at least. He leans on the door frame, his imposing form enough to make every drop of saliva dry up on my tongue.

  His heavy brow, shiny black hair and tanned skin all make up an incredibly handsome face. His eyes are hooded, like he trusts no one and nothing, his jaw is wide and powerful and working like he’s clenching it and deciding whether or not to shoot me.