Lucky This Isn't Real: MacBride Brothers Series St. Patrick's Day Fake Fiance Romance

by Jamie Knight

  “Now, honey, please,” Raquel snapped at him. “While it’s clear that you are better off with me, let’s not assume she’s so quickly moved on to someone else. Someone as handsome as this guy couldn’t possibly be with someone like Maggie.”

  She sneered in my sweet girl’s direction.

  “Is he like your cousin or something?” she asked. “A distant relative on your dad’s side? We all know he’s not really your boyfriend.”

  I hated the way she talked to Maggie. But despite the hoity-toity airs she was trying to put on, she looked like she was just a kid, so I tried to cut her some slack, but I had to wonder about how she had been raised to have turned out so mean.

  “Yes,” I quickly answered before Maggie could say anything. “We are together.”

  “Told you,” the guy said to the girl, shrugging.

  “We’re engaged, actually,” I added. “We’re here for couples counseling, too. Our church has the same rule.”

  The color drained from Raquel’s face, and her eyes widened.

  “What? How?”

  Maggie placed her hand on top of mine and squeezed.

  “What do you mean ‘how’? We wanted it to happen, so we’re making it happen. Why not now, right? Some would say it’s too fast, but we say it’s just right and that’s all that matters. Plus, you should know about fast-moving relationships, sister dear.”

  “Hmmm. Well, we’re having a very big, fancy wedding. And we’re having an engagement party at my Dad’s Santa Monica mansion a week from Saturday. You’re invited, of course, being like family and all,” Raquel said with a sniff.

  I didn’t buy her fake generous act.

  She clearly wanted to rub the extravagance in Maggie’s face.

  “We’ll be a bit busy planning our own luxury wedding, but we’ll see if we can fit it in,” I immediately shot back.

  The girl’s eyes narrowed. She clearly wasn’t exactly buying our act just yet, either.

  “When is the wedding?” the bastard asked, looking sadder now. “I don’t see a ring on your finger, Maggie.”

  Raquel wiggled her taloned fingers in our direction, and a tawdry-looking diamond glinted in the light.

  “I proposed with my granny’s antique, emerald, and diamond ring,” I explained. “It’s being sized as we speak. As for the wedding, it’s booked for three months from now.”

  “Oh yeah? Where?” he asked, getting haughty.

  “Big Sur. At a historic, coastal hotel,” I said, making things up as I went along and hoping that all those acting classes were making me sound convincing. “We’ll say ‘I do’ on a cliff that overlooks the coastline. There will be a gazebo for the ceremony, white folding chairs, individual menus for each guest, a cocktail hour, doves. The whole nine yards. You name it, we’re doing it.”

  “She doesn’t like any of that,” the guy said, as though in victory. “Maggie’s a simple girl.”

  “Boring, actually,” Raquel butted in, being just as mean as she could be.

  “Simple? Coulda fooled me. She planned most of it,” I said, with a sly wink to Maggie.

  “But she doesn’t even go to church,” Raquel protested.

  “Does now. I’m a good Irish Catholic boy. My dad insisted. He wouldn’t be letting me marry a heathen.”

  “Hot, Irish, and engaged to Maggie,” Raquel muttered. “This doesn’t add up.”

  I could nearly see the bastard ex turn green, and Raquel the Revolting didn’t look much better off. I was quite happy my plan was working out so well.

  I was always quick with a believable lie in a pinch and was blessed with the gift of the gab. Those were two of the many reasons I had decided to go into acting.

  “My morals have improved a lot since we broke up,” the raven-haired beauty beside me said. “Knowing what a cheater you are, Kenny, helped with that, and I wanted to do anything not to end up like you two. My good, Irish Catholic boy has helped with that.”

  Maggie put her arm around me and squeezed me tight as a way of punctuation. One of her glorious tits pressed softly against my bicep, and I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I had to force my dick to stay flaccid.

  As though we had practiced it, we kissed tenderly just to drive the point home. Electricity shot through my body and must have hit my cock because it made it half hard. I wanted to fuck her so bad.

  Finally, the two gobshites were called back for their counseling session, with Raquel saying, “Well, don’t forget to stop by our engagement party.”

  On the way past, I heard her hissing at the douche bag, “I’m changing all of our wedding plans now that we’re competing with that.”

  The two lovebirds stormed off to their session in a huff, and I felt a bit bad for the counselor they were going to see. I could just imagine their session, with Raquel being uppity and demanding about every little thing and her boyfriend trying to give in but resenting her for the over-priced wedding flowers and the future names of their children or whatever it was that a couple was supposed to talk about during pre-marital counseling.

  That guy had not looked happy to be with her. I couldn’t believe he would cheat on this fine specimen sitting beside me with that monster. He was obviously regretting it. As he rightfully should.

  The timing of the two of them being called back was a close call, and I was glad that Maggie and I hadn’t been sent to our separate appointments first. Not only because it would prove we were lying, but also because I really liked being with her.

  I hoped I got called back last so that I could keep talking to Maggie as long as possible. That is, if either of us got called back at all— it was taking forever for both of us to have our appointments, as if every business in this office complex was running behind.

  That was more than fine with me, though. I wanted to get to know my fake fiancé a bit more.

  “Those two seem really happy together, or at least they seem to be a good match for each other. Good thing they’re getting married. Saves the rest of us the risk,” I remarked, as soon as they had disappeared.

  This made Maggie laugh. It was really a beautiful, deep, and throaty sound. And it was only made better by the fact that I was the cause of it. She really could light up a room with the way her face glowed and her eyes widened when she genuinely let loose.

  “Thank you so much for helping me out of that crazy predicament,” she said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “What are the odds of that even happening? Them showing up in the same office building the same time as me?”

  She rolled her pretty, dark brown eyes for emphasis before adding, “I really appreciate everything you said and did.”

  Winking at her, I decided that this was the perfect time to lay the charm on her with a trowel.

  “No problem. The price will only be your full name and phone number,” I said, “and if you could pay in full right now, that would be perfect.”

  Chapter Five – Maggie

  Well, that had come out of the blue.

  I’d really been having a bad day up to that point. Seeing Raquel and Kenny made it even worse. I had no idea what I would have done if I’d had to face them alone. Quiver and cry, probably, much to Raquel’s delight, no doubt.

  Kenny didn’t seem as into taunting me as Raquel had. He was a jerk but not completely evil and he seemed to still have some feelings for me, so I would cut him some slack there. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was reluctant to go along with the counseling or even to be with Raquel, although I was probably reading too much into that.

  Raquel was totally unbelievable. She seemed hellbent on destroying my heart and life in any way she could. I had no idea what I had done to her other than be her stepsister, which hadn’t exactly been my choice, and was a role that I happened to think I had fulfilled with grace.

  In fact, I’d always tried to be there for her and to talk to her when I felt things had been going wrong or she’d seemed down, and yet this was how she repaid me. I certainly didn’t think I deserved thi
s kind of treatment, but I was beginning to realize it was just the way she was.

  Life had made her hardened and bitter after her parents’ divorce and she seemed intent on taking it out on everyone else. In fact, she was likely taking it out on me personally, making me the target of her ire because I happened to be too close to her own personal situation, just because I was the daughter of the woman her father had remarried.

  It felt good to not have to put up with her cruelty anymore, at least for the moment, but the amusement I felt at seeing her storm out of the lobby was short-lived. I was still stuck with the fact that I was alone, and she was marrying my ex— and that sucked.

  After ridding me of my tormentors, I was more surprised than I should have been that my rescuer made the completely reasonable request of knowing my full name. When he also asked for my number, I thought that seemed a bit forward, but he had willingly gone along with the charade I’d thrown him into, so I couldn’t really complain.

  I owed him at least as much as he was asking for.

  Plus, who was I kidding?

  He was hot as fuck.

  Of course I wanted to give him my number.

  The wetness in my panties and the tingle down my back told me that I would have given him a hell of a lot more under different circumstances.

  “Okay, sure,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, despite the delightful trembling his handsome face caused to appear there.

  I got out the pad I carried by force of the habit formed back when I was still writing regularly and jotted down my full name and cell number. I gave him the pad and pen, and he wrote out his own information.

  “Gavin MacBride. Your surname sounds Scottish.”

  “It’s kind of both. There’s a lot of overlap, especially way back. Technically the Scots started out as a displaced Irish tribe. The MacBride family are kinfolk of the MacDonald clan from Scotland. Mac is old scot. Mc is Scots Irish. It’s why the British sometimes call us ‘micks.’”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling like an idiot.

  There was so much I didn’t know about other cultures, but I sure was willing to learn about his. Or anything about him at all.

  He nudged my arm.

  “We should go to their engagement party together.”

  I snorted out a laugh.

  “As if.”

  “Why not?”

  I laughed, surprised that he was serious. It sounded like a crazy idea, but clearly, I was a crazy person, as evidenced by the fact that I was about to go in to see a therapist.

  “I say let’s give it a bash,” he pushed. “It could be a laugh. Will there be free food and free beer?”

  “Of course.”

  The corners of his lips lifted into a huge grin, and his eyes twinkled.

  “Then we should definitely go.”

  Tingles raced up and down my back.

  “Well, that’s settled then,” I said with a giggle.

  “Maggie Sanders,” called out the receptionist. “Dr. Benoit is ready for you now.”

  I took a deep breath. I had made the appointment, so I decided I should still go, but I wasn’t feeling as depressed as I had been.

  “Well, gotta go,” I told Gavin. “It was nice meeting you. Thanks so much again. You went above and beyond the call of duty.”

  “The pleasure was all mine, darlin’,” he said, smiling that cute grin of his. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Can’t wait,” I said, then immediately felt like an idiot all over again. “I mean, good, because we really should make them jealous as fuck at that engagement party, right?”

  I hoped my recovery had been good enough. I knew it was obvious how into him I was, but I hadn’t meant to be that forward.

  “For sure,” he said, waving at me as I walked off.

  It almost felt like a maze, to find the right office as I walked down the long, twisting hallway, but I finally did.

  “Bonjour, Maggie,” Dr. Benoit said, opening the door to her office once I knocked.

  “Dr. Benoit, it’s nice to meet you.”

  I had expected a couch, but that was just one of the stereotypes of therapists that Dr. Benoit was apparently rebelling against. As well as the notion that they were old, bearded Austrio-German men in ancient tweeds.

  Dr. Benoit was young, with a French accent and the clearest, smoothest skin I had ever seen. And she dressed in chic fashion labels and didn’t wear a bra.

  I wasn’t particularly looking but couldn’t help but notice. It was rather obvious. But I did my best to avert my eyes.

  We sat down together on her lovely leather couch, and she crossed her legs, her notebook open on her lap.

  “I’ve read over your pre-appointment questionnaire and looked over your medical history. There’s no history of depression or mental health issues previously, so tell me what brought you here today,” Dr. Benoit said.

  Her tone of voice was caring but also no-nonsense.

  “Everything, I guess. I mean, I don’t seem to be getting any real joy out of anything. There’s no real joy in my life. I can’t write like I used to. Even walking in the woods only has a mild effect. It used to make me so happy. But ever since my stepsister and ex-boyfriend hooked up, nothing works to cheer me up. I took a special trip up to Oregon to see if I could shake off the funk, but all I got was a lousy T-shirt.”

  I gave her a weak smile.

  “Was that a joke?” she asked me, her brows furrowed.

  I cleared my throat.

  “Yeah, or, um, my lame attempt at one, anyway. Sorry.”

  “No, no, it’s healthy. Humor is a defense mechanism. If you can recognize that, it can help get to the bottom of what is hurting you.”

  I never really thought about it that way. It wasn’t a physical sort of hurt. But there was definitely something going on. Something that kept me from thinking too much about all that had happened.

  “Tell me about your sister,” Dr. Benoit prompted.

  Oh boy, that was a big one. I couldn’t really dive into that whole emotional mess. Not least because I only got Raquel as a sister because my daddy died.

  I might have still had a full-blooded sister if that hadn’t happened. My mom was young enough to have had another child, but it wouldn’t have been Raquel, and everything that was going on with her was tied in part to that.

  Especially because she had lost her mom at a similar age. I felt responsible for her and tried to do my best, but then she had gone and done this.

  “We used to be close,” I said, my eyes filling.

  I wasn’t really sure of that anymore, though. I always tried to be kind and helpful, but Raquel was always pretty quiet. Then she hit puberty, and the hormones must have done something to her because there were times when she could be more than a she-devil, both to my mom and me.

  I guess as she got older, she might have resented her dad marrying so soon after her mom’s death or something. Maybe she thought my mom and I were trying to steal her dad away.

  I started to feel really foolish for thinking we had ever been close. I was ready to leave it all behind.

  “But that’s boring,” I said. “I’m ready to move on to a happier future. I can’t do anything about the past.”

  She nodded like she wasn’t convinced.

  “Have you been trying to keep busy?”

  “As much as I can,” I said.

  “Oui, I understand. But could you be a bit more specific?”

  “Well, like I said, walking in the woods helps. I’ve been going to the park more and just walking because I don’t do much writing anymore. I’ve also taken a job as an administrative assistant, so I have enough money to eat and cover my rent, since I haven’t been able to write enough.”

  “Oui, I quite understand,” Dr. Benoit repeated. “How is your dating life?”

  “I-I don’t really have one,” I stammered.

  Truth be told, I hadn’t even really thought about such things until just today when I had unexpectedly met Gavin. I had b
een too shocked and upset by what Kenny had done with Raquel, an image that still made me feel sick just thinking about it, to even consider a love life.

  I hadn’t even touched myself in the six months that had passed. Perhaps a self-administered orgasm or two might help.

  I was hardly going to mention Gavin to her, of course. It seemed a bit too crazy to be into a guy I had just met minutes before, and under such strange circumstances.

  “You should consider it. I know you’ve been hurt, but what better way to reclaim yourself than to find someone who genuinely loves you? You are still young and deserve to be happy.”

  “I know… but it’s not as easy as I thought it would be to move on.”

  I started to think about Gavin again, now that I had basically been given permission to date him by this wise French therapist. I couldn’t help but wonder where that would lead and how it might affect me emotionally and physically.

  I was afraid to trust anyone with my heart again, but Gavin seemed like such a good guy who had helped me when he hadn’t needed to. And despite my mental reluctance, my body was more than willing. A big reason I wanted to see him again was because I couldn’t wait to have sex with him.

  Dr. Benoit started recommending some books to me about fierce self-love. I got out my notebook and made a list.

  “Thank you,” I told her. “This has been very helpful. I’ll look more into these resources when I get home.”

  “Yes, and come back and see me in two weeks, oui?” she said, opening up the calendar on her computer and pointing her mouse to the correct date.

  “Um, I think I can,” I told her.

  I hadn’t given much thought to whether I wanted to come to therapy long term.

  Couldn’t I just listen to one of these audiobooks and be healed?

  “Well, dear, why don’t you just let me know, then?” she asked, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “You have my number, and you are free to keep coming to see me until you’re on a healthier path, okay?”

  “Okay,” I told her, although her implication that my current path was unhealthy stung a bit.

  As I left her office and made my way back down the long hallway, hoping I wouldn’t get lost on my way back out to the parking lot, I wanted to protest that it wasn’t my fault that my ex had cheated on me with my stepsister!