Faking it with #41

by Piper Rayne

  The nurse leaves and he sits on the doctor’s stool, wheeling it over to Annabelle who seems as though she’s slowly falling asleep.

  And so we sit in silence, waiting for answers.

  Less than an hour later, we’re told that Annabelle is being given some Tylenol and being admitted for a one-night stay, leaving the ER to go to the pediatric wing. They’re concerned with how high her fever is and the fact that she’s a little dehydrated. It takes a half hour before we’re situated in her room. Annabelle sleeps peacefully in a thinner onesie the hospital supplied and is hooked up to a bunch of monitors.

  I’m curled into a chair in the corner of the room. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have questioned you about bringing Annabelle here. You’re her father.”

  Ford tears his eyes away from his daughter. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blamed you.”

  A few beats of uncomfortable silence pass.

  “I hate hospitals,” I admit, pain in my voice. “Maybe that’s why I was reluctant to admit this is where she needed to be, I don’t know.”

  “Why?” he asks, turning his chair to face me with his hand still on Annabelle.

  “Don’t you ever think about the dead bodies in the morgue or the fact that someone could be dying in this building right now?”

  His eyebrows rise. “Pretty morbid. Babies get born here and people cheat death here too. Survivors.”

  I nod. “I guess I never saw the good. I saw the fixing. But it was always temporary.”

  “Why were you in a hospital so much?”

  Now I have to decide if I want to tell him the truth, the most personal part of my life. As I look at him, I can tell that he genuinely wants to know, so I tell him. “Because of my dad.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says, voice rough.

  I shake my head. “He’s alive.”

  “So he’s the survivor?” he asks with hope in his voice.

  “He was an alcoholic. I had to bring him to have his stomach pumped a few times.”

  “Jesus, I’m sorry, Lena.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “Where is he now? And your mom? You never talk about them.”

  I tighten my arms around my legs. “My mom passed away when I was seven. My dad is in Tall Trees Assisted Living Facility back in New York. He lives there because he got drunk one night and went the wrong way on the interstate. Got into an accident and now he’s brain damaged. Doesn’t even really know who I am anymore.”

  Admitting the truth is painful, but at the same time, it feels almost as though I’ve set down a heavy sack that I’ve been carrying around everywhere.

  His mouth hangs open. “Lena…”

  His tone tells me he’s figured out that my dad’s situation has something to do with why I agreed to this entire ruse between the two of us in the first place.

  “Your dad is paying me a large sum of money.” I wipe the tears escaping, feeling ashamed of what he’ll think of me. A man who’s never wanted for anything other than to play hockey.

  He says nothing.

  “I know what you must think—”

  “Don’t go assuming you know what’s in my head. It’s a complicated place.” One side of his lips tilt up.

  “It’s expensive. The home he’s in. Sure, Medicare takes care of some things, but he needs more than the bare bones care, and in order to pay for that plus my own expenses…”

  “I get it. I already knew you were doing it for money. But now I feel like maybe you felt like you had to do it. Like you had no choice.”

  “If your dad retires and your family doesn’t need me anymore—”

  “Lena,” he says, and I stop talking. “You don’t have to justify your reasoning to me.”

  “I just don’t want you to think…” I look at him and his eyes are on me.

  He glances at Annabelle, then stalks over to me and slides into the chair next to me. “Since when do you care what I think?”

  I don’t tear my gaze away from his. “I have no idea.” Another tear slips, and he catches it with his thumb. “But I’m not a gold digger, and I know you deal with a lot of women like that. I’m afraid that’s what you’ll think of me.”

  His hand cradles my head, making sure our eyes don’t leave one another. “Well, you did agree to marry me for money.”

  I try to shift my head to the right, but he holds it tight.

  “That was a joke. I don’t think that of you.”

  I nod and he releases my cheek, coolness seeping in after the warmth of his hand. “What do you think of me?”

  He stretches his legs out in front of him, crossing his arms. “I think I can’t get you out of my head and it scares me.”

  I shove him with my shoulder. “I meant about me taking money from your dad.”

  “I think you’re smart. You’re right. You have expenses and he’s using you to get the most he can for his company, so why shouldn’t you get your share? I knew you didn’t agree because you’ve been hot for me and wanted to marry me.”

  “I might not have been hot for you then, but I am now.”

  His head slowly turns toward me, a smoldering haze of want filling his blue eyes. “What exactly are we doing?”

  I shake my head, gaze remaining fixed on his face. “I have no clue, but it could go south.”

  “I know.” He places his hand on my thigh, running it up and down. Need throbs between my thighs. “But I’m not sure I can be in close proximity and control myself.”

  “You hate me.”

  He scowls. “I never hated you. I teased you.”

  I tilt my head at him incredulously.

  “Well, you did strip the fun out of my life.”

  I chuckle. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you kiss me on New Year’s Eve?”

  He blows out a breath. “You’re the complete opposite of any girl I’ve ever been with, and I think because you despised me, I thought it would be fun. That I’d make you uncomfortable and then maybe you’d avoid me at all costs. I hated how you were always entangled in my business, but then…”

  I kind of know what he’s going to say, but I don’t fill in the blank for him.

  “Then that one small kiss sprouted this need inside me and I wanted you. Hell, I would’ve taken you right there on the plane if I thought you’d be into it,” he says.

  “But…”

  “Then the news about Annabelle came and I couldn’t make sense of where my life was going. People act like I don’t know what they think of me. And having a child as a result of a one-night stand doesn’t disprove their theories. All the girls, the parties, the fights—the more it pissed off my dad, the more I did it, as immature as that sounds. I think… no, I know that I always felt like my dad was going to find a way to get me out of hockey. That he’d manipulate or use leverage in some way to get me to work at Jacobs Enterprises. I wanted to live it up every second before the inevitable happened.”

  “And now?”

  He stares at Annabelle, a soft smile on his face. “I don’t want Annabelle growing up thinking her dad’s a sleazy guy. That he sleeps with women and discards them. Don’t get me wrong, most of the women know what they’re getting into, but I want to set an example for my daughter on how she should be treated. I don’t mind coming home after the games and taking care of her. Believe me, I’m just as surprised as everyone else.”

  “Funny, right?”

  “What?”

  “That you got the opposite of what you thought you wanted and it’s been good for you. You’re happy.”

  He nods. “But, Lena, that doesn’t mean I’m a great guy. I’m scared to sleep with you because I’m scared that once I’ve had you, I’m going to bolt and ruin this whole situation.”

  His honesty strikes me hard. It’s my fear as well. I haven’t been in a ton of relationships, but I’m not the girl who sleeps with random people either.

  “I know,” I say softly.

  We both sit straig
ht, our eyes on Annabelle. We’re in a crap situation with no clear way out.

  Two days after Annabelle has a day without a fever and seems to be recovered, we’re on the Jacobs’ private plane, heading to Manhattan to attend a party with Otis Sandersville. As Mr. Jacobs informed Ford and me on a mutual speaker call, this is it and we better sell our happy engagement.

  Morgan will stay back and watch Annabelle at the Jacobs’ penthouse, which leaves no buffer between us.

  At the hospital, we were honest with one another. We’re both fearful of crossing the line, but we’ll never know if we don’t. Annabelle being sick has been something we can focus on and put all those issues to the side. But tonight, we have to sell this relationship, and if we feel uncomfortable or awkward, someone is bound to notice.

  Ford leaves me in the foyer, dropping our bags and saying he has to run out. Mrs. Jacobs takes Annabelle immediately, baby-talking with her about being sick.

  Bennie’s in the kitchen making everyone lunch, so I go visit with him. “Hey, Bennie.”

  He hugs me, kissing my temple like a father would. “How are the beaches?”

  “Good, but I missed the first snowfall, right?”

  He nods. “A week ago, and it was beautiful.”

  “It’s all melted now.” I pout, upset to miss the first snowfall of the year in New York City since I’ve been born.

  “I heard you’re coming for Christmas. A photo shoot has been scheduled.” His eyebrows waggle as though it’s big doings.

  “I know. I booked it.” I chuckle. “It’s good PR to show a happy family.”

  He pushes a cup of his homemade salsa and a bowl of chips my way, knowing that’s my favorite. “I suppose so, but things are good?”

  I’m fairly sure Bennie knows about the deal. He’s heard me complain about Ford enough to know I wouldn’t just fall head over heels and accept an engagement, but I tread lightly anyway. “They’re great. But weird.”

  “Weird?” he asks, peeling some apples. No doubt making homemade baby food for Annabelle.

  “Things are developing.”

  “How so?”

  Oh, screw it. “Do you ever feel like…” I lean over and whisper, “The help?”

  He chuckles. “Hello.” He runs his hands down his Hawaiian shirt. “I’ve been wearing these as a hint and never been invited once.”

  In their defense, the Jacobs go to Europe way more often than Hawaii.

  “I think I’m falling for him.” I bite my lip.

  “Shouldn’t you have fallen before accepting that three-carat ring?” He glances down.

  I look and see my ring isn’t on my finger. Shit, I need it tonight. I’m so bad at wearing it, Ford’s always giving me shit, but that’s some high-priced jewelry.

  “Bennie,” I say, insinuating he understands.

  “Okay. So what if you are?”

  “I don’t come from this. I’m supposed to work for them, not be one of them.” It’s just another one of my fears where Ford and I are concerned. That even if Ford and I make it past day one post-sex, he could wake up one day and realize I’m not the kind of woman he’s supposed to be with.

  “Says who?”

  I blow out a breath, dipping a chip into the salsa. “The world. It’s just the way it is.”

  He shakes his head, dropping some apples into the blender. “That’s nonsense and you shouldn’t think that. You’re both the same species.”

  “Species?” I chuckle.

  “The heart doesn’t care about money or status or the hierarchy of the wealthy. That’s why there are fairy tales.”

  I dip another chip in the salsa. “There are fairy tales so the poor can have hope. And why do people think the prince is all that?”

  “You’re confusing me now, because from what you’re saying, you’re smitten with the prince.”

  I clench my fists on the counter. He’s right. “I can’t help it. I’ve always been a self-confident person, you know, but why do I allow money to intimidate me?”

  He leaves the blender and sits on the stool next to me, taking my hands. “Because it’s something you lacked. The security money gives people isn’t something you’ve ever had. They have the one thing you were always working for, so in essence, you feel as though they’re more successful than you. I can’t speak for the other generations, but Ford was born with that money. He didn’t earn it.”

  “He is now,” I say.

  “Yeah, and believe me, that kid worked hard to be where he is. No one handed him that hockey contract. He fought for it just like you did to get through college and get out of your car. You two are a lot more alike than you think.” He pats my hands and goes back to his task. “At some point in every rich family’s story, there was someone poor who had a dream. Remember that. So take that money you’re getting and build your own empire.”

  He smiles at me, making it clear that he knows the arrangement. I shouldn’t be surprised he knows the specifics. He knows everything that goes down in the Jacobs household.

  “Thank you,” I say, feeling so much better.

  He winks. “That’s what I do. I give pep talks. Imogen was just here…” He stops talking and looks at me with that smile that suggests that what happens in the kitchen, stays in the kitchen.

  I’m getting ready in one of the guest rooms when a knock lands on the door.

  I open it and see a box with a bow lying on the floor. Excitement bubbles in my stomach. Taking the box into the room, I open it. The note on top of the tissue paper is in Ford’s scrawling script.

  You didn’t think I’d forget, did you? If you’ll allow me, I’d love the honor of sliding this off your body later tonight. ~ Ford

  I undo the tissue paper to discover a champagne-colored dress with a slit high up the one side, just like he wanted. The dip in the fabric for my cleavage is equal on the front and the back. I’ve never in my life worn something this elegant or this revealing. My excitement turns to nausea, wondering whether I can pull this off.

  Digging in farther, I find another item wrapped in tissue paper with a note.

  * * *

  I’m going to be thinking about you wearing this all night. Torment me. ~ Ford

  * * *

  I blow out a breath, and sure enough, there’s a pair of panties that are barely there, merely a square of fabric. There’s no bra, but he did include little sticky things for my nipples. Does he go to these stores or do they just package it all for him?

  I lay it all out on the bed and head into the shower, where I shave and lotion every inch of my body.

  When it’s time to put the dress on, I step into it as there’s a knock on the door.

  “Hold on,” I say, holding together the back of my dress.

  I open the door to find Ford in a tuxedo. He looks phenomenal, as though he belongs in a men’s cologne ad. “I was going to send my sister to zip you up, but I want to do it.”

  I laugh as he slides into the room, shutting the door and locking it.

  “Now that’s a dress.” He stays a foot away, his gaze soaking me in. “Damn, don’t leave my side tonight.”

  I’m hyperaware of his gaze running all over my body. Unsure where we stand, I take his notes and behavior to mean that he wants to try again to have our night together, that after reflecting since Annabelle’s illness, he still wants to cross the line.

  He raises his finger and twirls it. I turn around. Stepping up behind me, Ford zips the dress but doesn’t pull away. I’m positioned in front of the mirror and he towers over me so it’s easy to catch a glimpse of us. A couple. An engaged couple.

  “Beautiful,” he whispers, staring into the mirror.

  I swallow hard and lock eyes with him in the mirror. “Yes.” But I’m talking about us, or even just him.

  “Did you like my gifts?”

  “I did. Thank you.”

  “You’re missing one thing.” He puts his hand in his pocket and holds my engagement ring in front of me. “If I find you without this
again, I’m going to spank you.”

  My eyes flare because I can tell from his voice that he’s serious. My panties grow wet with the thought of being bent over his lap in my thong. “I…”

  He kisses the nape of my neck and I close my eyes. The scent of his expensive cologne and the waft of heat from his body on my bare back add to the sensation.

  “We need to go now before we don’t make it to the party. Let’s go, beautiful.” His fingers brush a path down my arm until his hand locks with mine.

  I grab my clutch and we leave the confines of the bedroom, stepping out into the world as the soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Ford Jacobs. I repeat to myself that I can do this. And for some reason, with Ford at my side, I believe I can.

  We stop in the foyer, where Morgan is holding Annabelle. She’s getting so big, you can practically hold her on your hip now. She smiles and runs her hand down Ford’s face.

  “Love you, baby girl. Be good for your aunt and make sure she’s not doing anything naughty like having boys over.” Ford looks at his sister with a stern expression.

  Morgan rolls her eyes. “Give me some credit.”

  I say goodbye to Annabelle with a kiss to the top of her head and she reaches for my hair. I’m able to sneak away before she gets a hold of it though because if she did, we’d be here a while.

  “Call me if you need me? Call 911 if it’s really bad. Don’t wait for me,” Ford says. I gently nudge him toward the elevator, but he whirls around. “And no boys. Or friends. Or parties.” He points, but I give one last little shove and he stumbles into the elevator.

  “Relax. It’s just an orgy.” Morgan laughs, giving him a small wave as the elevator doors slide shut.

  “She’s kidding,” I say.

  He squeezes the bridge of his nose. “She’s only eighteen.”

  “And fully able to watch Annabelle. She’ll be asleep in an hour.”

  He blows out a breath.

  It’s endearing that he doesn’t want to leave Annabelle. I know she’s not actually mine, but I’m kind of ready for an adult night out, even if I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. There’ll be no interruptions tonight. As Ford places his hand on the small of my back when we reach the lobby, I wonder whether that’s a good or a bad thing.