Living with Her Fake Fiancé (The Loft Book 3)

by Noelle Adams

  Then a sound from the hallway startled her. She felt Brent stiffen, and she let him go and jumped back, afraid Steve and Michelle were about to walk in.

  They heard the faint sound of a door closing and looked at each other.

  “Must be Vince,” Brent said hoarsely.

  “Yeah.” She rubbed her mouth and tried to suppress a giggle. Didn’t really succeed.

  “Was it that bad?” Brent asked, turning his eyes back to her face.

  “No! Of course not. It was... really good.”

  “Was it?”

  “Didn’t you think it was good?”

  “Of course I thought it was good! It was the... the best thing ever. But I didn’t know if you’d think... you’d think it was...”

  “It was amazing.” She was grinning like an idiot now. “I’m serious, Brent. We’ve definitely managed to prove that you’re a phenomenal kisser.”

  “Really?”

  She laughed and gave him a little half hug. “Yes, really. I’m not lying to you. That was a world-class kiss. You’ve got nothing to worry about in that regard.”

  “Well, you did half of it.”

  “Yeah. I did.” She was momentarily self-conscious that she’d thrown herself into the kiss so eagerly, but then decided not to worry about it. That was what he’d wanted her to do. He needed practice, experience. And she was very happy to help him.

  Brent was breathing heavily. She could hear him. See it in the way his chest rose and fell. Her gaze drifted down and saw a bulge at the front of his jeans. He was still aroused.

  So was she. “So...” She had to start again. “So did you want to... do anything else?”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. Anything else.”

  “Like?”

  “Like—” She wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but it didn’t end up mattering.

  Because the lock in the front door turned just then, and Michelle and Steve came into the living room.

  Chloe jumped to her feet, startled and embarrassed and feeling ridiculously guilty.

  Brent moved a cushion into his lap.

  “Hey, guys,” Steve said with a friendly smile. He was a really good guy—smart and sensitive and kind of old-fashioned. “We just had the best dinner at that new Thai place.”

  “Oh really?” Chloe managed to say. She couldn’t think of any reason why she would have jumped to her feet, so she went to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water. “I’ve been wanting to try it.”

  “You should,” Michelle said. “It was delicious.” Her eyes moved between Brent and Chloe, and her expression changed. “What are y’all doing?”

  There was no way Chloe was going to admit that she and Brent had been practicing kissing, so she said the first thing that came into her mind. “We were working out a plan for him to pretend to be my fiancé for Mima.”

  “Oh.” Michelle’s expression relaxed into a smile. “I was wondering why you looked so embarrassed. It was like we’d caught you doing something naughty.”

  Chloe glanced over at Brent, and she almost giggled at the look he gave her.

  They had been doing something a little bit naughty.

  And she wasn’t ashamed of it at all.

  She was actually looking forward to doing it again.

  Four

  MORE THAN A WEEK LATER Brent was looking at his small closet and trying to figure out what to wear.

  It wasn’t something he normally thought much about. All his life, he’d grabbed for a pair of jeans and either a T-shirt or a flannel shirt. That was what he invariably put on. He didn’t wear anything else unless he was forced to go to a wedding or a funeral.

  But this morning he was going to meet Mima. He and Chloe were going to her parents’ house for breakfast, and then they all were going to church.

  It didn’t seem like a jeans sort of outing.

  He only had one suit, and he always felt stupid in it. But if Chloe needed him to wear it this morning, he would.

  But not everyone wore suits to church anymore. He’d never been to a Catholic Mass, so he didn’t know what was expected in terms of dress code. He’d actually looked on the internet for advice, and what he’d seen had been conflicting and unhelpful.

  What the hell was he supposed to wear?

  He’d already taken a shower and just had a towel wrapped around his waist. He dropped it, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and left his bedroom to walk across the hall and knock on Chloe’s door.

  Better to ask than wear the wrong thing and embarrass her.

  “Hold on,” she called out through the door. She was probably getting dressed like he was supposed to be doing, and he forced himself not to visualize what she might look like in there without clothes on.

  After a minute, she swung open the door, dressed in a little robe of a slippery fabric that clung to her skin. Before he could control them, his eyes slipped down to the curve of her full breasts, the even fuller curve of her hips.

  “Brent! You’re supposed to be getting dressed.”

  “I know.” In the past week and a half, ever since they’d bought the fake engagement ring, Brent had gotten comfortable enough around Chloe to have mostly normal conversations. It was only on the occasions when he was very aroused or overwhelmed with some other feeling that his words failed him. At the moment, he was okay to talk. “I just need some help.”

  “With what?” Her hair was loose and framing her face. She was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

  “What am I supposed to wear?”

  “Oh!” She was smiling now. “I thought you might be trying to back out.”

  “Of course not.” He frowned at her. “You really think I’d back out?”

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. It’s not exactly a normal favor for one friend to do for another.”

  “So? What you’re doing for me isn’t normal either.”

  They’d kissed every day for the past ten days. He’d counted every one of them, so he knew it was accurate. At some point in the evening, Chloe would come to his room or catch him somewhere private, and they’d kiss for a while. She claimed to enjoy it, and she certainly acted like she did. Brent looked hard but could see no signs that she was lying to salvage his feelings.

  And the part of him that could think rationally where Chloe was concerned was sure that such amazing kissing wasn’t likely to be one-sided.

  On the second day, she’d told him she thought they should take anything more than kissing slow, and he’d immediately agreed. He wanted to do more. Of course he did. But Chloe wouldn’t be doing this with him if he hadn’t needed help, and the last thing he wanted was to put any pressure on her.

  If they were going to do more than kiss, then he had to know for sure she wanted it.

  So he’d gone to bed hard and unsatisfied every night for a week and a half, his mind full of Chloe and his body aching for her.

  He’d kissed girls before but not very often and certainly nothing like the kissing he was doing with Chloe. He hadn’t realized how much it could be like torture—sweet, delicious torture—if it always stopped there.

  “Well, that’s true,” she admitted, flashing him a hint of a dimple that he hadn’t even realized she’d possessed until the past two weeks. “Let me go see what you have to wear.”

  He stepped aside to let her into the hall, and then he followed her into his room, grabbing for the pair of boxers he’d dropped on the floor earlier and putting them in his laundry basket.

  “You don’t have to wear a suit,” she said. “Some men do, but most of the younger men don’t. Some people wear jeans, but Mima would probably prefer you to wear something a little nicer.”

  “I don’t have any nice clothes.”

  “Do you have any khakis or something?” She was rooting through his closet and grabbed a blue button-down from a hanger—one he’d only worn twice.

  “Not really.” He opened the bottom drawer of his dresser where the clothes he never wore hung out.
He pulled out a pair of tan pants with cargo pockets.

  She eyeballed them. “Put them on and let me see.”

  He shook out the pants and glanced over at her. She was standing there with a teasing smile, obviously waiting for him to disrobe.

  It was an unspoken challenge. A friendly one, but a challenge nonetheless.

  Brent wasn’t going to let it go unanswered. He started to pull down his sweatpants and—as soon as she realized he didn’t have underwear on beneath them—she made a squeaking sound and whirled around, keeping her back to him.

  He chuckled as he grabbed a pair of boxers from his dresser and pulled them on.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I assumed you’d be wearing underwear. Do you normally go around commando?”

  “No. I just got out of the shower and pulled the pants on so I could ask you about what to wear.” He’d zipped and buttoned the trousers and then said, “Okay. They’re on.”

  She turned back around and gave him an assessing look. “They’re not bad. The pockets aren’t too ungainly. You don’t have any real dress pants?”

  “Just the ones that go with the one suit I own. I’ll wear them if you want me to.”

  “Nah. These are fine. Wear them with this blue shirt. Do you have a white T-shirt to wear under it?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got plenty of those.” He rifled through one of his drawers until he found a clean white undershirt and pulled it on before he pulled on the blue shirt. He buttoned and tucked and turned around so Chloe could inspect him.

  “That’s good. You look good.”

  “Really?” He went to peer at himself in the mirror. It wasn’t anything like the clothes he was normally comfortable in, but he didn’t look as bad as he’d feared—like some sort of bear playing dress-up.

  “See? It’s good. Mima will approve.” She came over to stand beside him, looking at him in the mirror and then smoothing down a wrinkle in his shirt. “Have you ever ironed a single piece of clothing?”

  “Of course not. Do people still iron clothes?”

  “Not very often. It’s fine. You look good. I need to get dressed now, or we’ll be late and my mom will give me a disapproving frown.”

  Brent knew Chloe well enough to realize that those disapproving frowns from her mother really bothered her—far more than he would have expected.

  She came across as confident and sure of herself, but she wasn’t always. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a mother who constantly criticized you. He’d never even met the woman, but he already resented Chloe’s mother.

  He combed out his hair and beard when Chloe left the room. Then he put on his shoes and socks and went to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee while he waited.

  Michelle was still sleeping, but Steve was up, stretched out on the couch and reading the newspaper in his favorite position.

  “Hey,” Steve said. “You ready for an Oscar-worthy performance?”

  Brent huffed. “We’ll see.”

  “It’s nice of you to do this for her.”

  Brent shrugged. He didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t say anything.

  Steve lowered the newspaper and eyed him. “You’re really okay with this whole thing?”

  “What thing?” Since Steve was talking softly, Brent came over and perched on the arm of the couch.

  “You know.” Steve waved toward the hallway. “Pretending like this. Isn’t it hard?”

  Brent was getting a heavy weight of suspicion in his gut. “Why?”

  “Because of...” Steve sat up straight. He was frowning. “Michelle and I know how you... I mean, you know we know...”

  Brent knew exactly what he was talking about now but didn’t want to admit it. “Know what?”

  “How you feel.” He waved his hand toward the hallway again. “About her.”

  Brent gave a quick look over his shoulder, but Chloe was still safely in her room. “There’s nothing to know.”

  “Come on, man. We’re not stupid. We know.”

  “Does she—”

  “No. No way. We’d never say anything, and it’s easier to see if you’re not directly involved. She used to think you didn’t like her because you wouldn’t talk to her.”

  “She thought I didn’t like her?”

  “Yep. She did. She was so confused because people always like her. It never occurred to her that you wouldn’t talk to her because you like her too much.”

  Brent liked Steve a lot. Things had started a little rough between them because Steve had been afraid that Brent was after Michelle—whom he’d been broken up with at that point—but they’d gotten over that quickly. And in the months since he’d moved into this apartment, Steve had become one of his best friends.

  He didn’t mind Steve knowing about his feelings for Chloe, but he wasn’t used to talking about them. He never talked about things like that.

  He looked at the floor and mumbled, “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Are you sure? Because it’s lasted a really long time for something that’s not a big deal.”

  Brent cleared his throat.

  “Okay. We don’t have to have a heart-to-heart. I just thought it might be kind of hard to pretend to be her fiancé when you might want to... you know...”

  Brent shook his head and angled the other man a wry look. “When I might want it for real?”

  “Yeah. Exactly that.”

  “It’s fine. I want to help her out. I don’t have any delusions.”

  “She likes you a lot.”

  “As a friend.”

  Steve raised one shoulder. “Well, yeah. Sorry, but you’re not really her type.”

  “I know I’m not. I’m not stupid. I never expected anything to happen. I can do this. I’m fine.”

  “Okay. But she’s a really understanding person. If you decide it’s too hard for you, just tell her. She’s not going to get mad at you or anything.”

  Brent nodded and stood up abruptly when he saw Chloe’s bedroom door open down the hall.

  She walked toward him, wearing a skirt in a blue-and-purple print with a sweater that emphasized her breasts. The top part of her hair was pulled back in a clip, but the rest of it hung down loose.

  She looked gorgeous. Brent’s heart did a stupid lurch.

  “Well?” Chloe said, twirling around in front of them in a way that made her skirt swirl. “What do you guys think? Will I do for Mass and a Mima meeting?”

  “You look great,” Steve said with a smile.

  Chloe’s eyes moved to Brent. He opened his mouth and then just nodded instead.

  Her mouth twitched. “I guess a nod is as much of a compliment as I’m going to get out of you, you honey-tongued devil.”

  She was teasing, and Brent didn’t mind. If he got offended every time someone joked about his inability to talk around women he found attractive, he’d be offended half his time on earth.

  She showed him and Steve the ring on her left hand. “So now that we’re properly engaged, let’s go get the introductions over with.” She came over to stand in front of Brent, putting a light hand on his chest. “You’re still okay with doing this?”

  “Y-yeah. Of course I am. I want to.”

  A smile spilled out of her eyes, although it only tilted up her lips slightly. “Thank you.”

  “You’re going to be late,” Steve intoned from behind the newspaper, which he’d raised in front of his face again.

  “We’re leaving. Tell Michelle we’re still on for shopping this afternoon. We’ll be back by one or two at the latest.”

  “I’ll tell her.”

  Chloe reached down to take Brent’s hand as they walked toward the front door of the apartment. “Come on. We’re starting being engaged right now.”

  BREAKFAST AND THE INTRODUCTIONS weren’t as awkward as Brent had been fearing, mostly because there were so many people there. All three of Chloe’s sisters and their husbands and children were gathered, along with her parents and Mima.

&n
bsp; The rest of the family was in on the ruse and had been instructed to say nothing to give it away, but they all stared at him in curiosity when they arrived, Chloe holding his hand and dragging him over to where she wanted him to stand.

  He followed her lead. He stayed quiet until Chloe had gotten Mima’s attention. Then she’d pulled him over and said, “Mima, this is Brent. My fiancé.”

  Mima looked a lot like he’d imagined. She’d probably looked like Chloe when she was younger—dark-haired, dark eyes, short, and curvy. She was wearing bright red lipstick and a black dress.

  She beamed at him widely—a lot like Chloe’s smile—and then gave him an enthusiastic hug. “Welcome to the family, Brent.”

  Brent felt stiff, but he returned the hug as best he could and mumbled something he hoped was appropriate.

  He was saved from further conversation when one of the kids spilled a glass of juice. After that, breakfast was a flurry of voices, laughter, food, and activity, and Brent was able to sit next to Chloe without talking.

  She’d occasionally say things to him, but more of her attention was on questions from her family and Mima. At one point, she moved his arm around her shoulders, and he kept it there.

  It wasn’t like he had a problem with putting his arm around her. But this wasn’t real, and he knew it.

  Breakfast lasted about an hour, and then the whole clan piled into cars to drive over to the church for Mass. Brent once again followed Chloe’s lead. He’d been raised a Baptist and had no idea about any of the activities or rituals during the service, but he watched Chloe and did what she did.

  It was all fine. It wasn’t particularly boring or drawn out. There were plenty of things for him to look at. And Chloe wanted him there.

  He was feeling pleased with the way his first introduction as her fiancé was going when they were filing out of the aisles of the church. They’d already made it clear that they weren’t having a big lunch today because Mima needed to recover after her long trip yesterday. She wasn’t bedridden, but she only had a few good hours of energy a day. She could only have one big event each day.

  Chloe gave Mima a hug before they parted ways at the church.