Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Ajme Williams

  Inside, my heart broke. I picked up my panties, pushed my dress back down, and made my way to my room. There was a saying about being careful about what you wished for. For so long, I’d wanted Mo. I’d wanted him to take my V-card, but it was more than that. I wanted his love. His respect. I wanted to give that back to him. He’d made one part of my wish come true, but because the other parts weren’t there, the dream was hollow. Empty. In fact, it felt worse than the longing for it. But I couldn’t let him make me feel bad about it. I wouldn’t be ashamed. It wasn’t sordid.

  I took a shower, too, but I wasn’t washing away regret. I used the time to cry. He was attracted to me. He cared for me. Why couldn’t he let himself be with me? Yes, I was his friend’s daughter, but my father clearly loved and trusted him. If he knew we cared about each other, he’d support that, wouldn’t he?

  Later, as I lay in bed, I tried to reframe tonight as a stepping stone. He’d regretted what had happened four years ago, and yet, tonight, he’d lost himself in me. That had to mean something, right? He didn’t go around fucking just anyone. He’d been with me because I meant something to him. Because he found me attractive. Maybe he’d come around, after all. As we made our way through this marriage to help my father, perhaps he’d see how good I was for him, and he’d let me love him the way I knew he deserved. Maybe he’d love me back.

  I rolled on to my side, wanting to hold on to the positive thoughts, but I couldn’t stop the doubt. What if he could never let go of his concern about betraying my father? What if after the year or whenever he felt the need for this marriage to be done, he sent me on my way? Or what if, after tonight, his guilt had him backing out and not helping my father? I had so much to lose. My heart. My father’s legacy. My own pride. Sleep came in fits as the worst case scenario haunted my dreams.

  13

  Maurice

  It was official, I wasn’t the good man I’d thought I was. The proof of that involved a long list.

  I’d fucked my best friend’s daughter.

  Not just fucked her but took her virginity.

  I was rough with her, rutting like a feral beast.

  Her first time was hard on my kitchen table instead of slow, sweet, caring in a bed.

  I didn’t use a condom.

  Afterward, instead of tending to her, I’d been rude and selfish. I abandoned her.

  Yep. I was a fucking jerk. No wonder I couldn’t sleep. All night, what I’d done to her haunted me, the guilt and self-loathing made more intense when my dreams took a turn toward erotic. What sort of sick fuck had wet dreams after I’d betrayed my friend and hurt Brooke? Me, apparently.

  I lifted the cover to see my fully erect dick. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ignored him as I rose just before dawn. But the fucker wouldn’t go down, forcing me to jerk him off. And because it turned out that I was weak and a sexual pervert, when the blow came, I imagined Brooke’s sweet lips around my dick, sucking me off.

  Hating myself, I dressed in jeans and a shirt, then headed out to the barn to check in with my foreman. At least the ranch was running well. I had one area in my life that was functioning as it should.

  With everything as it should be on the ranch, I took a short walk in the crisp, morning air as the sun made its ascent over the prairie. What was wrong with me? More the point, how could I fix this? I kept telling Brooke that it was wrong for us to be together, and then I betrayed that truth by taking her on my kitchen table. She’d insist that she was a grown woman and could make her own choices. She’d be right, except she was still so young. She didn’t have the lifetime of experience that I’d had. She looked at me like I was a fucking hero, but I was far from that.

  But every time I tried to make her see the wrongness of us, she dismissed it. The more I explained it, the more I hurt her. She seemed to take it personally. I didn’t want to give her pain. I just wanted her to understand that the problem was me.

  When I headed back to the house, I was determined to talk to her rationally. I needed to find the right words to make her understand that while I cared for and respected her, and yes, found her attractive, I couldn’t be the man she wanted or needed.

  Back in the kitchen, I made a pot of coffee and threw together a large omelet that I cut in half to share with her. It was nearing seven, and she still hadn’t made it to the kitchen. Concerned, I headed back to her bedroom.

  I knocked on the door. “Brooke?”

  When there was no answer, I opened the door and peeked in. The bed was made. Had she slept in it? Did she go running home back to her father? A part of me hoped she had. But if she’d told Frank what had happened, chances were that he’d be here now pointing a shotgun at me.

  I went back to the kitchen, ate breakfast, and then showered and put on a suit. I arrived at City Hall earlier than usual, so there was no sign of Sinclair or Trina. I went to Brooke’s office and knocked.

  “Yes?”

  I opened the door and looked in on her. There were dark circles under her eyes, and yet, she was still so beautiful. I was hit in the gut with twin emotions of guilt and longing. “Are you all right?”

  She sighed and looked back down at her paperwork. “Yes.”

  “Listen, Brooke, we need to talk.”

  “Your lawyer is in your office.”

  “What?”

  “She’s got the money, I guess.”

  I blew out a breath. “We’ll talk later, then.”

  She didn’t respond. As I walked to my office, I hated how I’d hurt her, but maybe her anger and resentment was a good thing. Perhaps she finally understood how wrong it was for us to be together. I didn’t like the coolness between us, but if that’s what it took for her to let go of her crush on me, I’d accept it. Clearly, she was stronger than me because I had no willpower when it came to resisting her.

  I walked into my office. “Jeannette. You’re here early.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t come in with your wife.”

  “I had some ranch business this morning.” I tried to act nonchalant as I sat behind my desk. “Do you want coffee or something?”

  “No. Your wife got me some already,” she said, holding up a cup.

  I winced at her continued use of wife and hoped Trina hadn’t slipped in and overheard that.

  “What can I do for you?” I asked.

  She waved a paper. “Sign this, and the first half of the money transfers to your account.”

  I took the paper and grabbed a pen.

  “Just a reminder, Mo, that you don’t get the second half unless you stay married a year—”

  “Or have a child,” I know. The image of my come dripping from Brooke’s pussy flashed in my head. My dick betrayed me by getting excited at the thought, even as my heart stuttered to a stop in my chest at the idea of impregnating Frank’s daughter.

  “One more thing,” Jeannette said.

  My hand hovered over the signature line as I looked up at her.

  “If the marriage doesn’t last a year, you’ll have to return this half, too.”

  “What?” My brain skidded to a halt at that.

  “I didn’t think you heard that part.”

  “You didn’t tell me that part.” Did she?

  “Your aunt seemed to think you were the type of man to cheat the system,” she, said arching a brow at me. “She wanted you to have a real marriage.”

  “I’m not doing this for the money.” Well, I was. “What I mean is, I’m not doing it for me. Surely she’d understand that.”

  “If she were here, we could ask her. But she’s not, and I have to abide by her wishes as set forth in the trust. If you sign that and get the money, you need to be married at least a year, or you owe it back.”

  Fuck. I sat back. I’d known about the year to get the second half, but I didn’t recall having to pay back the trust if I didn’t at least make it to the first year. I might have been able to walk away from the second installment. I didn’t need the money, but it would be a hardship to pa
y it back if this fake marriage went sideways.

  “Do you need to talk to Brooke about it?” Jeannette asked.

  I remembered Brooke saying she could carry out this ruse for a year. Of course, at the time, she had stars in her eyes for me. Now, she might not think so. Then again, I knew she’d do anything to help her father, and this was our only shot. So, the question was, could I endure the torture of wanting a woman I couldn’t have living in my house for a year?

  I shook my head to Jeannette’s statement. “No.” I signed the paperwork, my gut roiling as I passed it back to her.

  She gave me a disapproving look but nodded. “I’ll transfer the money now. It will be available this afternoon.”

  I stood, giving her the cue that it was time to go. She rose from her chair and shook my hand. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Mr. Mayor.”

  I nodded, even though I had no clue what I was doing. I escorted Jeannette out and was glad that Trina still wasn’t in. I checked my watch as she was usually quite punctual.

  I went back to my office. I heard movement behind me and saw Brooke leaving her office and going over to the file cabinets lining the wall behind Trina’s desk. I wondered if Jeannette was right in that I should let Brooke know about the penalty for ending the marriage early.

  I decided not to. It might add an extra layer of guilt or stress, and after last night, I didn’t want to add to it. If she wanted to leave once things with her dad were settled, I couldn’t in good conscience make her stay. Of course, I wasn’t sure how I’d pay back the trust if that happened. So maybe I did need to let her know. If she was going to back out, now was the time while the money was still available for me to refuse or send back. Not able to decide the best course of action, I went back to my office and got to work. An hour later, my cell phone rang.

  “Mayor Valentine,” I answered.

  “Mr. Mayor. Simon Stark.”

  Ah, hell, what did he want? “Mr. Stark. How can I help you?”

  “I understand you’re about to save your neighbor from financial ruin.”

  “What if I am?” I checked my watch, wondering if the money was transferred yet.

  “Are you against me just as a matter of course, or is there something about this particular property?”

  Both, I thought. “Frank Campbell is a good friend. That land has been in his family for generations.”

  Stark made a hmm sound. “Well, he’s lucky to have a friend like you. I’d like to set up a meeting, as I need a favor.”

  “I don’t do favors.”

  He laughed. “Nothing untoward, I assure you.”

  He talked like he came out of some old British novel.

  “I’m putting on an event. I’d like to talk to you about it. Do you have time today? I can be there this afternoon, around three.”

  What was the saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I checked my calendar. “I can give you fifteen or twenty minutes at that time.”

  “Excellent. I’ll see you then.”

  I needed air. Between my personal problems and now Stark coming in, I felt like there was a vise around my lungs. I grabbed my coat and headed out.

  “I’m going to the bank. I’ll be back in an hour or so,” I told Trina, who was finally at her desk. I didn’t wait for her reply.

  For once, something went as planned. The transfer of the money came through, and with the financials Frank gave me, I made the necessary payments. I felt good about helping Frank, and at the same time, that tightness in my chest constricted even more. If Brooke and I couldn’t make it a year in this marriage, I’d be the one in financial straits in repaying this money. How I was going to go a year lusting after her and not touching her was beyond me, but I had to find a way, or I was hosed.

  When I arrived back at the office, I called Brooke in to tell her it was a done deal. Her father’s farm was safe. I could see in her eyes she was grateful and relieved, but she was also annoyed. I couldn’t blame her. I fucked her and then abandoned her.

  “I appreciate all you’ve done for us,” she said, mustering a smile.

  I nodded. “About last night—”

  She held up a hand. “I know where you stand. You don’t need to continue to hammer it in.”

  I was a fucker. “I hurt you. I hate that I did that.”

  “You did hurt me, but not by touching me. You hurt me every time you tell me why I’m not good enough—”

  “That’s not it.”

  “I might be younger than you, Mo, but I’m mature enough to be honest about how I feel.”

  She was right. I denied my feelings. When I didn’t, when I gave in to my want for her, I ended up feeling worse, and I handled it wrong. All the more reason to keep away from her.

  My phone buzzed. I didn’t want to answer it, and yet, I desperately wanted to have Brooke stop looking at me like I was an asshole.

  “Mr. Stark is here. He says he has an appointment with you,” Trina said, her tone clearly not happy. So, what else was new?

  “Ah, yes. I forgot to mention that to you. Send him in.” I looked up at Brooke. “Simon Stark is here.”

  She nodded. “I’ll see you later, I guess.”

  I really wasn’t in the mood to see Stark, but I put on my mayor’s face and shook his hand when he came in.

  “How can I help you?” I asked, motioning for him to sit in a chair. I didn’t bother to offer him coffee.

  “I’m hosting an event at my place, but I understand that I need a permit for it. Even on my own property.”

  “Depends on the size and purpose.”

  “I’m hosting a fundraiser for Jay Wallace. He’s running for mayor.”

  I clenched my jaw. So, this was Stark’s next move. He was going to get a mayor that was more amenable to his needs. I wondered if getting back at Sinclair was his main motivation or just icing on the cake.

  “I see. Well, it only requires paperwork. I’m not sure why you needed to see me about that.”

  “I know that you’re not running again, which is why I’m putting my support with Wallace. I wanted to let you know that. I know your deputy mayor is running, and while she seems quite capable, she doesn’t seem to have enough regard for the businesses—”

  “Farming is a business. Big business, in Salvation.”

  “Yes, of course. But it’s not the only business, and you and I both know that family farms will be almost extinct before too long.”

  I wondered if his middle name was Callous. “Regardless, you can talk with Ms. Lados about getting the proper paperwork.”

  He stood and left the office. I sank into my chair and took a moment, wondering how much longer this day would be.

  My door opened, and Brooke came in.

  “I have that report you asked for.” She was all formal and professional, which is what I wanted. The last thing I needed was for my office to get wind of my marriage. At the same time, it was like salt on a wound. I cursed my dick for having too much influence over me.

  “Thank you.”

  “Also, you didn’t tell Trina that Stark was coming in.”

  “Didn’t I?” I couldn’t remember.

  “It disrespects her when you don’t let her know things like that. She can’t do her job if you don’t keep her informed.”

  Fuck, my character was quickly going down the tubes. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll say something to her.”

  Feeling like I needed air again, I rose and followed Brooke out of my office.

  “Ah, Trina. Were you able to help Mr. Stark with his permit?” I asked her.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. By the way, I’m sorry I didn’t mention his coming down. Brooke says that was disrespectful of me and undermines your work.”

  She smiled, but I could tell it wasn’t sincere. “I appreciate that, sir.”

  I wondered if it was Stark that had her in a mood or Brooke. I was well aware that Trina wasn’t taking to Brooke. But Trina didn’t take to many people, so
I hoped things would settle down.

  “I’m going out again,” I said to her. “If you need me, I’ve got my cell phone.”

  She nodded.

  Fresh air wasn’t going to fix what was wrong with me and my life, but at least I could wallow in my missteps without an audience.

  14

  Brooke

  When I imagined being married to Mo, it involved happiness and romance. But as the next week ticked by, there was none of either. At the office, Mo pawned off more and more work that kept me away from him. When he did talk to me, it was formal, almost clipped.

  At home, I regularly made dinner, as it was something I was used to doing, and I found it calming. He’d eat with me, but he ate quickly. Our conversations were very surface stuff. How was your day? Wasn’t the weather nice? Every now and then, he’d make some comment about us being friends, which I knew was to remind me that we couldn’t be more than that. Or maybe he was reminding himself. It was infuriatingly frustrating to know he was into me but denying himself.

  The only good that had come out of this arrangement was that my father was no longer at risk of losing the farm. I did enjoy my father’s recounting of how he told Simon Stark to shove it. And, of course, saving my father’s farm was what all this was about. Mission accomplished. I couldn’t really complain that Mo wasn’t the husband I’d wanted, because that wasn’t the plan. It had been my hope, but clearly, it had been a foolish dream. As it had always been.

  Like Mo, I focused on work. He might be avoiding me, but I did the best work I could. I suppose part of my goal was to impress him. Maybe if he saw how professional and competent I was, he would stop seeing me as a girl. But also, I wanted the respect of Sinclair and even Trina, although I wasn’t going to hold my breath for her to like me. In fact, it felt like the more I did, the more Trina seemed to resent me. But I wasn’t the type of person to do substandard work to appease someone else’s feelings.