Page 10 of His Fake Fiancé

“We need to go on a date.”

She looked at him, and felt her eyebrows scrunch together. “What? Why?”

He waved his hand toward the window. “We need to convince people this is real. That we’re together, you know, and getting married and everything.”

“Jake.” She stood and walked over to the window. His bedroom was on the north side of the house, and overlooked the workshop and the barn, which were a distance away. Although she couldn’t see it from here, Stone Creek was straight north. Her bedroom there faced south, toward the Triple C. When she was younger, she always imagined that if she concentrated hard enough, squinted just the right way, she could not only see the Callahan house, but could actually see Jake’s bedroom window.

She was such a fool. “Do you really think this is going to work? That anyone is going to believe you and I are… you know, together like that?”

Jake moved next to her, bumped his shoulder against hers. “Of course. It’s not that big a stretch. I mean, we’ve known each other forever.”

She curled her fingers into her palms, digging her nails into her skin. Why was she doing this? She was supposed to be telling him she’d changed her mind. That she couldn’t do this. She looked over at him.

He was looking at her, a beautiful smile on his beautiful face. The belief in his gaze made her want to cry. He was counting on her to help him. And yes, he’d done that a lot over the years, but that’s what friends were for, right? And, sure, their relationship was a little one sided these days, but that was her fault. She just didn’t like disappointing people. So, when Jake asked her for something, she said yes.

And it wasn’t just Jake. It was usually easier to go with the flow at home, as well. More often than not, she agreed to do things just because it was easier than listening to one of her brothers bitch and moan about one thing or another. And, as long as no one got hurt, what difference did it really make if she had to cancel her plans so someone else could get something they needed done? It wasn’t like she had a whole lot going on anyway.

“Come on,” he said, and grabbed her hand. He entwined their fingers, and she soared and then sank. Her palm was sweaty, and she wanted to snatch it back, but she didn’t. Because she was a fool who couldn’t let go, even when she knew she should.

He led her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She followed, her body going along with it, even while her mind screamed to slow down. “What about Olivia?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Sundays are Olivia and Grandma days. If you want to bring her, we can see if we can pry her away from Mama. Either way, we’re doing this boyfriend/girlfriend thing.”

This was fine, and didn’t send her pulse thrumming like the ground during a stampede. She just needed to remember that, no matter what happened, she needed to protect herself. “I still don’t think this is going to work, Jake.”

He looked at her over his shoulder and gave her one of his patented, panty-melting grins. “Oh, ye of little faith. Trust me, this will work.”

And, God save her, she did trust him. No matter how dumb that sounded. Or how dangerous.

Jake pushed his plate empty plate aside and grabbed his milkshake. He could never resist the strawberry cheesecake milkshakes that his not quite ex-sister-in-law made. Isabella always put a little extra strawberry puree in for him. One of the perks of her knowing him—and his mile wide sweet tooth—since he was a little kid.

Claire sat across from him in the booth, using her fork to push her half-eaten food around her plate. He’d offer to finish it for her, but it was some sort of salad and, honestly, it didn’t look appealing. She didn’t even have any ranch dressing on it. Mama had already made plans to take Olivia with her to her book club this afternoon, so it was just the two of them.

He nudged her shin with his foot under the table. She jumped so high he swore she came close to smacking her head into the ceiling.

“You okay?” He reached over and took her hand. Her fingers were icy. With a frown, he sandwiched her hand between his and gave a squeeze, hoping to warm her up.

She smiled, but it didn’t look right. “I’m fine.”

He might not be smart, but he could tell when someone was trying to bullshit him. And he didn’t like it, especially not coming from her. She was supposed to be his best friend, and she was definitely his oldest friend. Sure, their relationship had shifted over the years, especially the last couple, and yeah, a lot of the times they seemed like they were just going through the motions…

When had that happened? And why the hell had he let it happen?

He opened his mouth, but then snapped it closed because he didn’t know what to say. He needed some time to get his thoughts together. When he got flustered, or worried, his thoughts twisted themselves around each other, making a big knot he had a hard time unravelling.

“Are you finished?” It was a safe topic, which was good, because nice and safe and easy was how he liked it. That way, people wouldn’t see what an idiot he was. He’d learned over the years that if he smiled, maybe gave a nudge and a wink, people forgot about everything else. He squeezed her fingers.

She nodded and squeezed back. Some of the weird tension he didn’t realize was weighing in his chest, shifted. Her smile softened at the edges, turning into something more genuine. That was much better.

He grabbed his wallet and dropped a couple of twenties on the table. It was more than enough to cover their meal and leave a hefty tip for Isabella. Just because his brother Owen was an idiot didn’t mean Jake had to be a douche. Isabella would have a fit when she saw how much he’d overpaid. He imagined an argument that eventually turned physical, with his tiny sister-in-law wrestling him to the ground and physically stuffing the money back in his pocket. She might be small, but she was mighty. And stubborn. Which meant they needed to get out of here now.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed Claire’s hand again, and scooted out of the booth, urging her to her feet. He’d never admit it out loud, but he liked the feel of her hand in his. Not that it was a big surprise. If there was one thing he was all about, it was touch. He loved the feel of soft, smooth skin against his fingertips. The way a woman’s curves fit against him, like they were puzzle pieces, interlocking to make something one step closer to whole.

She didn’t try to pull her hand out of his, and a little trickle of pleasure wound through him. Which was weird. It must be because he needed this whole fiancé thing to work. Her making a scene would definitely not help the whole we’ve-taken-our-relationship-to-the-next-level thing.

He pulled her against his side, draping his arm over her shoulder. Unlike last night, she didn’t tense up. She leaned into him, wrapped her arm around his waist. It was definitely intimate. The perfect next step in operation convince-the-population-of-Redding-that-Jake-Callahan-was-a-changed-man.

He steered them out the door and onto the sidewalk. The late afternoon was sunny, but there was a bite to the air. Claire shivered and he pulled her closer.