Falling for His Fake Fiancée (Book 2, Girls' Night Trilogy)

by Gillian Blakely

  He sighed. “They act like I lost a limb, or something.”

  “It’s just a shock. Unexpected. And well―”

  She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Peter had died.

  Accidents didn’t get more serious than that. He was trying not to think of it. If he let his thoughts wonder in that direction too long his chest started to hurt until he could barely breathe. Maybe one day he’d come to grips with it all. One day. Not today.

  He dug into the sandwich and put a handful of chips on his plate before handing the bowl back.

  “So you were telling me about this room. And what you’re working on.” He needed the distraction. Any distraction.

  He’d had two days of relative calm thanks to Gretchen and suddenly the worry over his family’s arrival was clawing at him. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it...their fear, their worry. JJ would be the worst. They’d always been close.

  Gretchen must have seen the look on his face because she pulled the chair over and sat down in front of him. She reached into the bowl and carefully selected a chip.

  “Don’t worry about them. They’re going to worry. You can’t stop them. And they’re probably feeling a little guilty too, which they shouldn’t. You’ll figure it out. And if it gets to be too much, I’ll kick them out.”

  She sounded fierce and protective and humorous all at once. The tightness in his chest eased.

  “Thanks.” That seemed to be all he said to her lately.

  “As for me...” She gave him a quick, dazzling smile that jolted him out of his downward spiral. “I have a side business that I’ve been working at for a few years. Graphic design. I do notepads, cards, party sets.”

  “Party sets?”

  She nodded and stood. After selecting a clear plastic bag from the shelf she handed it to him. Red and blue trains filled the cellophane.

  “They usually include a banner, cupcake toppers, wrappers for water bottles. All based around a theme or color scheme. I’ve done a few custom ones where the names or monograms are included. Those are fun.”

  “People actually buy this stuff?”

  Gretchen sighed even though she was used to that response. For some people, if it wasn’t sold at a big box store, it didn’t exist. That made breaking in and making a living so much harder. But she’d been devoting all her free time to learning about licensing and how to get her products into small boutiques.

  She reached over and plucked a white picture frame from the shelf. “This is from the first party pack I sold.” It was the Cinderella set. Pink and silver and champagne colored, complete with tiaras and glass slippers. Little Sara had adored it and her smile in the picture said so. She and her mom stood next to the beautifully decorated table, influenced heavily by the design mock-up Gretchen included with each set.

  “Wow. By comparison…Fairchild birthday parties were generic.”

  “I bet you had just as much fun.”

  He shrugged.

  “It’s really for the parents.”

  “Living vicariously through their kids.”

  “You got it.” Her own parties growing up had been few and far between. And the ones her mom had thrown were lackluster, even to a wide eyed child. One year she’d forgotten to send out invitations so no one came. Another year, she invited their neighbors…old people who only came out of pity. She had exactly one photo of a childhood birthday party. She kept that photo in the bottom of an old shoebox at the back of the closet. It reminded her of how far she’d come, of how far she wanted to go.

  “I’m amazed you have time for all this.”

  “Yeah, because teaching five year olds how to tie their shoes takes so much time.”

  “I just meant I’m impressed. Your creativity, the level of detail. You’ve got instructions in here. Very professional. You should be proud.”

  She was. She was also confused, wondering if she could make a go of it if she had more time. There was always summer. But what about after that?

  “You don’t think it’s silly? I mean when there’s party supplies at the local store?”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “No. What’s silly about wanting to make your children happy?”

  And just like that, the last bit of her heart gave itself over to Greg Fairchild.

  She returned the picture to its spot of honor, where she’d be reminded of what a pretty party she could create. For the first time since she’d entered Greg’s hospital room, there was an uncomfortable silence between them. It stretched on as he finished his sandwich. She put the party set away and then returned to the notepad design she’d been working on when he’d entered the room.

  “What were you working on when I made you jump out of your skin?”

  “A customized notepad design. They requested navy stripes and a goldenrod monogram.”

  “How long does it take you to do each design?”

  “The initial concept? A while. I’m a tweaker. But these are just orders of designs I already have available. I have a file on my computer for each one so all I have to do is change the monogram, save a copy and send the proof. Once they approve that, I send it to the printer.”

  Whatever he was going to say was halted when her doorbell rang. As a single woman, she couldn’t be too careful, so she looked out the front window to see who it was.

  “Ronny drives a Jeep Cherokee, right?”

  “Yeah. They here?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “Would you help me up?” he asked.

  “Of course.” Once he was standing she paused to make sure he was steady on his feet. At least, she told herself that was the reason. But the truth was, she liked touching him. Somehow, holding his hands, looking into his eyes was more intimate than either of the times she’d made love. The fact that he didn’t pull away made her foolish heart hopeful.

  But nothing had changed. She still couldn’t bet the farm on a future with him. Not yet. Not when there was so much left unsaid. Not when he was recovering from emotional and physical trauma.

  “I’ll go let them in.”

  He gave a single, if somewhat terse, nod. She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she exited. Men. Or alpha men, she should say. Always had to be the tough guy.

  The two men on her doorstep were as lick smackingly delicious as their younger brother. Tall with wide shoulders that filled out their sweaters to perfection. Dark hair, bright blue eyes that could seduce a woman at ten paces. Was it any wonder she’d fallen for Greg? He was serious when he needed to be, light hearted and fun loving the rest of the time.

  The two elder Fairchild brothers were currently having a dispute about a ski bunny. Their arms waved and they didn’t even notice she’d opened the door. That was the other thing she’d always enjoyed about the Fairchild household. It was fun and noisy and full of love. Her own home had only been noisy when her mother’d come home drunk or worse.

  “You guys made it,” she said by way of greeting.

  Ronny, the eldest, turned to her with an enormous grin. He was the jokester. And she swore that somehow they’d mixed him and Thomas up at birth. Thomas wasn’t the middle son, no way. He was far too serious and responsible to be the middle. But they certainly weren’t twins.

  Ronny stepped across the threshold and pulled her into a one armed squeeze/hug. “Gretchen! Thank you for taking care of our boy.”

  He released her and continued into the living room.

  “We came as soon as we got your message,” Thomas said, stepping past her. His greeting, while far more subdued than his brother’s was just as heartfelt.

  She closed the door behind him, eager to block the chill.

  “Come on in and I’ll let Greg know you’re here.” Not that he didn’t already know, of course.

  They’d no sooner stepped into the living room when Greg joined them. Once again she wanted to fume about hard headed men. Sans crutches, his movements were slow but otherwise showed no sign of pain or injury. But she was overcome with emotion
as Ronny and then Thomas strode forward and pulled their brother into a solid hug. She wasn’t sure what they said to each other and she felt like making herself scarce to give them privacy but they hogged the doorway.

  In fact, the three brothers dwarfed her already small cottage.

  She turned back to the living room and busied herself with straightening magazines and the remote controls. Next up: throw pillows and the angora blanket she kept folded on the bottom shelf of the ottoman.

  When she turned back, Ronny had Greg’s cheek and jaw clasped in a massive hand, his head ducked an inch so he could meet Greg’s gaze. Greg had removed the bandage over his right temple before yesterday’s shower. Ronny inspected the ugly bruise and angry scratch. She needed to see about getting another bandage for it but she didn’t think Greg would go for it. He struck her as the type of man who didn’t like “stuff” on him.

  After a moment, they broke apart, each taking a step back. She was pretty sure that that was as close and emotional as these three had ever been. The tension in the room was as thick as her grandmother’s meatloaf.

  “Ronny, Thomas, let me take your coats. That must have been a long drive.” She was pleased as punch that she’d remembered her manners. Her mother had never set much of an example. While she’d required Gretchen to say yes and no ma’am, that was about where it ended. Being a good hostess was not a lesson in her mother’s repertoire.

  “It would have been faster if we hadn’t hit traffic,” Ronny said, handing over the lovely Northface coat.

  Thomas shook his head and shrugged out of his tailored wool jacket. “It would have been faster if you hadn’t gotten lost.”

  This was the other thing she loved about the Fairchild clan. How close they were.

  “Boys, boys...” Gretchen teased. Not having brothers, she hadn’t known what she’d been missing until she’d met JJ. The Fairchild men had displayed enough protective instincts over the years to win her devotion. Without a father figure in her life, Mr. Fairchild had grilled past suitors during a few cookouts. And Ronny had made it clear that he had her back.

  After hanging the coats on the coat rack in the hall she returned to find Greg bracing himself against the armrest. She couldn’t imagine what kind of pain he was enduring. But his pride was too damn strong.

  “Hey look. JJ’s here,” she said quickly and pointed out the front window. As Ronny and Thomas turned to look, she reached for Greg’s hand and helped him into the seat.

  The grateful look he shot up at her heated her blood and made her melt a little. Or perhaps it was the delicious current that travelled up her arm every time their skin touched. While she mentally chastised him, she knew she could be equally stubborn so she remained silent.

  “Where?” Ronny asked a few moments later.

  “Oh, I thought it was her car. Come to think of it, I bet Joe’s got a limo waiting for them at the airport. What do you guys want to drink? I’ve got soda and beer.”

  “Beer would be great,” Ronny replied easily and settled onto the opposite couch. Thomas mirrored his brother.

  She handed Greg the remote and then headed for the kitchen. Popping the cap on two bottles of beer, she soaked in the deep male voices coming from her living room. Funny how she hosted the girls in that room at least once a month and it’d never felt so alive.

  It was a feeling she could get used to.

  After she poured herself and Greg a glass of soda and added them to the tray she checked to see if there was a text from Cindy. Gretchen didn’t like flying and the fact that two of her friends were traversing the country this weekend put her a little on edge.

  When she came back with the tray, the TV was on and turned to a sports channel. Figured. But she was pleased to find the men laughing.

  “So Greg tells us you’re to be our sister in law,” Ronny said, face straight.

  Shock made her stumble and she almost pitched the tray of drinks into his lap. Somehow she managed only a few rattles of glass against the metal tray before settling it onto the ottoman. She shot Greg a look as she handed him his drink. He was telling his brother’s her most embarrassing moments? Was this payback for making him to use crutches?

  Well, she might not have grown up with brothers, but it was time to turn over a new leaf. She could be confident and easy going.

  “Well, we were waiting to tell everyone at once,” she said as sweetly and innocently as she could. Then she settled onto the sofa as near to Greg as she dared. With a courage she’d never felt before she covered Greg’s hand with her own and watched Thomas’s jaw drop, followed quickly by Ronny’s.

  Greg’s skin was warm beneath hers and he sat statue still. Served him right.

  “It was rather sudden. But Greg’s proposal was so sweet, how could I say no?”

  “Proposal?” Thomas croaked.

  Gretchen could have taken pity on the wide eyed men but Greg squeezed her hand. Then, as if that wasn’t close enough, he flipped his hand over and laced his fingers with hers. She couldn’t resist a few more embellishments.

  “I’ve loved him for a long time. But―“

  “I was clueless,” Greg inserted.

  Her head swivelled to the right and his blue eyes locked with hers. His words were so close to the mark it was scary and there was enough sexual tension to melt her into a puddle.

  “He chased all the wrong girls,” Gretchen teased, hoping no one noticed how breathless she sounded.

  He didn’t break eye contact as he grimaced. “I apologized for that, honey.”

  He couldn’t have any idea what the words were doing to her heart.

  What had started as a joke was quickly becoming far too real, at least for her.

  “You two sure can keep a secret,” Thomas murmured and Gretchen glanced his way. Was she really that good of an actress?

  Thomas was right though. She could, and had, kept a secret. She’d kept it too well. Greg hadn’t guessed. Neither had JJ. The time had never been right for them.

  Gretchen waited three long heartbeats before snatching her hand back and dissolving into laughter. Only she knew the giggles were fake; it wasn’t really a laughing matter.

  “Oh, I wish I had all that on camera. You guys should see your faces.”

  Thomas’s brows lifted in question.

  “You believed I was secretly in love with your brother.” She added a giggle for good measure.

  Ronny joined in first. “I don’t know, Greggo. I think you met your match. She’s a keeper.”

  A blush singed her cheeks. “I figured it was the only way the nurses would let me in to see him,” she explained.

  “Good thinking,” Ronny said.

  “Did you guys have a good time?” Greg asked, effectively changing the topic. The humor and passion from moments ago had fled his voice and Gretchen got a sinking feeling. Had she said something wrong?

  The guys regaled them with tales from the slopes. Despite Thomas’s more reserved personality he could tell a good story, complete with impressions. She was happy to see that the light hearted banter seemed to be improving Greg’s spirits. It made her ache deep inside when he was gloomy.

  An hour passed before she knew it. She brought the guys a new beer and topped off Greg’s soda. Starting to think about dinner even though she’d had lunch and snacked on chips most of the afternoon, her stomach was at stage two on the Hunger-Meter.

  “Do you need any help getting him home?” Thomas asked her when she’d settled on the opposite end of Greg’s couch.

  The whole situation felt homey. Like they were a real couple and his family was dropping by for a visit. She couldn’t let herself get lost in the fantasy of it though. That’s all this was. A tragedy she’d wound up as a fantasy in her head. But a man had died. She needed to remember that.

  “The doctor wants him to stay off of that leg for another few days. No stairs. He knows he’s welcome to stay as long as he likes.”

  Greg remained silent and she wondered what he was thinking. Did
he know he was welcome to stay? She’d wanted him out. Just yesterday she’d thought it best for everyone for him to find another place to recuperate, but somewhere in the last two hours she’d changed her mind. This might be the only time she got with him.

  “Well, is there anything we can get for you? Clothes? Your laptop?” Ronny directed the question at Greg and she turned to look at him.

  Greg cut her a quick glance and she recognized the emotion there. She’d felt it often enough as a teen. Insecurity. What she couldn’t figure out was where the take charge man she knew had gone.

  Her mind raced for words that would comfort him, lighten the mood again. “You know I’ll help you in any way I can, but I think it’d be better if your brothers dug through your underwear drawer instead of me.”

  His brother’s laughed and he cracked a smile.

  “Maybe a few days’ worth of clothes,” he said to Ronny. “And my computer would be great.”

  “Not a problem,” Thomas said, ever the take charge brother. In the pecking order, he was clearly used to being at the top.

  “We, ugh, I seem to have lost my cell during the accident.” He smoothed his hands down his thighs.

  “We’ll take care of it. Anything else?”

  “His shampoo,” Gretchen chimed in while she perused the latest issue of DIY magazine. “Unless he wants to smell like apples for the rest of the week.”

  That made the men snicker. “I thought it smelled like an orchard in here,” Ronny teased.

  “I was hoping it was apple pie,” Thomas quipped. “I was looking forward to a slice.”

  “Hey, I’m the injured one. I should be the one getting pie.”

  Gretchen sighed good naturedly and shook her head. Would this easy going camaraderie ever get old? Would she ever tire of having a house full of people, keeping her company, teasing her? She truly hoped not.

  “Sorry, gentlemen. It’s spaghetti and meatballs with chocolate cake for dessert.” She flipped the page and studied a blurb about replacing her hot water heater with a more efficient model.

  Around her, the room had gone quiet and she looked up slowly, glancing first at Ronny, then Thomas and finally Greg.