“Damn, girl, are you okay? You look like you’re choking, while you’re breathing which is a technical impossibility.”
Samantha flinched. “I-I… you’re right, Jessica.”
Nodding, her friend’s plaits bobbing with the movement, she murmured, “I figured as much. Jamie was…” She sighed. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, hon, and don’t want to speak badly of him…”
When she broke off again, Samantha croaked out, “Go ahead. I’m finding all this kind of hard to process.”
Jessica nodded again. “Well, Jamie had that look about him. You know? Smug prick? Those kinds of guys aren’t that great in the sack. They’re more focused on their own pleasure, and I knew that when I saw you together. He was totally in charge, and while that’s okay sometimes, like I could tell he dominated you in a bad way. Mr. Lewis looks the same, don’t get me wrong. He’s totally Alpha, but I think that’s the difference. He’s Alpha, whereas Jamie was just domineering.”
Because she could understood where her friend was coming from, Samantha whispered, “That makes sense.”
“Yeah. I mean, it sucks that your first time with a guy was with someone like Jamie and not Josh, really. Sex shouldn’t be sufferance.”
“It wasn’t that bad with Jamie!” she defended, then had zero idea why she was defending her husband.
“No? Your walk said differently.”
Her eyes rounded. “My walk?”
“Your walk,” Jessica confirmed. “It was totally repressed. You were walking like you had a stick up your butt, and I don’t mean a good kind of stick. I mean a wooden one. With splinters. And when you were together?” She whistled. “It was even worse. You were so damn uptight. That guy… he didn’t make you happy, sweetie. I’m sorry to say it but I really, I don’t know, I guess I’ve been waiting for you to open up to me about him, your grief? But you don’t. You never have. And I think that’s because of him. He made you so repressed that you’re used to being all contained and shit, but you don’t have to be like that with me.”
“I know,” Samantha choked out. “But some things are hard to talk about. And he’s one of them.”
“Bad sex with a husband who died too young is a topic of conversation that no one likes to broach.”
“Save you,” she grumbled.
“Yeah, but that’s why you love me. Anyway, back on topic, I could tell Josh is different. Why do you think I totally crush on the dude? But still, he’s not your usual kind of guy. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“What’s my usual kind of guy?”
“I get the feeling Jamie was your idea of a bad boy and that’s probably why you fell for him?”
“Maybe.” Samantha let out a deep sigh. “Gosh, that’s so embarrassing.”
Jessica snickered a little. “Only you’d think he was a billionaire bad boy. Read much romance as a kid?”
She glowered at her friend. “Maybe.”
“Thought as much.” Jessica laughed. “Still, that part of your life is over now. I mean, I’m sorry he’s dead. Not just for you and Erin, but his parents too, of course. I just mean… like, for you? You can move on and actually live a better life.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re allowed to have good sex. You’re allowed to go out there now and do what you want. It always surprised me when you told me you dropped out of college to get married to Jamie.”
“I was too impressionable back then.” She sighed. “I wish I hadn’t.”
“Why? Do you want to work?”
“I don’t really know what to do with myself. Being Jamie’s wife was kind of a job in its own way. For his work, I had to socialize and maintain a certain image, you know? Arrange parties and dinner parties. Things like that.”
“No reason you couldn’t go back to college.”
“What’s the point? It’s not like I need the money.”
“No, but someday, Erin’s going to be eighteen, and you’re not going to be a full-time momma anymore. You’ll need to do something with yourself.”
Though she was right, Samantha winced. “I just feel badly, that’s all.”
“Why?”
“I don’t need the money. I’d be taking a job away from someone who does need it.”
Jessica pondered that a second. “Your sense of empathy is far too high. You need to do what you need, not what other people might need.”
“I guess. I still feel bad though.”
Jessica rolled her eyes as she polished the silver taps and knobs on the coffee machine. “Okay, so, tell me then. How do you feel about this situation with Josh?”
“What situation?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, chick. I know you too well.”
“I’m not playing dumb,” she argued. “Seriously, there’s no situation. We had sex.” She cleared her throat. “Very, very good sex, but there’s no situation. It’s not like we’re dating or anything.”
“I’m just surprised.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d have thought you’d need some kind of promise to get down and dirty with a guy.”
“I’m not a teenager anymore,” she grunted, rolling her eyes at the thought. “Nor do I belong in a Jane Austen novel. I wanted him at that moment, and he wanted me. That was enough.”
“Don’t you want more?”
Samantha pursed her lips. “Sure, I do.”
“Relationship more or sex more?”
“Sex more. I don’t want a relationship. Not yet.” Maybe not ever.
Jessica’s eyes widened. “You really mean that.”
“I do. I’m not in the habit of lying to you, Jessica.” Evading and avoiding, yes. But lying? No.
“Doesn’t he want more?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been in touch with him since it happened.”
For a second, she felt sure Jessica’s wide mouth would comfortably fit an XXL gobstopper it was so wide. “You haven’t texted him or called him or anything?”
“No, why would I? I haven’t needed him for anything.”
“Aside from another booty call, that is.”
Samantha couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Well, that, I guess. But I just meant… I haven’t needed anything from him, and I know he’s busy, so why disturb him? He’s already gone above and beyond for me. I never imagined he’d get Frank and Janice off my back so quickly. It makes the fake engagement thing seem so unnecessary now considering how quickly he manipulated them and got them off my back.”
“True. You never told me how that went down.”
“It was awkward as hell, but it’s done. Josh had papers drawn up that say they’ll forever back off. Unless I’m proven to be totally incompetent as a mother, and that’s not going to happen, is it?”
“No way. You’re far too neurotic.”
She snorted. “Thanks. Remind me again why I come here,” she grumbled as she plunked her elbows on the counter and leaned hard on it.
“Because you love my coffee and my frank talk.”
It was hard not to wrinkle her nose at that, because the last thing she did was love Jessica’s almond milk disaster. Still, the other half was true. “You’re right. That’s why,” she murmured, clicking her fingers.
Jessica laughed. “I’m just glad it’s sorted.”
“Yeah. Me too. The relief is dizzying. But after he sent through the papers, I knew it was finally real. Actually happening. Such a good feeling.”
“Wait a minute, he had the papers sent over and you didn’t thank him for them?”
“No,” Samantha admitted with a wince.
“Why not? That’s not like you, Ms. Polite.”
“He didn’t bring them over himself. He sent a courier. It irritated me.”
Jessica studied her a second. “That’s very unlike you.”
“Why is it?” she said on a huff. “I mean, I know the lengths he’s gone to for me, and I also know how busy he is so I guess it’s cheeky to expect him to bring
them to me, but I was…”
“Having a temper tantrum that day?”
“Maybe,” she admitted drily. “I felt like a booty call, I guess. And the way he pulled away after we did it?”
“He didn’t?” Jessica demanded, sounding totally scandalized.
“Yeah, he totally did. Couldn’t pull away from me fast enough. That pissed me off a tad, but it also made me realize that I wasn’t…”
“That you weren’t what?”
She shrugged. “I guess that I didn’t need his validation, I suppose.”
“That’s a strange thing to think about post-coitus.”
“I guess. But it’s just… I felt like I was free to own my reactions, you know?”
For as second, Jessica was quiet then she said softly, “Jamie really did a number on you, didn’t he?”
“I guess,” Samantha said quietly, ducking her gaze to the cookie crumbs on the counter. Wincing at the mess she’d made, she murmured, “Sorry about the trail mix I left on the counter.”
“I’ll forgive you,” Jessica teased, but then her tone turned serious as she murmured, “You’re going to do him again, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have to know! If it was as epic as your starry eyes seem to reveal, then... well, I’ll be mad if you don’t do it again!”
“What? Why? So you can live vicariously through me?” she mocked. “Because you don’t have enough action on that front.”
“Not with billionaire businessmen, I don’t. You need to do this for all the women out there who read those kinds of romances, Sam. You owe your fellow sisters.”
“Or just you? Because you’re the only one I’d be sharing the details with, right?”
Jessica grinned. “Yes. All the details.”
Rolling her eyes, Samantha jabbed the air in front of her. “You’re salacious. You know that, right?”
“And you love me for it.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe.”
Chapter 14
Samantha
Singing, Samantha flipped the pierogis in the butter-soaked skillet. When they were nice and crisp, she danced a little to the tune in her head as she put them on a plate beside a dish of homemade tomato chutney.
The little meat pastries were one of Erin’s favorite snacks and considering she overdosed the entire thing with more vegetables than a vegetarian would be able to stomach, she liked him eating them.
She didn’t work, and she felt pretty useless for it. Like she was letting womankind down, but the truth was, she didn’t have to work. Besides she didn’t have any qualifications, as after her marriage, Jamie had insisted she drop out of community college to be his wife—a full-time job, according to him—and she had enough money to see to her needs because of Erin’s trust fund.
It would be wasteful to get a job when someone else who really needed it could miss out on the position.
She’d always argued that, anyway. To herself. But lately, cooking all these great meals for Erin, and keeping house, it just didn’t feel like enough. That was why she’d started turbocharging everything.
The backyard was now planted with veggies and a herb garden—she couldn’t wait to use her own produce, no matter how minuscule the yield was. She’d even started making her own bread and pasta from scratch…. But it wasn’t enough.
She just hadn’t figured out what enough was.
“Erin! Your snack’s ready!”
Little feet clambered up and pounded down the hall. She laughed as he rushed into the kitchen, braked to a halt at her side, then tugged at her skirt. “Guess what!”
“What?” she asked, cocking a brow at him as she ran a hand through his mop of curls.
“Uncle Josh is here.”
She scowled. “What?”
“He’s here. I saw his big car in the drive.”
Josh was here?
Clearing her throat, she passed Erin the small dish and said, “Go sit at the table and eat your snack.”
He pouted. “Can’t I say hi to Uncle Josh?”
“Of course you can. When I bring him through,” she warned, knowing her newly ebullient son’s need to get his nose into everything—he’d really taken to playgroup and, thank goodness, had come out of his shell.
She was taking it as a very positive sign.
“Now, you get started,” she told him, “I’ll bring him through soon.”
Erin huffed out a breath but grabbed the dish and plunked it on the table before he heaved himself up into his seat. When he started to eat, she watched him a second, grimaced at just how much tomato chutney he managed to get over the table without even trying, then the doorbell rang and her thoughts of getting chutney out of the tablecloth disappeared.
Nerves tumbled through her system for a second, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling when Erin perked up. “Told you.”
“I believed you,” she chided, “now, eat!”
Erin frowned, and managed to look so like his father, she had to hide a wince.
It wasn’t her son’s fault he reminded her of Jamie, and over the years, she knew her husband’s face would fade and her son’s would supersede it—boy, she couldn’t wait for that day.
Sucking in a deep breath as she sought calm, Samantha headed down the hall to the front door. When there was another knock, she stopped hesitating, picked up her pace, and opened the door.
“Josh!” she exclaimed, pretending she didn’t know he’d been the one at the door.
His mouth curved into an odd smile. “Yes.”
Samantha cocked a brow at him. “Are you okay?”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked.
“Do you want to come in?”
“Sure,” he replied. Then, when she didn’t move, he frowned. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”
“I’m just wondering why you’d want to come in, I guess. You couldn’t get away fast enough from me that day…” She pursed her lips at him. “And no, I’m not mad at you about that, just confused.”
He sighed. “Let me in, Samantha.”
She stepped back, leaving the doorway wide open as she let him pass by. Once he was in her hallway, she hid a wince because he overtook it.
As he did most things, she realized. He was one of those guys. The kind that Jessica had discussed earlier. The sort who somehow managed to dominate every scenario, every situation. Overwhelming the space, like he saturated the oxygen around him so it vibrated or something.
It was weird and unnerving.
“What is it?” he demanded when she just stared at him.
“I’m just thinking that’s all.” She started to step away. “Come on, Erin’s in the kitchen. Do you want pierogis? I made extra.”
He blinked. “You made pierogies?”
She nodded. “Old family recipe. They’re good. If I do say so myself.”
“Okay then, sure.” He licked his lips. “But first, I need to ask you something. Without little ears getting in the way.”
“Go for it.”
“I wondered if you’d be willing to attend a party with me tonight.”
She scowled. “What kind of party? And why me? Did your regular date cancel?”
“No. It’s a work affair, but it’s a social event. I have to attend otherwise it would seem impolite.”
“Right. Because you really care about being impolite.”
“Ouch. You really are mad at me, aren’t you? You’re not confused like you were making out a few moments ago.”
She pursed her lips. “My female pride is stung, I suppose. Maybe more than I realized.”
“I knew as much when you didn’t thank me for the court papers I had sent over.”
“I was going to thank you, but I was annoyed you didn’t bring them yourself.” She realized how childish that sounded now after having admitted as much to both Jessica and him in one day. “I know that’s irrational.”
Josh cleared his throat. “Maybe it makes sense. Can I ask y
ou a question?”
“Why not? Go for it.”
“Was I the first guy you’d…? You know, after Jamie?”
Feeling a little nauseated at his need to know, she nodded.
“It makes sense then. You’re just a little sensitive.”
She scowled at him. “Shut up. I am not sensitive.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong at all.” But he was smiling at her, and she wanted to smack the smile off his lips.
Stacking her hands on her hips, she demanded, “Why are you asking me to come to this party tonight? Why is it so last minute?”
“Because I was going to go alone, and then I wanted to see you.”
She stilled at that admission. “Why do you want to see me?”
He blew out a breath and lifted a hand to run his hand through his hair. “I could lie to you, Samantha, I really could. But I won’t. Not just because of Jamie but because you don’t deserve to be bullshitted around by me, and I’m not going to lie, my track record isn’t great.”
She snorted. “Like I don’t know that. I was Jamie’s wife, you know? And I’ve seen you in the society pages.”
When he winced, she grinned. “Anyway, I just… I can’t get you off my mind. That’s why I’m here.”
Stunned by the admission, she gaped at him a second. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said grumpily, and she could see how ill at ease he was having made himself vulnerable to her.
“But why?”
“You were there, weren’t you? What we had… that was incomparable with anything, anyone. It blew my mind… You blew my mind.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and she felt herself flush harder when he lifted a hand and used it to cup her chin. His thumb stroked over her cheek. “And you still blush. How is that even possible?”
She frowned at him, with more than just her brow, but with her eyes too… whatever she’d expected from him, it hadn’t been this. “I’m not ready for… well, anything, Josh. I’m still trying to get over everything that happened.”
“I know. I do. And I’m just trying to say that I want to be here for you. As more than just a fake fiancée.”
She stared at him. “But why? Why do you want to get involved? Do you still feel sorry for me? Is that it?”
Believing Her: An Enemies to Lovers Fake Fiancé Romance Page 11
