I owe you an explanation, Rach. Please call.
Just do it, I thought. Just bite the bullet, make the call. I hit the button and waited. As soon as it began to ring, he answered.
“Rachel,” he said, relief in his voice, “Are you okay?”
“No,” I said truthfully.
“Please come over so we can discuss this. I’d come to you, but Sadie’s asleep,” he said.
The picture in my mind of Sadie curled on her side, Mooshie clutched in her arm, her star-shaped nightlight glowing softly, warmed me. I missed her. Missed them both.
“Okay,” I said softly.
I only cleaned up a little, brushed my teeth and hair. I wasn’t changing out of my leggings and baggy t-shirt for this. There was no pair of skinny jeans or sexy skirt that would work as armor for a life-altering discussion so I might as well be comfy. I didn’t try to hide my dark circles, the lines of worry on my face. Let him see, I thought, let him see how miserable I’ve been.
When I got there, I dodged the hug he wanted to give me for a greeting. I sat carefully on the opposite end of the couch from where he usually sat. I tried not to think of the times we’d all three snuggled there, watching something and sharing popcorn. It made my chest hurt and my eyes burn just being there. I placed my hands on my knees and stared at them, unwilling to look up.
“I know you heard something on a voicemail the other day. That was Jenna, the woman who gave birth to Sadie and left her with me as a newborn. At the time, she volunteered to sign away her rights, and I made sure it was in the papers that she would not try to contact Sadie until she was eighteen. She showed up here last week and Sadie answered the door.”
“Oh no,” I said, wishing I could wrap the little girl in a protective hug right then.
“Yeah, and I got her to go out on the porch with me and left Sadie watching Frozen 2.”
“It was why you were on the porch when I came over.”
“She had just left. You barely missed her. God, I was so furious when she came here. It sounds dumb but it felt like she violated my home and my daughter by coming here and trying to meet Sadie. She stood there and cried about how she was young and confused and regretted giving the baby to me. She begged me to just tell her about Sadie. I told her to leave and I’d meet her to talk the next day, away from Sadie.”
“And that’s the day you butt dialed me and sent me that awful recording,” I said.
“Yes. And yes, I acted like a complete ass. While I’m not sorry about how I spoke to her—I was protecting my family and I’d do that and more again—I’m sorry you had to see that side of me. The side that wanted her to shut the hell up and go away. It turned out she came here for a handout. She’d been tracking me down since she figured out my family was wealthy.”
“She didn’t really want to see Sadie?” I asked, a sick feeling in my gut.
“No, she didn’t care about her at all. She just wanted money. So I took Sadie—I panicked and wanted her the hell out of town where Jenna couldn’t get near her and make trouble. We went to New York, where I’m from, and I met with my lawyers.”
“What did they say? Is she going to get visitation or something?”
“No, she doesn’t want that. The original paper she signed was iron-clad. All she can really do is slander me or upset Sadie. So against my better judgment—truth is I just wanted to tell her to go to hell—I wrote her a check as long as she signed an agreement that it was a one-time payment and she would not come back to extort me again or try to contact my daughter or myself or slander me in any way under penalty of a lawsuit. But I don’t want to drag her through court. I want her to go live her life somewhere far away from us and never bother us again.”
“Is that why you moved here? Someplace so small and out of the way?”
“Partly, and partly because I want Sadie to have a happy, wholesome place to grow up, where she can run and play and picnic.”
“She does love a picnic,” I said.
“I have a great deal of money, some of which I’ve set aside for Sadie’s future. I had a successful career as a broker and also had a trust fund from my parents. I don’t live a flashy life here, but the money isn’t a secret. It’s just not something I advertise is all. And I absolutely did not take the baby away from Jenna.”
“I never thought you did. But I’m sorry I doubted you. The way you ran off with no explanation, the secrets and the way you dismissed me was really hurtful.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, and he took my hand. “You had every right to doubt me and question my intentions toward you after the way I acted. But I never want to be away from you again. I’m in love with you, Rachel. I never want to hurt you. You mean so much to me, to both of us.”
I blinked back tears, almost unable to believe it was true, that Max really loved me and was saying so right out loud. I swallowed hard and decided to be brave. I took the hand that held mine and pressed it to my belly.
“You mean so much to both of us, too,” I whispered.
“What?” he said, his eyes meeting mine with dawning understanding.
“I mean that I love you, and that you mean everything to me and to our baby.”
“You’re pregnant?” he asked incredulously, his face transforming, so much joy and love beaming from him.
“I am. It was a total surprise. While you were in New York, I found out. I didn’t want to call you and tell you over the phone. Plus you’d run off the way you had and I wasn’t sure how you felt about me.”
“You will never have to wonder how I feel about you. About you and our baby. I love you, Rachel. I love you so much.”
Max touched my cheek so tenderly and lowered his lips to mine and kissed me.
Epilogue
One Year Later
“Rachel?” I heard Max’s soft whisper against my cheek.
“Ugh. If Liam’s awake again, please go feed him, okay?” I mumbled, throwing my arm over my eyes, sleepy.
“That’s not why I’m waking you up, my bride.”
His voice was full of wicked promise and I felt a smile curve my lips before I even opened my eyes. He kissed my neck, and I felt my body warm and tingle at the touch. I rolled over in our bed to face him. His big hands found my breasts and fondled them, making me squirm deliciously. His mouth rocked over mine and I parted my lips, sucked his tongue into my mouth. In seconds, he’d pulled my nightgown over my head and his hands skated over my bare skin, over my belly and down between my legs.
“Mmmm,” he said appreciatively as his fingers stroked between my legs, finding me wet for him already.
“Yes,” I whispered, “take me one more time before we’re husband and wife.”
“You liked living in sin with me, you naughty girl,” he teased. I giggled.
“Every second of it,” I admitted, wriggling against the pleasing stroke and press of his long fingers on my sex.
“Then allow me to make sure we go out with a bang.”
“I do like a good bang,” I laughed.
Max slid down my body and disappeared beneath the sheets. He worked my clit with his hot mouth as his fingers traced the sensitive folds of my core. He plunged a finger in me, curled it as the pressure built inside of me. I bucked and jerked as he lapped at my clit and I rode his fingers to a shuddering orgasm. While I was still shuddering from the powerful climax, he loomed over me, thrust his cock into my slick, aching sex and my head went back with a moan. It seemed impossible that sex with Max could get better and better, but it was true. In no time I was sucking his neck the way he liked, making him lose his rhythm and thrust into me wildly, pumping his cock into me, filling me so that I felt myself climb to the heights of pleasure again so swiftly it was dizzying. When he grabbed my thigh and gave me a deep, rocking thrust, I saw stars, crying out as I felt him empty into me with his powerful orgasm. I was panting, my arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed my lips.
“That was just a warm-up for the wedding night,” he said wickedly.
<
br /> “I can’t wait.”
A few hours later, I pinned the flower wreath on Sadie’s hair and gave her the basket of petals to sprinkle down the white fabric runner we used as an aisle. We were marrying in our backyard, the forest and mountain a more beautiful backdrop than any decorations could be. I smoothed the skirt of my simple, gorgeous gown—Laura and I had gone to Savannah to pick it out. It was elegant, a lovely shade of soft cream chiffon with an empire waist, a narrow belt of delicate crystals twined with silver thread above the flowing column of a Grecian skirt. Laura hugged me. “You look gorgeous. Now go marry that hot lumberjack.”
“I plan to,” I said with a grin.
The music began and I followed Sadie down the aisle and took Max’s hand. My mom held our precious baby Liam in the front row of seats, his head drooping against her shoulder in sleep, undisturbed by the music. I kissed Sadie and handed her my bouquet. We said our vows and kissed. I couldn’t imagine being happier than I was. I was Max’s wife at last. My adoption of Sadie would be finalized in the coming week and she’d be my own daughter on paper as she’d always been in my heart. She was a loving big sister to Liam, whose wide dark eyes followed her wherever she went.
We rode to the diner, my diner, for the reception. We had a cake and three kinds of pie, and Trixie had done the flowers that lined the counter and bloomed beautifully in a small vase at each booth and table. Max had bought the diner outright for me. He called it an early wedding gift back when I was pregnant with Liam, saying he didn’t want me worrying about a mortgage. I had been right that he took charge, took care of me, of all of us. It was beautiful and safe, and more than I’d ever dreamed of having in the days when I was scrimping and saving for a down payment.
We laughed and danced and ate way too much. Sadie had insisted we serve grilled cheese for part of the dinner, so we feasted on her specialty before cutting the cake. When Sadie took a little bit of frosting on the tip of her finger and gave it to Liam to taste, he kicked his chubby feet and squealed.
“I think we may have another baker on our hands. You may have some competition in the kitchen soon,” Max told me.
I beamed up at him, “That suits me just fine. Especially since we’ve made a climber out of Sadie and she’ll probably want to start chopping down trees with you soon.”
“Hey, I’ve loosened up a lot but I’m not ready to let our seven-year-old loose with a hatchet just yet. Overprotective habits die hard,” he teased.
“That’s probably for the best,” I said.
“This is all for the best, my love. Forever,” he said, and my handsome husband bent to kiss me softly on the lips.
The End
My Fake Husband (Sample)
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1
Trixie
“He’s a bum. I’ve told you a hundred times. You have to get out from under this guy,” Kiera said.
“Believe me, I’d like to. I just can’t afford it right now. He never listens to me,” I lamented.
“Are you eating? What are you eating? I can hear you.”
“Nothing,” I said, trying to swallow too-big pieces of BBQ chips.
“It’s crunchy. It’s chips isn’t it? God, I miss chips.”
“Sis, give up the Keto. I’m telling you, pork rinds are bad news. They are not better for you than these sweet ass barbecue chips I have here. Totally wholesome. Made from potatoes, not pig fat.”
“Don’t disrespect pig fat. Bacon is excellent,” she protested.
“Yes, it is, but it’s not everything,” I told her.
“I miss potatoes so much. Sometimes I lay awake and think about how much I’d like to have, like, a real burger with a bun and some fries. Not just a big slab of meat with more meat on the side.”
“You’re allowed to have vegetables,” I said.
“I know, but vegetables suck. All the good ones are potatoes.”
“That’s it. For your birthday I’m getting you a five-pound bag of Idahos.”
“You bitch. I’d probably eat one raw,” she said. I laughed.
“What am I going to do about this pipe? I’ve looked it up on YouTube and tried to fix it myself. Six different ways. Nothing works. It’s been leaking for months and that rat bastard Jimmy won’t call me back.”
“He knows you want him to live up to his lease agreement and have the plumbing fixed before you drown in your own flower shop. So of course he’s not answering you.”
“You have a point,” I sighed.
“Tell me again why you can’t just buy the building?”
“Um, I don’t have a trust fund. It will cost thousands of dollars to fix the plumbing, plus the cost of the building and the taxes on it. I’m doing fine with the shop, and I make my house payments on time, but I just got my industrial cooler paid off last year. I don’t have enough collateral for the bank to take a chance on me. I’m a small business owner in a small town. And I’m a woman. Unmarried,” I smirked to myself.
“So if you were an unmarried man with a business they’d be like, look how dedicated he is to his work, he’s going to be successful, let’s give him the loan? Once he’s established, he’ll start a family. But with you it’s like, she’s wasting those ovaries working all the time, and she’s not getting any younger. I know.”
“Yeah. And my ovaries are over here, creaking with age, mumbling about how I’m too busy to even go out with anyone.”
“You could always deliver flowers to the fire station by mistake,” Kiera teased.
“That’s a stupid mistake. The fire department is all men. Who sends flowers to a guy? I mean, not in a sexist way, but we are in rural North Carolina. It’s not like traditional masculinity isn’t loud and proud.”
“You’re missing the point—stay with me here. You can be like, ‘oh, I must’ve written the address down wrong, silly me! Why, Damon, I’d forgotten you worked here. How have you been?’”
“You’re doing a stupid high-pitched voice. I do not sound like that,” I said.
“You so do. Besides, he’s still single, right?”
‘Yeah. I can’t figure out why. I mean, look at him. Tall, great body, gorgeous smile—he’s a fireman, and he coaches little league. His resume says boyfriend material, but that grin says let’s do it in the truck right now.”
“So that’s your kink? Doing it in his truck? Honey, he was a hound dog in high school, but I think he probably has better tricks than pickup truck sex by now. Why won’t you just ask him out?”
“Kiera, I realize you’re married and don’t remember having to date. In fact, you never had to date as an adult with a job and responsibilities and the horror of having to look him in the eye every time you see him in town the rest of your life if he says no and that he thinks of me as a friend or more likely that he doesn’t think of me at all,” I blurted out.
“Well, that’s a lot. Listen to me, Tig,” I smiled when she used my childhood nickname. “I know he’s good-looking, and he’s a good guy. But he’s no better than you.”
“I never wanted to be another one in a long list of—conquests?” I asked. “Is that what they’re called?”
“Fuck buddies,” my little sister supplied. “Hook-ups. Whatever. If you ask him out, don’t say conquest, it’s so uptight.”
“I’m not offering to be Damon Vance’s,” I dropped my voice to a whisper even though I was alone, “fuck buddy.”
“Come on! Have some fun. Also, whoever said the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach didn’t know the truth.”
“I’m so afraid of what you’re going to say right now.”
“His dick. That’s the way to his heart. I knew this at nineteen! How do you not know this?”
“If you try to tell me dirty sex things you did to my brother-in-law when you were a teenager, I’m going to puke in the sink. Please stop.
And the only man I’m dealing with right now is Jimmy the landlord.”
“That is absolutely no fun. Damon would be way more fun. You know he would be.”
“Yes, he’d be fun. He’s a fun person and a good guy, but he’s not for me. I want more than a hook up with a hot fireman.”
“If you have the option of a hookup with a hot fireman, take it. I would if I wasn’t, you know, married till death do us part,” she sighed. “I really want some chips.”
“I love you. Goodbye,” I said, hanging up.
How had a call with my sister, who I missed so much since she moved to Savannah, end up being all about Damon Vance? We grew up in the same little town, our moms were friends, and he was always nice, but he was older, and we didn’t know each other, not really. I knew the way his stubble glinted with a flicker of blonde in the auburn when he was overdue for a shave. I knew that he was the damn hottest specimen of man God ever put on this earth. I also knew that he was a playboy.
Women threw themselves at him. I’d seen it happen in a bar, at the diner, once at the public library downtown. They went overboard with the flirting and asking him to help with a button or a bracelet or reaching something off a shelf, and then they touched him as if by accident. He was like woman catnip. I wasn’t about to try to compete with that or become part of that crowd. I sighed out loud and the bell on my door jingled. I turned and nearly choked when I saw the man himself.
As if I’d conjured him up, Damon stood in front of me. Six foot three, broad and strong, exactly the kind of firefighter that they put on calendars for fundraisers. He was in jeans and a T-shirt, nothing fancy, no sexy uniform and hat or anything. But he was plenty hot enough to make me fumble around with my cell phone, which I was still holding in my hand while I had been thinking about him. I knew color rushed to my cheeks. I felt warm and flustered around him.
The Lumberjack's Nanny: A Forbidden Romance (Rockford Falls Romance) Page 18
