Fake Boyfriend

by Miley Maine

  The party lasted for a full three hours, until finally the last guest left.

  I face planted right onto the couch.”So tired. Who knew accepting congratulatory messages and goodwill could be so tiring?” I pulled the pillow over my face. “I sure didn’t.’

  Jackson stretched out on the couch adjacent to me. “When do you want to actually tie the knot?”

  I shifted the pillow off my face. “Do you have a preference?” I asked.

  “No. We can do it here in your living room. We can do it at the courthouse with the Justice of the Peace.”

  A smile flitted across my face at the thought of telling my mother that we were getting married at the courthouse. It would provide hours of amusement.

  “If it’s okay with you, I’d actually like to get married at your grandfather’s cabin. Outside of course, by the lake.” Despite the absolute insanity of our time at the cabin, I had fond memories of that entire trip, with the exception of the kidnapping, and Douglas. But I enjoyed the cabin. And it was special to Jackson, and it was special to me as well -- it was where we’d first said ‘I love you.’

  “I don’t mind that at all. I like any excuse to go up there,” he said.

  “I just realized, you’re not my boyfriend anymore.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I grinned. “You’re my fiance.”

  He laughed, now understanding what I meant. “But not your pretend fiance.”

  “No. never that.” He laughed. “When do you want to get married? What month?”

  “I think next summer. We’ll make it one year to the date when we first met, or as close to it as possible,” I said. “What do you think?”

  “I think that sounds perfect.” He bent down and rubbed his hand over my back. “Do you want to break the new house in, or are you too worn out from all the socializing?”

  I flipped over so I was lying on my back and pulled him down on top of me. “I am never too tired for you.” Especially not when he just gotten back from a deployment. I couldn't imagine turning down time with him, even if I could barely keep my eyes open, and I planned to keep it that way.

  Epilogue

  Jackson

  One year later…

  When Loren told me she wanted to get married at my grandfather’s cabin, I was surprised. I thought she’d want to get married in Atlanta, or even Macon, Georgia. But she said she wanted our wedding to be where it all began, and I couldn’t argue with that. Of course the logistics of getting everyone up to the cabin was no hardship for her and her family, and she’d insisted on flying my family up too.

  She’d only met my parents and siblings two times, so they were more than a little reluctant to allow her to pay for the plane tickets. But then Loren had called my dad, and told him the wedding at the cabin would mean a lot to her. I could tell my dad already liked her, and he was going to have a hard time rejecting her offer.

  But then she explained that her dad was supplying his company plane for the guests, and that it wouldn’t cost anyone a dime. The rest of my family lived in Florida, all within an hour of each other, so they agreed to let the Stevens Manufacturing jet come pick them up.

  From personal experience, I knew they’d enjoy every second of flying on that private airplane instead of being squished into coach, which is how they’d usually be flying.

  Now that they were all here at my grandfather’s cabin, I finally understood what Loren had meant about the atmosphere of a wedding. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was the groom, but I felt like I was at a happy family reunion.

  This was the first time my entire family had been together in Alaska in over a decade. And my parents were even able to mention my sister for a few minutes, which usually didn’t happen.

  And Loren’s family was all there, just as obnoxious as ever, but even Marie was happy for Loren, and was cheerful, despite her own disastrous wedding one year ago.

  Loren wanted an outdoor wedding, which was good because not too many people would fit in my grandfather’s cabin, and as I waited for Loren to come down the aisle, I was glad she’d chosen to go outside.

  I stood at the altar, in front of the sparking lake, with a view of the mountains all around us. To my right, I could actually see the cabin. The white chairs for the guests were lined up to face the clear blue lake.

  The last few months had been a whirlwind. I’d had a rough deployment and gotten shot while I was in South Africa, and I’d been stuck in Cape Town for several weeks to recover. For a day or two, I’d been terrified that I wouldn’t make it, and that I’d never have a wedding, or get to marry Loren.

  In the end, Loren had pulled a few strings via her mother and flown over to check on me in person. I’d never have asked her to do it, but I had been very glad to see her. I’d thought maybe the experience would hit home for her, that her fiance, and soon-to-be-husband was always at a high risk of being shot might make her want to postpone the wedding, but it hadn’t. It had only solidified her loyalty.

  Now the music began to play that signaled that the bride was about to appear. We’d used the same wedding planner that Marie had used. She’d done a good job, with a lot of high maintenance guests, and we wanted to duplicate that experience, minus the batshit crazy groom.

  When Loren’s father walked her down the aisle, I thought my heart would stop. I was a big tough soldier, but Loren had cracked my heart and my soul open, and I was a changed man, for the better. The ceremony passed by with me in a daze. I said the vows I’d written, and I kissed my bride, who beamed at me with her sunny smile the entire time.

  Then it was over, and we were married.

  “Ladies and Gentleman, it is now my pleasure to present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Williams,” the pastor announced.

  His words echoed in my ears as I stared at my beautiful bride.

  “We’re married now,” Loren said. “You’re my husband.”

  We walked to the reception hand in hand, and endured all the jokes, comments, and congratulations that our families and friends had to offer. We ate, we danced, and we cut the cake.

  Six hours later, we boarded the private plane that would take us to our honeymoon location.

  Loren snuggled into me on the couch that was in the center of the plane. “Now you have to tell me where our honeymoon is going to be.”

  Loren had mentioned in passing that she didn't want to go to a beach resort for our honeymoon. So I’d spent some time researching it, and I’d decided on the Amalfi Coast in Greece.

  She hadn’t been to Greece lately, and it was a cultural hotspot. It had a beach, but it also had plenty of architecture and history for her to enjoy.

  Loren had spent her life having important gifts purchased by her parents’ staff members. They were extravagant, and often outrageously expensive, but not always personal. So as her new husband, I had the not-so-easy task of creating gifts that were meaningful. They didn’t have to cost much, but I wanted to show her that I’d put some thought into it.

  I pulled out a folder that I’d created, based on locations that offered prime photography opportunities, and museums that featured photographers, and paintings created from photographs. As I explained it to her, her eyes began to water.

  She waved her hand in front of her face and sniffled. “I can’t believe this. No one’s ever thought about getting me something related to photography. Or even art.”

  “You planned the wedding,” I said. “And it was perfect. So I wanted to make sure the honeymoon was just as good.”

  She jumped up, and threw herself at me in her usual way. I sat with her in my lap as we reached cruising altitude over Alaska.

  I pointed out the window at the snow-peaked mountains, and the vast expanse of green grass. “Can you believe how far we’ve come? One year ago we were just meeting.”

  She kissed me on the cheek and snuggled closer. “And now we’re getting our happy ending.”

  Hope you enjoyed Fake Boyfriend. If you did, then I suggest g
etting Love Undercover, 2nd book in this series. Read an excerpt right here in the following pages!

  Excerpt: Love Undercover

  Kate is about to ruin my career.

  She’s about to destroy everything I’ve worked so hard for.

  I’m a CIA secret agent.

  Disciplined, ruthless, some might even say… heartless.

  My target this time is a major threat to humanity.

  Hundreds of lives are at risk.

  Protecting my undercover identity is crucial.

  But how do I keep it a secret when she comes along?

  Kate works for one of the most dangerous men in the world.

  My target.

  The enemy.

  But I have to remember that she’s not the enemy.

  She’s just an innocent nanny who has no idea who I am.

  She’s got no clue what she’s gotten herself involved in.

  And I have a feeling that she won’t be happy when she finds out.

  If fighting against crime doesn’t eventually kill me…

  Losing my heart to Kate definitely will.

  Owen

  “I will need the financial forecast for the next quarter,” Robert Laurent said to me. He tapped his fingers against my desk. “By tomorrow.”

  Fucker.

  I rubbed my eyes. One year down. How many more to go? I put a neutral expression on my face, which wasn’t my strong suit. “I’ll have them ready today,” I said.

  He tapped his fingers once more before moving away. “I am glad you always prioritize your work, Owen.”

  No shit. I had no personal life here for a reason. I had no friends, no family, and no dating life. I wasn’t going to risk getting involved with a woman here, when I knew I’d be leaving. Hopefully, sooner rather than later. But I couldn’t complain.

  I was the one who’d jumped at the chance to go after this bastard. I was the one who agreed to pose undercover as an accountant. I knew going in I was looking at a lot of dull, repetitive office work. Which was exactly the reason I’d never wanted a desk job.

  My last undercover job? I’d posed as a heroin dealer. That was more my speed, but I majored in forensic accounting, and for fun, got a minor in finance. Which led to me being able to impersonate a corporate accountant, all so I could crunch numbers for a French criminal who’d made his new home in Santiago.

  Restless energy consumed me. I stood and paced back and forth in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. At least the view was good. The skyline was all mountains, a sharp contrast against the shiny line of highrises.

  When I was working undercover as a heroin addict, I had a view of a shitty hovel in Rio, and I’d spent six months wearing grimy clothes and sleeping in a bug-infested bed. At least now I wore a suit every day. Laurent had even handed me a fancy apartment on a silver platter.

  I forced myself back to my computer. I still had several hours’ worth of analysis to do.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Laurent said. “I would like for you to join us tomorrow night for dinner at our villa. My wife made the suggestion.”

  This type of invitation was what I’d been waiting on. If Laurent was anything like the other thugs I’d known, him inviting me to his home meant he trusted me, at least a little. He might not have looked like a thug or sounded like one, but at heart, he was a vile, piece-of-shit thug.

  I sighed. I really had to clean up my language. It had gotten way too rough in Rio, and now I was going to be around his wife and kid.

  “Sounds great,” I responded.

  “I will send a car for you. Be ready at seven p.m.”

  When civilians think about CIA jobs, they imagine excitement and danger. And those things happen for field agents, sometimes a lot. But not all the time.

  Some of the work was dull. Like piecing together all the connections between a crime boss, and his underlings, which was what I was doing right now.

  Over a year ago, the CIA had identified Laurent as a suspect. And not just any old suspect. A suspect who was potentially involved in a terrorist plot that could cause large-scale damage to any city or town.

  I’d been quick to volunteer for the job. And as I worked in Santiago as Laurent’s accountant, I’d gained his acceptance, if not his trust. And in that time, I’d learned that Laurent wasn’t a terrorist, at least not directly. He didn’t believe in any cause. He didn’t really care about hurting anyone or making anyone pay. He didn’t even want revenge. He just wanted to line his wallet. And he was willing to do that in one of the most fucked-up ways imaginable.

  He was planning to sell some chemical weapons to the highest bidder.

  Chemical weapons that would kill thousands of people. All because he wanted even more money than he already had.

  I hated him as much as I’d ever hated anyone, and I bet I’d met some real scum in my work.

  So, in the effort to pin Laurent down for his crimes, I needed some backup, beyond the local assets I’d gotten to know and rely upon. Every now and then, I needed contact with someone who was a part of my real life, and not part of the fake one I’d constructed.

  There was one other CIA agent in Santiago that I knew of, and he was working on a different case. We served as a sort of informal backup system for each other. He knew most of the details in my case, and the nature of his assignment meant he could do background checks and research without worrying about getting murdered for it. I had permission from my supervisor to lean on him when I needed his help, as long as it wasn’t excessive. So far, he hadn’t needed my help, but that could change.

  I hadn’t talked to him in six weeks, so it was about time to check in.

  When I needed to contact him, I always made use of a cell phone I kept in a safe at the bank. I sure couldn’t have a burner phone in my apartment, in case Laurent ever sent someone to snoop through it. And I certainly couldn't carry it around with me, because when I first started working for Laurent, one of his henchmen had searched me every time I walked in the office building.

  That had stopped, but Laurent didn’t really trust anyone, not completely.

  I was meeting the other agent today, at the bus stop for one of those tourist rides. Cliche, right? I didn’t give a fuck at this point. We would wait in line for the tour to Valparaíso, shuffling along with the crowds who were ready for their ten-hour day. I’d even brought a backpack so I’d blend in with all the people messing with their tubes of sunscreen and refillable water bottles.

  I didn’t even know the other agent’s real name. The name he’d given me was Jack. Just Jack, no last name. Of course, Owen Baxley wasn’t my name either. Even my supervisor used Owen right now, just in case someone was listening to our phone conversations.

  I’d met him before, but he’d be blending in too, playing the role of wide-eyed visitor from Liverpool.

  There he was. I slid into the line next to him, right behind an older couple who seemed to have about ten grandchildren tagging along with them.

  “What’s up?” he said.

  “I’m probably going to need some digging soon,” I replied.

  “I’m all ears,” he told me, popping a piece of gum into his mouth.

  “I’m going to the target’s house for dinner tomorrow night,” I said, fiddling with my backpack straps and adjusting my hat. All the people in line were so fidgety. If we stared straight ahead and spoke, we’d stand out. “So I’ll either come back with a list of names to research, or I’ll end up at the bottom of the ocean.”

  He put a pair of cheap sunglasses on. They had little Peruvian flags all over them.“So, if I don’t hear from you in a week, should I assume the worst?” he asked.

  “Yep.” We were joking, but we both knew someone taking me out was a real possibility. It was part of the job when you were undercover. I knew that, and I accepted it.

  Now I just had to get focused, and find out as much as I could tomorrow night at Laurent’s house.

  Kate

  “What do you think about the flamingos?
Are they pretty?” I asked Gabriel as I crouched by his stroller. I felt a little odd speaking so formally to a ten-month-old sometimes, but I knew it was good for him.

  Gabriel pointed at the flamingos. “Buh,” he said.

  “Yes, they’re birds.” I unbuckled the straps and pulled him into my arms, holding him so he could see them clearly. I wasn’t just a nanny to baby Gabriel, he was supposed to learn immersive English from me too. I had no training in teaching English, but his parents had assured me that I was only required to speak normally to him, and he’d pick it up.

  However, they preferred me not to use any slang, which was harder than it sounded.

  I wasn’t sure how much he understood, but he seemed to enjoy our walks through Bicentenario Park. The weather today was a perfect seventy-five degrees.

  “Okay, time for us to go,” I said.

  He waved at the flamingos. “Buh.”

  “Yes, that’s right. Say bye to the birds.” We usually lingered at the park, and sometimes even toured the zoo if he’d had a good nap, but tonight I was supposed to attend a dinner with Mr. Laurent’s clients and some of his employees. He and Mrs. Laurent wanted Gabriel to attend, which meant I’d be there too.

  Behind us, our driver and bodyguard, Mateo, stood a few feet away. I still marveled at having someone whose job was just to drive me and Gabriel around. In the town where I’d grown up, no one had a driver. Most of us were lucky to even own a car. I felt bad asking Mateo to take us all over the city, but he assured me that his first job was watching out for Gabriel, and if the location was safe, then he’d be happy to take us.

  So, I felt a tiny bit guilty, but not enough to stay home. Santiago was a vibrant city, and I wanted to take advantage of going out. Plus, Garbiel seemed to love getting out as much as I did. He often clapped his hands together when we got into the car.