Hoax Husband: A Hero Club Novel

by Candice Wright

  “You look beautiful,” a deep voice comments, making me jump out of my skin.

  “Holy fuck,” I gasp with my hand on my chest when I look up and see Asher leaning against the door frame in a tuxedo looking like James Bond’s hotter brother.

  “Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump. And I'm sorry I'm late. I took the tux to the office to get ready, but I needed to make a pit stop somewhere first,” he says apologetically.

  He walks around behind me and I watch him in the mirror as he lifts a necklace over my head and places it around my neck. I gasp when I see it—a black onyx stone with kaleidoscope hues looking like a rainbow inside it.

  “Wow, Asher, it's beautiful,” I manage to get out as he fastens the clasp behind my neck before pressing a soft kiss to the exposed skin of my shoulder blade.

  “There's more,” he warns as I turn to face him just as he drops to one knee in front of me.

  Taking my shaking hand in his, he slides a ring on my finger with a black stone in the center that matches the one at my neck.

  “I know you think we did everything backward, but seeing my ring on your finger makes me think we did everything just right,” he says with that smile he reserves just for me.

  “Asher,” I whisper, his name on my lips so filled with emotion it's impossible to miss.

  “Marry me, Skittle. I know we did it once already, but this time I don’t want to miss a second of you becoming my bride,” he tells me softly, sliding a narrow wedding band on my finger behind the engagement ring. This one is platinum and studded all the way around with a variety of precious stones. It looks like a small rainbow wrapped around my finger and is a big step up from the gumball ring that started this all.

  “Be mine—” he orders, but I cut him off.

  “Yes,” I sob, throwing myself into his arms as he stands, forcing him to go back on one foot.

  “I have so much to talk to you about, things that need to be said, but it will have to wait until after the gala or Graham might sneak in and murder me in my sleep,” he jokes, but I don’t miss the look of apprehension cross his face.

  I chuckle and dry my eyes. Standing tall, I turn and check my face in the mirror. It's a little red from my tears but nothing too bad. Looking back up at him, I take a deep breath and smile wide.

  “I'm ready when you are, handsome.” I feel the butterflies take flight when he lifts my hand and places a kiss over my rings before turning my hand over and kissing my inner wrist.

  “Let's go before I decide to take my chances with Graham’s wrath,” he says gruffly, tugging me out into the sitting area.

  “Do you have everything you need?” he asks.

  Looking around, I grab my little black purse off the island countertop and my wrap from the stool beside it. I let him maneuver me out of the apartment toward the elevator in a daze, my impossibly high purple heels making a clicking sound across the marble corridor.

  As soon as the elevator doors close behind us, he pushes me up against the wall and takes my lips in a searing kiss, leaving my already frazzled brain in need of a serious reboot. He pulls away as the door opens, looking as put together as always, whereas my befuddled brain is struggling just to remember how to do the walking and talking thing.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Sloan. You look very snazzy tonight,” Sam greets us with a big smile from behind his desk.

  I snap out of my Asher daze and smile at Sam in thanks. I’m surprised to see him tonight; he usually works the day shift. We have a new doorman named Thomas, who is much nicer than Russ was, who does the night shift.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight, Sam.” Not that I’m complaining, Sam is my favorite.

  “Ah, I’m only covering Thomas for another hour as his daughter has a ballet recital he didn’t want to miss,” he answers.

  “Oh, how cute.” I remember Thomas mentioning he had a nine-year-old dance-obsessed daughter. “We are going to a gala,” I tell him, making Asher look down at me with amusement as I chat away to his staff. “I'm a little nervous,” I admit.

  Sam shakes his head in that fatherly fashion of his and comes around the desk to talk to us. “Hush now. Mr. Sloan here is going to have to beat people off you with a stick all evening,” he states, making me blush and Asher laugh.

  I lean forward and press a kiss to Sam’s cheek, thanking him. This time, he’s the one who flushes.

  “Thank you, Sam,” Asher says as Sam tips his imaginary hat at us.

  “Have a good evening,” he calls as Asher leads me outside to the limo waiting for us.

  Lifting the hem of my dress, I climb inside and slide across the seat, making space for Asher to climb in beside me.

  “Hey, Davis,” I greet the man in question as he pulls away from the curb.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Sloan, how was your day?” he asks conversationally.

  I turn to look at Asher, who is watching me with such intensity my breath hitches.

  “My day was awesome, thank you for asking,” I answer but my eyes are all for Asher. “The best day ever,” I whisper.

  Twenty-Eight

  Asher

  We are cutting it close timewise, but seeing the look of happiness on Linda's face, I couldn’t care less.

  I was surprised earlier—I never expected her to tell me she loved me, not yet, at least. But instead of turning me off, her words had the opposite effect on me. They made me feel territorial. Even when she chatted away with Sam and Davis, treating them like friends as opposed to employees, I had to fight to keep my reactions in check.

  I want the world to know she belongs to me and it has fuck all to do with this deal with Peterson. That’s why I was late. Selecting rings that best reflected Skittle's personality was important, but knowing everyone would see those rings on her fingers and realize she was mine? Yeah, that made me feel like the luckiest bastard on the planet.

  This woman has quickly become my everything and she doesn’t even know it. What I feel for her is something I've never experienced before, something I thought I was incapable of, and yet here we are.

  Davis pulls up outside the hotel hosting the gala and walks around the car to open the door for us to exit. I climb out first and hold out my hand for Linda as an explosion of cameras go off around us.

  “Thank you, Davis. I'll call you when we’re done here.”

  He nods and smiles at a nervous-looking Linda before walking back around to the driver's side and sliding in.

  Glancing down at Linda, I see her staring up at me, biting on her lower lip, tugging her wrap around her to ward off the chill in the air.

  “You ready?” I ask, ignoring the world around us.

  “As I'll ever be,” she whispers.

  “There you are.” We turn at the sound of Graham's voice and make our way toward him. “Come on, let's go inside. I can't hear myself think out here,” he mutters.

  I agree. With the sound of voices yelling for us to pose for pictures and the shutters of camera lenses clicking away, it's too loud to think, let alone talk. Keeping my hand firmly wrapped around Linda’s, I follow Graham inside through the enormous double doors. Once inside the large foyer, the doors close behind us, making the noise disappear almost instantly, replacing it with the quiet chatter of the other guests arriving.

  “Let's check your wrap and head on upstairs,” I tell Linda, but she shakes her head.

  “I’ll need it to cover my tattoos. I'll stand out like a sore thumb here if I take it off, and I don't want people to judge you for it,” she protests softly.

  “Just be yourself, Skittle. To me, you are perfect as you are and I'm proud to have you on my arm,” I say, meaning every word.

  “He's right,” Graham adds from beside me. “Fuck what these people think. Who are they to judge?” He turns away to scan the crowd, missing the look of surprise on Skittle's face at his defense on her behalf.

  I slip the wrap free from her shoulders and hand it to her.

  “Check the wrap,” I repeat quietl
y, happy when she nods and steps away to the counter just to the left of us to do just that.

  “So, Peterson is a no show tonight,” Graham adds quietly when Linda is out of earshot.

  “What? Why?” I ask, frustrated.

  “I met him earlier today with the photos. He mentioned not being able to attend so he could deal with that unfortunate situation. His words, not mine. However, he has sent his lawyer Gregory in his place, and you know how much I hate that guy.”

  Graham hates everyone besides his girls, so I’m not surprised. However, I can agree with him on this. Gregory is a prick.

  “But if we put on a good show tonight, he will run straight back to Peterson with a full report.” Graham sighs, knowing he will have to bite his tongue when Gregory is around.

  “Talking of a good show, where's Soraya?”

  “Her friends threw her a surprise baby shower,” he answers disgustedly, making me laugh.

  “Baby showers are the norm from what I can gather, and you’ve been to a dozen of these events without her, so why do you have a face like a slapped ass?”

  “Because I wasn’t invited,” he admits just as Linda walks back over.

  “Wasn’t invited to what?” she asks, handing me the coat-check ticket.

  “The reason Soraya isn’t here tonight is that her friends threw her a surprise baby shower, and Graham here wasn’t invited,” I explain, urging her toward the main room with my hand on the small of her back.

  “That sucks. I always feel like the guy is missing out by not being invited to those things, but from what I’ve heard, it's a common occurrence for it just to be females. At least you know it's not your less than sparkling personality that stopped you from getting an invite,” she informs a scowling Graham.

  We enter the main room where tonight's event is taking place and see it's almost filled to capacity with men dressed in tuxes like mine and women hanging off their arms dressed in all their finery.

  “How the other half lives,” Linda mutters from beside me.

  “You are the other half now, Laura, better get used to it. Ah, George, long time no see,” Graham announces before walking over to a portly man with a bad comb-over.

  “He’s lucky to have you,” Linda tells me, watching as Graham says something to George that makes the man frown.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because without you, that man wouldn't have a single friend,” she answers.

  I throw my head back and laugh, drawing the attention of the people around us, which unfortunately includes Dawn.

  “What the fuck?” I spit out as she looks over at me and smiles seductively before scowling at Linda on my arm.

  “Who’s that?” Linda questions, following my gaze.

  “That would be Dawn. My father's ex-wife and the woman that accosted me in the elevator.”

  “Ah, she’s pretty in a blow-up sex doll kind of way,” she teases, making me snort.

  She’s not wrong, especially as Dawn is standing there with her red painted lips open in a shocked expression, likely at seeing me here with a date. Wearing red stilettos and a short sequined red dress that is so tight I doubt she can breathe in it, she manages to make Skittle, in all her tattooed glory, look demure.

  “She’s really working the scarlet woman theme, and judging from the look on her face, I’m pretty sure she’s attempting to make me disappear with the power of her mind. It takes a lot of skill to earn that much hatred from someone I’ve never laid eyes on before. Quick, let's give her something to really piss her off,” Linda suggests a second before she grips the front of my shirt and tugs me down for a kiss.

  As tends to happen when my lips are on hers, I lose all sense of decorum, pulling her hard against my chest, swallowing down her gasp as my tongue slides into her mouth. I don't care who’s here, this woman owns me and if she wants a kiss, then that's what she’ll get.

  “I can’t leave you guys alone for a second,” Graham's amused voice comments, making Linda pull back.

  “Don’t be jealous, asshat. I’m sure Asher still loves you very much,” she teases him.

  “I don't remember you being such a smartass,” he complains.

  “Dude, you didn’t even remember my name. I don't know why this surprises you.”

  “Don’t take it personally. Secretaries are a dime a dozen.” He waves his hand dismissively.

  “And yet this lowly secretary is married to your best friend. Karma sure has a wicked sense of humor.”

  “Remember the rule about no bloodshed in public?” I remind them with an amused grin.

  Linda pouts. “Fine.”

  “Let's find our seats,” I prompt and take Linda’s hand, tugging her over to the circular tables at the far side of the room.

  Each table has a large pink and white floral centerpiece circled by little pink name cards embossed with a name next to the fine china plates and long stem wine glasses.

  Finding my name, I pull out the chair beside it with Dawn’s name and swipe up the little card that I have no doubt she put there, and walk over to the table farthest from ours and swap it for a plus one card. Graham sits on the opposite side of Linda, laughing at my actions, but I don’t miss the look of relief on Linda’s face or the gratitude in her smile.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  I lean over until my lips are against the shell of her ear, smiling when she shivers. “Don’t you know, Skittle? I’d do anything for you.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Linda

  I wash my hands before dabbing at my lipstick where it is a little smeared, thanks to Asher and his insistent lips. I touch up my face, taking in the flush of my cheeks and the sparkle in my eye and smile happily. Happy with the person staring back at me, happy with the person who has made me feel this way.

  It has been an evening filled with new faces and forgettable names, but I played the dutiful wife knowing how important it was to Asher and found that it wasn’t half as bad as some of the events I had been forced to attend growing up. Maybe it’s because I’m older, but mostly I think it’s because of the man who has barely left my side all night.

  I turn to the sound of the door opening and see the sex doll from earlier, Dawn, Asher’s former stepmother. Lovely.

  “Bathrooms are funny places for women. They’re places for ex-wives and fake fiancées to compare notes,” she drawls.

  I don’t answer her, just grab my bag from the countertop and move to make my way around her, but she grabs my bicep to halt my movements.

  “Oh, honey, don’t stand there thinking your shit doesn’t stink. I don’t know what you did to convince him to hire you instead of me, but you should watch your back.”

  I stare at her pretty face that's twisted into something ugly thanks to the sneer that mars it and frown.

  “You must have me confused with someone else,” I tell her honestly, baffled by her words.

  “Cut the crap. I know everything about your little sham of an engagement because Asher asked me first. If I had known there was someone else in the pipeline, I’d have fucked him real good. He’d have forgotten you in a heartbeat with my lips wrapped around his cock,” she crassly informs me. She must see that my confusion is genuine because she starts cackling like the witch she obviously is. “You don’t know? Christ, what line did he give you?”

  I shake my head, my anger growing with each of her words. “Lady, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but if you don't get your fucking hand off me, we are going to have a problem,” I spit at her, trying to remember where I am and who I’m here with.

  It wouldn’t look good on Asher if I knocked someone out in the bathroom, especially given the nature of the benefit.

  “He needed a fake fiancée. Someone to make his image look good for the company he’s trying to purchase. He offered me fifty-thousand dollars to stick with him for the duration of the negotiations, then another fifty to leave quietly. For whatever reason, he chose to use you instead, although
I had no idea you didn’t know what was going on,” she admits, seemingly confused as I feel the world spinning around me.

  I can think of a reason why he wouldn’t go through with it, though. He found out he was married.

  “How long?” I choke out.

  “How long what?” she asks, looking uncomfortable now that she made her play without all the facts.

  “How long did he want you to stay with him?” I grit out, my legs shaking as I wait for the anvil to drop.

  “Three months,” she answers over the din of my heart exploding. I take a deep breath, and when that doesn’t work, I take in another and another, each one more painful than the last as tiny fragments of my broken heart stab me from the inside out.

  I pull away from her without giving her a second thought and head back out toward the ballroom to find Asher. I refuse to believe her words blindly without talking to him first.

  Walking under the pretty flower archway that matches the centerpieces on the tables, I scan the room for him, spotting him and Graham talking over by the rose-covered arbor in the corner with their backs to me. Rubbing my damp hands over the material of my dress, I pull my shoulders back and hold my head up high. This is all going to be a big misunderstanding that we’ll joke about later. No way would my husband let me fall in love with him if it was all a con. He is not that cruel.

  I paste on a fake smile, not wanting to upset Asher and cause a scene when I tell him what happened, but my footsteps falter the closer I get to him.

  “I still can’t believe you pulled this off,” I hear Graham say to Asher with clear respect in his voice.

  “I’m hurt that you ever doubted me, man,” Asher says, slapping him on the back, perhaps a touch harder than necessary.

  “Yeah, what the fuck ever. I’m still trying to figure out what Linda sees in you.”

  Of course, he gets my name right now.

  “I’m awesome, and we both know it. You better have that twenty grand ready, my friend. A deal is a deal.” He laughs as my heart bleeds out less than a foot from him.