“Ten minutes ‘til show time, folks. Time to head outside,” Tate called.
Following him, we went outside where people crowded around the big screen. Tate turned up the television with the remote, pulled Kiki down onto his lap, and sent me an excited smirk. “It’s on, mate!”
The swing of headlights came from across the street just as the announcers came on inside the New York Athletic Club. A well-dressed sports anchor began the show. “Welcome to the live coverage of the Heisman finalists where five players will be chosen to represent the best of the best in college football. In one week, one of those five will hold the golden trophy . . .”
“Where you going?” Tate called as I stood to walk to the edge of the yard. “You’re gonna miss it!”
I waved him off, checking to see if I saw the Camry.
It was her. She’d gotten out of her car, and I watched her slim figure open her trunk to pull out her overnight bag. She wrestled with it, finally freeing it, and then pulled it to the sidewalk that led to her steps. She glanced up and our gazed locked.
My heart jumped.
My hands shook.
My body hummed at the thought of seeing her again.
I pushed the gate open that led to the front of the house and walked over to her.
Sunny
WE FINALLY ARRIVED IN ATLANTA.
I dropped an exhausted Mimi off at her apartment. After carrying in her things and walking through her place to make sure all was well, I gave her a hug and thanked her for being with me for the trip.
She cupped my face with wrinkled hands and kissed me on the forehead. “It meant everything to me. Being with you. Seeing your mama’s grave. You handled yourself like a lady, hon. I’m proud of you.”
I nodded, my throat clogged, recalling the visit.
Leaving Mimi at a hotel, I’d headed up the curvy road to his house, my head in jumbles, not knowing what to expect.
What I got when I walked in the door was a host of memories—good and bad.
Walks in the woods. Happy times around the piano. Family dinners.
Then my mom left us and everything changed.
The house reeked of loneliness, and I wasn’t surprised. After my mom, he’d never even glanced at another woman.
He lay reclined on a hospital bed, sleeping from his medication, his face and body shrunken. I knelt down next to him and waited for him to wake.
His eyes opened at two in the morning. With a slight turn of his head, his gaze found mine.
At once, I was glad I came.
Because no matter his demons and the darkness they’d caused, he was my father.
I hadn’t known how it would feel to look at him again.
But I had no hate for him. How could I? That emotion was too destructive. Too ugly.
And I wouldn’t allow it to be part of who I was.
I was saying goodbye and I was going to mean it.
He wasn’t able to speak. Instead he pulled his thin hand out from the covers and showed me a crumpled postcard. His eyes were tremulous and watery, pleading with me.
Feeling confused, I took it, flipping it over to read. Scrawled in my sloppy nine-year-old handwriting was a card I’d dropped in the mail to him from summer camp, a sappy little message from a daughter that told her daddy how much she missed him.
So long ago when we’d been a real family.
And he’d kept it.
My stomach clenched.
Stunned. That’s how I felt.
“I forgive you,” I said, my heart aching.
For him. For me.
For a family that had cracked right down the middle.
Relief flooded his face as if a burden had been lifted. He closed his eyes and wept.
The rest was a blur. He’d passed a few hours later. I sat with him alongside my cousin who’d been caring for him and a hospice nurse.
Mimi’s voice brought me back.
“You going to talk to Max, right?” she asked as I made my way out the door. “He loves you, ya know. I see it. Only one man ever looked at me the way he does you and that was my husband.”
“Of course. Now get some rest.” I waved goodbye, got in my car, and drove home.
And now there he was—coming across the street, looking ridiculously gorgeous in jeans and a black T-shirt. His hair flowed around his shoulders. My Viking.
It may have only been a few days apart from him, but it felt like a lifetime.
I let go of my luggage, sucked in a deep breath, and prepared myself.
What was going to happen to us?
“Sunny,” he called, his eyes full of questions as they roamed my face. He came to a halt in front of me. “I’m so damn glad you’re back where you belong.”
I nodded, feeling anxious and trying to shake it off. We had so much to talk about. “I just got in. It was a long trip.”
“But you’re here now.”
“Yes.”
A loud cheer came from his house, and I looked over his shoulder, taking in the line of cars and the glow from the lights in his backyard.
I started. Oh.
I looked back at him. “Max! The announcement . . . I’d almost forgotten. Are you a finalist?”
He shrugged broad shoulders. “I don’t know.”
My mouth parted. “You don’t know? Why not?”
His gaze zeroed in on mine. “Because I wanted to see you. Everything else can wait—even the Heisman.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“I’ve thought about us a lot . . .” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I guess we should talk.”
“Yeah.”
“I found your pregnancy test. I—I guess that’s what you wanted to tell me. Right?”
My eyes widened. What? How had he—
“I found it when you asked me to make sure you’d locked up. The only thing missing is the test strip.”
Oh. I nibbled at my bottom lip, picturing his reaction. “I packed it with my stuff when I was getting ready to leave. I took the test and then Mimi showed up to tell me about my dad. Things got nuts.”
He reached out a tentative hand and caressed my cheek, but let it fall as if he didn’t know quite what to do with me. “It’s not your fault. You were on the pill, but we were going at it like crazy.”
I sent him a small smile, recalling several of those moments. “I’m not pregnant. If I had known you’d find the package, I would have told you sooner, but I was waiting until we were together so we could discuss things.”
A myriad of emotions flitted across his face, but I couldn’t pin them down. “It would have been okay if you were,” he said softly. “We can handle anything. You and me.”
I glanced up. “You’re not upset at the close call? Even after Bianca . . .”
“You are not her. You’re trustworthy and beautiful and the person I want to be with.”
My stomach fluttered. God. I needed to hear these words. I needed him.
He continued. “I freaked, sure, but I was never angry. I was worried about you, but I didn’t want to bring it up with everything else you had going on.” His hand lifted again, this time more confident as his fingers glided into my hair and tugged me closer to him. “Let’s put the baby scare aside. I’m sorry I roped you into being my fake fiancée—no wait—I can’t say that because I don’t know if things would have turned out like this.”
“Like how?”
“I love you, Sunny.”
Such simple words. Words I needed.
My insecurities slipped away and elation flew over me. I put my hands on his shoulders. “Say that again.”
His blue-green gaze searched mine. “I love you. I have for a long time. I was scared it would screw up my game, but life is crystal clear now. It’s just taken me a while to wake the hell up.” His voice was fierce, almost gruff in the delivery. He swallowed once and then twice, the lines of his throat moving. “Since the night I pulled you out of that car and brought life back to you, you gave life to me
.” He looked at me certainty. “You’re mine. You always will be.”
“It’s about time you told me, Quarterback,” I said, my voice thick. “I love you so much. You’re everything to me. You were meant to be mine since the night you saved—”
His lips stopped my words.
We kissed in the street, our arms tight around each other.
I was never letting him go.
Another cheer, louder this time, came from across the street, and I glanced over his shoulder.
Tate appeared on the edge of the their property, the streetlight illuminating the little smile he wore. He yelled out. “Hey, Sunny! Glad you’re back! Sorry about your dad.”
“Thanks,” I said softly.
He looked at Max. “Dude. I know you’re in the middle of making out, but they called your fucking name! You’re one of the finalists! We’re going to New York! You’re fucking in.” He whooped. “There’s people waiting to congratulate you, mate. Just, um, whenever you two get done with all the mushy shit.”
I laughed as he walked away.
“You should go back over there,” I said. “They’re all waiting. I need to freshen up and unpack anyway.”
He laced our fingers together. “I’m not going anywhere without you. In fact, I have a surprise for you.”
He tugged me toward his house, and I followed my heart skipping.
Had I ever been this happy? Ever? No.
We popped into the party through the back gate and the entire place erupted in cheers. Max garnered backslaps and congratulatory man hugs. His dad embraced him. Isabella and Ash ran up to me and asked about my trip. He kept me firmly by his side the entire time, refusing to let my hand go. I didn’t mind.
Ten minutes later, much to my surprise, he announced we were leaving. Most begged him to stay, except for Tate and Isabella who seemed to be in on the surprise.
“Where are we going?” I asked as he led me to his car, which had brand new tires on it. I didn’t ask about Felix. He’d told me most of what had happened and no way did I want to bring him up when this was our moment.
“You’ll see,” he said as he tucked me in the passenger side, and once again I was reminded of that first day when he’d given me a ride to class. I grabbed his hand, tugged him to me and kissed him hard. My hands squeezed his face and poured everything I had bottled up for the past few weeks. Our mouths clung. Hot and fast.
He growled under his breath. “You keep this up and we won’t be going anywhere.”
He drove out of the parking spot, and a few minutes later we pulled up to the Leland football stadium.
I quirked an eyebrow as he parked. “You know it’s closed, right?”
“Cookie, please. I know people. This is my turf, and if I want it opened, they’re gonna open it. See, the lights are even on.”
We got out and walked into a brightly lit stadium. He led me to the entryway to the stands and over to his Dad’s season seats. The very same place where I’d watched his games.
“You just can’t get enough of this place, can you?” I teased.
He just shrugged. “Will you sit down?”
I did.
He knelt down in front of me—and my heart flew away.
I couldn’t breathe. “Max?” Only it came out as a wheeze.
He gazed at me with tremulous eyes, his face as serious as I’d ever seen it.
“I asked you to marry me here, and it nearly messed everything up. I used a fake ring that my best friend picked out.”
I swallowed.
He eased the engagement ring he’d given me off my finger, slipping it in his pocket.
He pulled a small black box from his other pocket. “But this . . . this is a ring that I picked out yesterday. I searched every jewelry store until I found the perfect one. The idea that you might be pregnant had nothing to do with me buying it. Maybe that was another reason I didn’t ask you about that test strip. I wanted this moment to be about us—nothing else.” He paused. Our eyes locked. “I love you, Sunny Blaine, and I want you to marry me. For real.” He opened the box, revealing a heart-shaped diamond ring.
I gasped. It was huge. It was beautiful. It was mine.
With sure hands, he slid it on my finger and looked up at me. “For the rest of my life, I want you. Forever.”
The butterflies in my stomach went crazy. I nodded. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He pulled me to my feet and kissed me under the lights of a quiet stadium.
There was no Jumbotron. No cheering fans. Just us.
It was everything.
He was everything.
We were everything.
Two Years Later . . .
MAX JUMPED IN OUR KING-SIZED bed like it was a trampoline and stuck his cold feet against my naked back. I yelped, smacked him on the arm, and wiggled away from him. “Stop it, Quarterback! I haven’t had coffee yet.”
“I haven’t had you yet,” he growled and turned me over to my back, tickling my ribs as he rubbed scruff down my chest, kissing and nuzzling my stomach.
I laughed at his antics, which turned passionate as he went lower, his mouth finding the curve of my knee, the sensitive area on my hipbone. He ran his fingers around my back, idly tracing the lines of one of my scars. He paid special attention to them.
“I’ve never been this happy,” he murmured against my neck.
Deep contentment coursed through me. “I know. Me too.”
I thought back over the past two years. He’d won the Heisman and a National Championship. Then, we’d gone to New York for the draft where he’d been the number one pick for the New York Giants. I took a second to gaze out of our high-rise window overlooking the Manhattan skyline. With his signing bonus and a monetary gift from his dad, we were living in an upscale area with tree-lined streets and adorable coffee places.
After graduation, we’d gotten married in Atlanta. It had been a relatively small affair with our closest friends and family. Isabella had been my bridesmaid, and I’d worn the fishtale dress I’d tried on.
Now, I worked part-time at a dress shop that made up-cycled clothing. One day I wanted my own boutique, but for now, I was enjoying being with Max.
Life was perfect.
As far as Felix went, he hadn’t been picked up in the draft.
Oh, how Max had loved that.
When it came down to it, Felix didn’t have the talent. We’d heard he was a used car salesman in Florida. After much discussion, Max and I had mutually decided to put him behind us and let the past go.
We didn’t spend time thinking about him.
We had too many good and real things to focus on.
He kissed me again. “You’ve got that dreamy look on your face. Whatcha thinking about?”
“You.”
He grinned. “I am pretty damn dreamy.”
I poked him in the ribs and he collapsed against me, his naked body gliding against mine. The air thickened around us, heat building. It never took much for us to be hot for each other.
He touched me, his hand coasting down between my legs and dipping inside. He kissed me, soft and then hard, his tongue sucking on mine.
My need ramped up. I cupped his ass, pulling him in closer, wet and ready. “Hurry,” I murmured.
Lifting my leg over his shoulder, he said my name with reverence and slid inside.
I arched, my body accepting all of him.
“I love you so much,” he ground out as he made me his.
I kissed him.
Our lives were just beginning.
Max . . . us . . . Fate had divined our love.
Since the night we’d met on that shore, an invisible thread connected us.
I didn’t understand the hows and whys of our meeting, but life isn’t nearly as complicated as we make it.
Sometimes there really is a bigger plan.
Sometimes there really is that one person.
Sometimes true love finds you no matter what.
The End
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Dirty English, a Wall Street Journal Bestseller
PROLOGUE
A stabbing pain in my temple.
Fat and swollen lips.
A throbbing tenderness between my thighs.
Why did I feel like I was dying?
Muddled images flashed in my head, but nothing connected or made sense, just a big black hole of nothingness. Thanks, vodka.
The ache seemed to spread across my face. I groaned. Had something hit me?
Nausea curled as I got my bearings in the dark. Bit by bit, I figured out I was sprawled cross-wise on a bed that wasn’t mine.
A small hotel room came into focus.
Careful to move my head slowly, I gazed around, taking in the battered nightstand and a rickety desk that had seen better days. In the corner of the room lay the beaded clutch purse I’d borrowed from my best friend Shelley for prom. Okay. But where was she?
My last memory was dancing in the gym. Maybe on top of a table?
My eyes went around the room.
Threadbare navy curtains.
A bed that reeked of stale cigarettes and body odor.
A bottle of Grey Goose.
My stomach lurched at the memory of that bitter taste sliding down my throat, and I swallowed to keep the bile down.
Was this a hangover?
I didn’t know. I had nothing to compare it to.
Snippets of the night came in vivid clips.
Dinner with my boyfriend, Colby, and my friends Shelley and Blake at an Italian restaurant in downtown Petal, North Carolina. Lots of giggling. Colby sneaking in his flask so we could spike our drinks. Dancing under twinkling lights at the prom in the Oakmont Prep gymnasium. Getting in Colby’s Porsche to head to the lake for an after-hours party.
No memories of the lake came to me.
Colby, though, I remembered him urging me to drink, pushing the bottle at my mouth on the way to prom and then later as we drove to the lake. Don’t be a pussy, Elizabeth. Drink it. Let’s rule the world, babe.
Rule the world was his thing. He was invincible, and I guess since his father was a Senator of North Carolina, he believed it. Being part of his inner circle, especially being his new girlfriend, made me feel like I was freaking royalty.
Fake Fiancée Page 20
