Perfect Husband: A Fake Marriage Romance

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Perfect Husband: A Fake Marriage Romance Page 6

by Leslie Johnson


  “I told you about his granddad’s deteriorating health.”

  “Yeah, I totally get that part, but shit! Three weeks?”

  I’d told Rachel about the whole fake marriage setup, but not about Ernest’s amendment to our deal. That was between the old man and me.

  I just wished I had the same confidence that he had regarding his grandson’s feelings toward me.

  “What are we watching tonight?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Because life is nothing but horror, I decided on The Mist by Stephen King.”

  “Ugh. That movie is so depressing.”

  “Exactly. And the next one is I Am Legend, starring Will Smith.”

  “Also depressing. Why are you doing this to me?”

  Rach smiled grudgingly. “Fine. You can choose the third one.”

  I ended up picking Shaun of the Dead, because we both needed some comedy in our lives.

  While we stuffed our faces with takeout pizza, ice cream, and cookies, and groaned as slippery killer tentacles whipped across Rach’s TV screen, my mind remained troubled.

  My wedding was just three weeks away. I’d always believed I would marry for love, but this arrangement left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  Why had I agreed to it in the first place?

  Well, the promise of a new sunny studio had been one reason. And traveling. And maybe studying for a Master’s. And the promise of a bug-free apartment. I grimaced.

  And of course, there was that annoying other reason called “attraction.” I was wildly attracted to Denton North, no doubt about it. I might even be falling in love with him, which was the root of my unsettled emotions.

  Damn old man Ernest and his psychic ways! How had he known before I did?

  By the time midnight rolled around, Rach was already snoring, so I wrapped her up in an afghan blanket and left her on the couch. Empty ice cream tubs and candy wrappers lay strewn all around.

  I should’ve cleaned up, but before I could stop them, my fingers were dialing Denton’s number.

  “Hey,” he answered, sounding sleepy. “Are you having fun?”

  “I guess so. Rach is out, but I can’t sleep…” Nervous, I played with the hem of my pajama shorts.

  “You want to hear something funny?” I heard what sounded like him rustling around in the bedsheets as his voice tickled my ear.

  “Definitely. Make me laugh, Denton North.”

  “Well, it’s not ‘ha ha’ funny. It’s just that I noticed something while I was alone here.” He sounded a little embarrassed. “I’ve been living here by myself for three years and always enjoyed the quiet and solitude. But now… it feels different. When I came home this evening and you weren’t here, I felt lonely. And the penthouse felt really… empty.”

  I was glad to hear it, but I couldn’t keep the quip from coming out of my mouth. “You could always get a puppy or a kitten.”

  “No, it’s more than that. And it got me thinking. If I feel like this after one week, how the fuck am I going to feel after six months? It’s a pretty scary thought.”

  “Or maybe you’ll get sick of me and count down the days to when I do leave.”

  “That’s not funny, Tiffany,” he growled, and the image flashed into my brain of him planted between my legs, growling before sinking his tongue into my flesh.

  He was right, it wasn’t. But I really wanted to lighten this heavy sensation in my chest, and I wished I was there next to him in bed.

  “I miss having sex with you,” he murmured.

  Oh how romantic. His words shot me back to reality.

  “Or maybe you just miss having sex. Doesn’t matter who the girl is.”

  Denton didn’t find this funny. “Why do you keep doing that?”

  “Doing what?”

  “It’s like you’re trying to push me away and make light of our situation.”

  I paused, taking in several deep breaths, deciding in a rush of emotions that I could let him into my world a little since he was being so free with his. “Or maybe it’s because I’m scared. Ever think of that?”

  “Are you scared of me?”

  I’m scared of falling in love with you. I’m scared you’ll reject me. I’m scared I’ll never feel the same way about another man again, because I haven’t up until now.

  “I… I don’t know how to explain it,” I finally whispered when I realized I couldn’t explain without telling him the truth.

  “Look, even real couples get pre-wedding jitters. It’s understandable.” His voice grew gentle. “Just know that I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

  Real couples. Which we clearly weren’t. So any talk we’d have would be from a purely business position.

  “You know, I’m getting kind of sleepy now. Maybe I’ll join Rach and go to bed.”

  Denton murmured, “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, Tiffany.”

  Which cascaded me right back into fantasyland. This might-be-falling-in-love stuff was a bitch.

  “I can’t wait either.” I ended the call with a cringe, wondering where that sickly sweet tone I’d used had come from.

  We might’ve been a fake couple, but sometimes, we sounded like a genuine one.

  All that did was make me more confused than ever.

  It was around midday when I returned to the penthouse. Denton’s housekeeper had been there and the place was sparkling, which I appreciated after being the one who cleaned up before Mom got home from work every day before I got my own place.

  With a sigh, I fell on the couch and closed my eyes. I decided to sneak in a quick nap before searching online for Master’s programs. It was time to start making major life plans, now that I’d soon have the funds to support my goals.

  Unfortunately, my nap ended up being a four-hour snoozefest.

  Denton arrived home, the door opening and closing stirring me awake.

  “Oh, hey.” I sat up, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment. Shit, now he probably thought I was a lazy, unemployed bum, sleeping the day away like I had nothing better to do.

  Which was currently sort of true, I had to admit.

  But instead of looking annoyed, a wide smile spread across his face. He came over and kissed the top of my head. “Hey, yourself, gorgeous. You’re looking well and rested.”

  Warmth filled my chest as I glanced up at his happy green eyes. “How was your day?” Fuck, we sounded like a typical husband and wife.

  “Hectic, irritating, and fulfilling. The usual.” He straightened, loosening his tie. “What should we have for dinner?”

  “Actually, if you don’t mind waiting a bit, I thought I could whip up some pasta? Unless, of course, you want something else.”

  “Pasta’s fine. Let me change into something comfortable, and then I’ll help you.” With a wink, he went into the bedroom to change.

  For the next hour, we worked together making shrimp scampi and a Caesar salad.

  When we sat down to eat, Denton let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

  “What is it?” I glanced up from my plate of pasta, hoping he wasn’t laughing at the simple meal I’d chosen to prepare.

  “I just realized that I’ve never cooked in this kitchen before. Not that I can’t cook the basics. Usually it’s just my housekeeper who uses the appliances.”

  “Seriously? But why? You’ve got an amazing kitchen.” It was amazing. Miles of granite and more cabinets than I’d ever seen in a kitchen.

  “I guess because this penthouse never felt like much of a home?” He paused to glance around. “Although I have to say, it’s starting to feel like one now.”

  I hid my grin by shoveling another bite into my mouth, chewing quickly. Maybe, just maybe, Denton and I could make this work for real. And Ernest would be our biggest cheerleader.

  Over dinner, we discussed the wedding, and I finally agreed to the three-week plan.

  “Mom is hiring a wedding planner.”

  “What? A wedding planner?” I felt my eyes grow wide. This was b
ecoming much bigger than I’d envisioned when he’d propositioned it.

  “It’s okay.” Denton patted my hand. “This way, you can relax and have fun. All you have to do is be there on the day as the bride.”

  Bride. My breathing, which had been a bit faster than normal, kicked up a notch.

  Well, it was a good thing my fake mother-in-law was hiring a wedding planner, because I had no idea what to do. Other than panic.

  “What about our honeymoon?” he asked, unaware that I was having a mini meltdown. “Is there some place you’ve always dreamed of visiting?”

  I almost blurted out Europe, but I wanted to go there as a solo traveler. So I opted for a closer location. “Los Angeles.”

  He gave me a weird look. “You’ve never been to L.A.?”

  “Never left the East Coast,” I said cheerfully. “Oh! I’ve been to Canada once. Niagara Falls.”

  “Alright, Los Angeles it is. Now, about the bedroom situation…” A devilish expression entered his eyes. “You’ll be sleeping in my room from tonight onward. Agree or disagree?”

  My heart thumped inside my chest. “Agree. But I still want to keep the guest bedroom for my things. I’ve grown quite fond of it.”

  After clearing all our dirty plates and putting them and the pans in the dishwasher, I turned to ask Denton what he wanted to watch tonight and ran my nose straight into his chest. His arms went to either side of me as he gripped the counter and took a step forward, effectively pinning me between him and the granite. I couldn’t stop an “ohhh” from coming out.

  “‘Oh’ is right. I’m going to make you say more than oh.” His strong hands came up under my ass and lifted me, and I straddled his waist for a second before he sat me on the counter and pressed me back, one hand on my breast, the other on the top button of my blouse.

  “Here?”

  “It seems like the most appropriate place to… eat you.”

  I gasped at his words as he flung up my skirt, abandoning the buttons. Denton pushed my legs apart and there was the sound of material ripping as my underwear were torn away. He lowered himself eye level with my center, dipped his head in and sucked on my clit, causing waves of intense pleasure to flow through me. The sound racheted up the tension in my lower body, and I couldn’t seem to stop my feet from propping my legs up on the counter’s edge, my toes curling for purchase. Denton’s tongue made one long lap down the length of me then back up and I cried out and fisted his hair, urging him on. When he pushed his tongue inside me, the sensation sent me over the edge—every muscle in my torso, even in my back, clamping hard before the release came that was like a torrent.

  Before I’d come down from my high, Denton was unbuckling his belt, his pants, dropping them to the floor around his ankles. Then he was inside me, and I screamed at the feeling of being filled so completely.

  Denton lifted my hips, pinning my ankles around his neck, locking my knees. This tightened my channel, made each thrust of his hardness into my delicate flesh so much more intense. His green eyes never left mine, and while I’d enjoyed the eye contact before, this time it was in the harsh light of the kitchen and all too profound.

  I tried closing my eyes, but he wasn’t having it.

  “Look at me.”

  My eyes snapped open at his command, and I looked and couldn’t tear my gaze away from the shimmering green because it was true—eyes were the window to the soul. And I could see deep into Denton and the feelings he harbored for me.

  A haze that told me he was close covered the emotions and he plunged into me as I tightened my legs, making him work harder to slide inside. He shouted my name when he came, a hot burst of wet, causing the orgasm I hadn’t seen coming to wash over me.

  After we could breathe again, we hopped into the shower then stumbled into bed, our bodies still glistening with water droplets. Spent and exhausted, I turned to smile at Denton as he pulled me to his chest.

  “You sounded pretty down yesterday.” He pushed my still wet hair behind my ear with his thumb. “What about now? Feeling better?”

  I laughed softly. “I’ve just had two orgasms back to back. So yes, I am feeling much better.”

  “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “But I’m not lying. I’m feeling better, Denton. Promise.”

  “Good.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “Want to cuddle for a while, Drunk Cute Girl?”

  “Sure, Blondie. And while we’re at it, let’s have a bet. Let’s see who can fall asleep the fastest.”

  He snorted. “You just had an afternoon nap, so that’s not really fair.”

  “Oh, please. That was a cat nap.”

  “Fine. You’re on. What’s the stakes?”

  “Oral. Done by whoever is awake last.”

  There was a stretched out second of silence then an exagerrated snore filled the room.

  I dissolved into giggles and, of course, won the stupid bet. It was what I’d wanted. To do to him what he’d done to me twice. Plus, having him think about it for a while first was a point in my favor. I frowned. When did I start thinking of this in terms of winning him?

  As he lay there, softly snoring for real, I ran my hand through his thick blond hair.

  “I don’t want to fall in love with you,” I whispered, stubbornly blinking back the tears that came to my eyes. “But I think I already am. And it scares me to death.”

  Unable to help myself, I snuggled in closer and listened to his heartbeat as I drifted off to sleep.

  Nine

  Three Weeks Later

  We were married in the Hamptons, with a few select guests present, all friends of Denton’s except for Rachael. Rach had attended because she’d never been to the Hamptons, plus I kicked in a girls’ weekend at the spa for putting up the farce. Oh, and bought my own wedding present for her to bring. When people asked why my mother wasn’t at the wedding, I gushed about how she was traveling the world with her new beau and because of the sudden wedding date, she hadn’t been able to make the proper arrangements to attend.

  For some reason, people seemed content with that answer.

  Denton and I danced our first dance out on the terrace, the salty ocean breeze ruffling our hair.

  He pulled me closer then whirled me around. “Mrs. Tiffany North. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “I could definitely get used to it. Then again, ‘Tiffany’ goes with a lot of last names,” I teased. “For example, Tiffany Morris, Tiffany Pine…”

  “Tiffany Morris? You’re actually using your ex-manager’s surname as an example?”

  Now that we were married, it was time for confessions. “Andy and I used to date.” I avoided his gaze, looking over his shoulder at the sun setting over the beach.

  “Is that so? For how long?”

  “About a year. That night we met at the nightclub? Rach and I were there because I needed to drown my sorrows. The asshole had dumped me via text message two weeks earlier, you see.”

  Shocked, Denton stopped moving. “And then you got engaged to me. No wonder the little fucker kept looking at me like I was crazy.”

  “Well, that’s all over now, so let’s forget about him.” My gaze wandered over to Gloria. “I think your next dance should be with your mother. I’ll go find Patrick.”

  The next half hour was spent dancing with parents and relatives whose names escaped me, as well as with Rach. She was already semi-drunk, her sandy hair windblown.

  “This party is awesome.” She swayed slightly, and not in time to the music. “And I have to say, Denton has a lot of cute friends.” She drunkenly pointed toward one and ended up leering at Ernest, who was frowning at a gaggle of kids running across the manicured grass. “See that one over there? He’s so damn hot.”

  “That’s Denton’s granddad.” I caught her arm, trying to keep her on her feet. “And I’m afraid if you did approach him, he’d try to jump your bones. No questions asked.”

  “I love it when a man t
akes the lead,” she slurred.

  Shaking my head, I ushered her toward the drinks table and asked one of the servers for a cup of strong, black coffee.

  “By the way,” she added, leaning on me, “Andy knows about your wedding today.”

  “Because you told him?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Don’t get saucy with me, you little minx. Of course I told him, he asked.” Rach released a faint burp. “Know what he said to me? ‘That sham marriage won’t last.’ Deluded fucker.”

  “He really said that?” Was it a timely guess, or did Andy actually know something?

  “If I were you, I’d be careful. Andy’s goal is to get you back. And he’ll do anything to make it happen.”

  That sounded kind of threatening. Which was ridiculous because Andy wasn’t known for aggressive behavior. There was plenty of asshole in him, but he wasn’t the take-charge type.

  Before Denton and I left for our honeymoon, Ernest called me over and presented me with a beautiful powder-blue box.

  “Don’t open this until you get to L.A.,” he ordered gruffly. “It’s a necklace, by the way. Once belonged to my late wife, but I think you should have it now.”

  How could he give me such a priceless heirloom, knowing full well what kind of marriage this was?

  I shook my head. “I can’t accept this, Ernest. Something this precious should go to your daughter-in-law instead.” I glanced at Gloria, who was hugging her son and shedding tears of joy.

  “I’ve given her plenty, she doesn’t need this as well. It’s yours, Tiffany.” And he nudged my hip with the box.

  With a grateful smile, I relented and accepted the gift. “I’ll take good care of it. Thank you, Ernest.” I leaned down to kiss his scruffy cheek.

  “Remember our deal. Make him fall madly in love.” Ernest made a shooing gesture at me. “Now go and make many great-grandchildren for me.”

  Since I’d never been to Los Angeles, Denton took me shopping at Rodeo Drive, to the Getty Museum and, of course, to the Hollywood Hills and Universal Studios. We lodged at the Four Seasons, where Denton and I stayed cooped up most of the evenings. If I didn’t know better, I’d say we were behaving like a typical, honeymooning couple—lots of fucking, smooching, and just having a great time. The only thing missing was the guarantee of a future together.

 

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