Fake Love

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Fake Love Page 7

by Jillian Dodd


  “If she would fall for you just because you were a professional quarterback, you shouldn’t want her,” he said firmly.

  “I know.”

  “Have you told her how you feel?”

  “No. I don’t want to mess up a good thing. Or scare her away.”

  “If you love her, Carter, you should tell her.”

  “I feel like I’m on the scout team with her.”

  “And you want to be the starter?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted.

  “Is she seeing other people? Are you?”

  “In the last month, I haven’t. I don’t know about her. She’s been traveling nonstop since New York Fashion Week. We talk almost every day, but she could have a different guy in every country for all I know.”

  “When you see her tomorrow, you should ask her.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You aren’t going to, are you?”

  “No, not yet. I don’t want to screw things up.”

  “Do you ever think about getting married?” he asked me.

  I knew it was on his mind. He had recently seen Palmer Montlake at a wedding. Cade and her brother Pike had been best friends and teammates, growing up, and when Palmer and Cade had secretly dated and then broken up, he’d not only lost the love of his life, but he’d lost his best friend too.

  “Our brother is certainly happy,” I said, glancing at our youngest brother, Cash, and his new wife, Ashlyn, who were wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing.

  “Cash was always a serial dater,” Cade said. “Unlike you.”

  I couldn’t help but grin and recall my glory days. “I did get a lot of tail in college.”

  “One of the benefits of being a star collegiate quarterback.”

  “Or the star catcher,” I reminded him. “Remember those shirts all the girls wore when you and Pike were playing together? When I was in high school, my goal in life was to someday have stands full of girls wearing my name.”

  “The I got Piked shirts?”

  “If I recall, many said, Caught by Cade.”

  “Well, back then, there was a lot of juggling on the lineup.” He took a pull of his beer and laughed.

  “Seems like there’s still a lot of juggling on the lineup for you. Be honest with me.” I asked him seriously, “Do you wish you were hitting home runs with the same girl every night?”

  We both glanced at the house. Ashlyn was now lying on the couch with her head in Cash’s lap. He was gently stroking her hair as they talked.

  “They do look happy,” he admitted.

  “After Cash and his longtime girlfriend broke up, he was a lot like us, playing the field,” I stated. “Until he met Ashlyn.”

  “Exactly my point,” Cade said. “You never know when it will hit you. He went to a wedding, hoping to get laid, and now, look at him.”

  “So, you’re saying, there’s hope for me and Vale?”

  “I’m saying, you never know.”

  “She’s like a guy when it comes to sex. I’m not quite sure how to handle her,” I said.

  And I realize I’m still not sure.

  I could call Cade, but he and Palmer are expecting their first child and are deliriously happy. And they never started as a hook-up. My brother Cash and his wife, Ashlyn, however did. They got drunk together, flew to Vegas on my plane, had a wild night, and ended up married. It’s the kind of night an agent prays one of their clients never has. Ashlyn didn’t even know Cash’s real name or that he was our younger brother.

  But the truth is, sometimes, fate does play a role in life because they are perfect for each other.

  And honestly, that’s why I’m sitting in a garden in Iowa, pretending to be the fiancé of the girl I wanted to marry at her little sister’s wedding.

  Because of the off chance that this is fate’s way of intervening in my life.

  I close my eyes and dial the number, feeling relieved when Ashlyn answers.

  “Hey, Carter,” she says. “What’s up?”

  “A lot actually. Are you busy? Do you have a minute to talk? Is Cash sitting right next to you?”

  “That’s a lot of questions. I happen to be on set, waiting for my next scene. Yes, I have a minute. Actually, I have ten. And, no, Cash is at work. Where are you?”

  “Iowa. Possibly in the middle of a cornfield.”

  She lets out a laugh. “It’s funny that you called. I’ve been thinking of you a lot today.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “The role I’m playing. Remember how Cade tried to set us up before I met Cash?”

  I can’t help but laugh. “I thought you were hot, but we had no sparks.”

  “Exactly. Isn’t that weird? You were totally my type. Former college quarterback, smart, had a great body. You’re sweet and sexy. So, the question is, why? Why didn’t we connect? Why didn’t we just hook up?”

  “Because you were meant to be with my brother,” I say.

  “And that’s what makes it even weirder, right? It’s like fate knew or something that I shouldn’t be with you because if I had, it probably wouldn’t have worked out for me and Cash, and then I’d be sad instead of stupid happy with your brother.”

  “And that is exactly why I’m calling. Because you believe in that stuff.”

  “Wait. Vale is from Iowa.”

  “Yep. She showed up on my doorstep this morning. Begged me to come with her to her little sister’s wedding.”

  “But you haven’t seen her in months. And you’ve never told us what really happened between you two.”

  “That’s because it’s embarrassing.”

  “You’ve known me a long time, Carter. You know plenty of embarrassing things about me.”

  I laugh. “True. Okay, so I flew to New York on New Year’s Eve for her party. I’d told her I didn’t know if I would be able to be there because I wanted to surprise her.”

  “Oh, Carter,” Ashlyn says slowly, clearly understanding. “Let me guess. You got surprised instead?”

  “Yeah. The weather and traffic were horrible. I barely made it in time before the clock hit midnight. And I saw her kissing another man. I was going to propose, Ash..”

  “She told me you didn’t show up.”

  “That’s because I didn’t tell her the truth. Why would I?”

  “She also told me that you said as the clock struck midnight, you realized she wasn’t the girl for you. You broke her heart.”

  “Well, she broke mine first. And have you been talking to her about me?”

  “Yes, occasionally. We’re friends, Carter. When you said what you did, she assumed that there was someone else.”

  “There wasn’t for me, but obviously, there was for her. I’m glad I saw that before I stupidly proposed.”

  “And why are you calling me now?”

  “Because I’m pretending to be her fake fiancé.”

  “You’re what?!”

  “Yes, I have to lie to her family and pretend to love her.”

  “But you’re not pretending,” she says astutely.

  “I agreed to this whole mess because I do still love her, and I called you because of your feelings on fate. What I need to know is if this is fate’s way of bringing her back in my life. I had to do this, right? Just in case it is. I feel like I’m either crazy or an idiot.”

  “That’s love for you,” Ashlyn says with a laugh. “And for what it’s worth, I do believe fate has given you a second chance. You need to tell her what you did. What you saw. And how you felt. And you need to really pay attention to how she responds.” She’s quiet for a moment before adding, “Carter, you give good advice. Always. What advice would you give to yourself in this situation?”

  “I would tell myself to follow my heart and go get my girl.”

  “Then, do it. And for goodness’ sake, text me and keep me updated. I’d better not have to wait until the weekend is over to hear how it went.”

  “Don’t tell the family, okay?” I beg. “Not yet.”

 
She laughs. “You picked the wrong girl to call, Carter. I can’t keep a secret to save my life. You should have called Cade for that.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as I end the call.

  Another wedding.

  Vale

  “Sorry about that,” Trent says to me. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

  I can’t help but shoot him a dirty look. “Yes, you did. You forget how well I know you.”

  “Knew me. Been a long time since you have been back home.”

  “Well, some things don’t change. Are you still in the habit of walking around the house like you own the place?”

  “Yeah, sort of,” he admits. “This has always been my second home. Your mom still has me over for Sunday dinner.”

  “She does not,” I gasp.

  He turns to me, lifting his broad shoulders. “What’s the matter with that?”

  Does he really want to know?

  “What about … you know, a girlfriend? Don’t you ever have other plans?”

  “Sundays are for the Martins. As for girlfriends, there hasn’t been anyone serious in a very long time.”

  He gives me a meaningful look that I hope doesn’t mean what it seems to.

  Has he really not been in a relationship since I left?

  “Trent, you deserve better than that.”

  “With all due respect, Vale, I think I’m the best one to decide what I deserve. I know what I’m after.” He winks at me before sauntering off.

  And it makes me feel a little sick to my stomach.

  “There you are,” my mother says, rushing past me as she comes through the front door. “I could use another pair of hands, honey. Everyone is outside, prepping and baking the pizzas, but I need to get the sides out there.”

  “Pizzas?” I ask.

  “Yes, that’s what your sister and AJ requested for tonight’s pre-party. Their favorite thing to do when they came home from college was to make all sorts of creative pizza combinations in the outdoor oven.”

  “You have an outdoor oven?”

  “Yes, for pizza. Come. You’ll see.”

  “Sorry I took so long upstairs. I left LA really early this morning and needed to freshen up for tonight.”

  I grab a platter filled with a caprese salad while she has her arms wrapped around a large wooden salad bowl, and I follow her to a beautifully constructed outdoor patio. It’s situated between the main barn and the house and a new addition to the land since the last time I was here. Just as the barn is set up for parties, this is too. There are lights strung across the rafters of a pergola, hanging over a long, heavy wooden dining table—the kind that comfortably seats about twenty. Scattered about are other smaller dining tables and seating areas.

  There’s a line of trees near the house, most likely for both privacy and to block the chilly north winds, but the back is open to the formal garden, gazebo, and then to the rolling meadow beyond.

  There’s a full outdoor kitchen with dual gas grills, a smoker, and a pizza oven. Adjacent from it is a bar for serving drinks and a buffet counter. Plants add color and beauty.

  Although I noticed the trees were new when I arrived, I didn’t realize all this was back here.

  It’s like a little secret garden.

  “This is beautiful,” I tell my mother.

  “It turned out great. One of my favorite places on the farm. The old patio we used when you were a kid got small as our family expanded. And the space is great for throwing parties. We often use it as a spot for cocktails before hosting benefits in the barn. Your father is a pillar of the community. I really wish you didn’t butt heads. Have you spoken to him yet?”

  “A little.”

  “Vale.” She gives me a stern look.

  “What am I supposed to talk to him about? He was downright rude to Carter when we arrived, and I don’t want to cause a scene during my sister’s wedding weekend.”

  Mom seems to ignore all that. “Your father likes Carter. I can tell you that much.”

  Funny how I can feel strangely proud and guilty as hell all at once.

  “He should. Carter’s a great guy.”

  “I hope we’re all able to get to know him. And get reacquainted with you. It’s been a while.”

  “Yes, it has. But you know why.”

  “Regardless, I’m happy for you, sweetheart. As soon as we get through this weekend, we’ll have another wedding to plan,” she says happily.

  “We just got engaged,” I say flippantly as we make our way back to the house and into the dining room to retrieve whatever else needs to be brought out. “I haven’t had time to think about what kind of wedding I want or where I want it to be. Carter’s family is all in California, and our friends are spread out all over the world.”

  She stops at the end of the long table and turns to face me. “You don’t want to have your wedding here?” she says, sucking in a breath.

  I wonder why in the world she would ever think I would want to.

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath on that one, Mom,” my sister Brooke says, rolling her eyes. “She hasn’t been home in four years, and that was only for Lakelyn’s high school graduation ceremony.”

  I’m hoping she’ll stay and back me up, but she picks up a tray of pink-frosted cupcakes and hightails it out of the house.

  “It’s Lakelyn’s weekend—her wedding, Mom. Let’s focus on that. Besides, I want to plan and pay for my own wedding.”

  “What’s this?” my father says, his voice booming from behind us.

  I swear, the man has a sixth sense. Whenever I’m talking about something he’s likely to have a problem with—in other words, just about anything at all—he finds a way to overhear it.

  “You too good to let your father pay for your wedding?”

  Even if my mother understood why I’d want to pay and plan my own wedding, I know she won’t say anything, so I say with as much patience as I can muster, “I. Haven’t. Made. Any. Wedding. Plans. Yet.”

  “Too good for us,” my father says, nodding his head. “You always thought you were too good.”

  “Can we not do this right now?” I beg. “Not this weekend.”

  “It’ll be too late to have it the next time we see each other, going by the frequency with which you come home to see your family,” he says, adding insult to injury.

  “I can’t imagine why I don’t come home more often,” I say flatly, “when I get such a warm welcome and have so many of these touching, tender family moments.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Not my problem

  Carter

  I sneak in through the back of the house and immediately can tell something’s wrong. There are angry voices coming from down the hall, and I head toward them, finding myself at the entry to the kitchen.

  I see a table in the center of the room, acting as both an island and a place to dine. It’s much more casual than the rest of the home. Actually, that’s something that has surprised me most about Vale’s home. The way she spoke of the place had me thinking it would be a shabby, old farmhouse, not this beautiful and grand country home.

  The kitchen is the most rustic of the rooms I’ve seen, but it’s cozy and warm. The sort of kitchen I would expect to see on a farm, only much larger, with top-of-the-line appliances. There are herbs and flowers on the windowsills, a basket of eggs on the counter. I can imagine quiet Sunday morning breakfasts in this room, sunlight streaming in. It’s really soothing here, and I can see why so many celebrities build homes like this, away from it all—to do nothing but relax with their families.

  There’s nothing relaxing about what is going on now though. Vale and her father are having words in the nearby dining room, and then she storms out before I can even step into the room.

  “Isn’t it bad enough the man couldn’t speak to me before asking for my daughter’s hand?” Mr. Martin says to his wife.

  “Please, don’t hold that against her,” I say, boldly joining them. “I couldn’t help myself, as I
told you earlier.”

  At least Mrs. Martin has the grace to look embarrassed. Her husband is another matter. He smirks, folding his arms in a way that reminds me of Vale.

  “We settled that, son, but now, I hear you’re not going to let me pay for my daughter’s wedding.” He holds his arms out and gestures around him. “Is this not good enough for either of you?”

  “We haven’t made any plans yet, sir,” I explain, glancing at his wife. “As you both know, we’ve been engaged for a very short time.”

  I can tell Mrs. Martin appreciates this.

  She touches her husband’s arm. “We don’t have to talk about this now. And I shouldn’t have even brought it up today. I just got carried away at the thought of helping to plan my Vale’s wedding.”

  I do what I can to ignore the clenching of my heart. Vale’s mother seems nice. And she will be hurt when she finds out our engagement was just a sham.

  Not that I had much time to think things over this morning, but it hits me like a ton of bricks now. Vale will have to tell her family of our breakup, and I can’t help but wonder how they will take the news.

  Obviously, not my problem, but still.

  If I’m nothing else, I’m good in a room. I am very good at presenting myself to potential clients. But I am always honest with them. I want to be clear about my expectations upfront. In other words, I don’t lie to them. I don’t embellish. My father always says a man is only as good as his word.

  This weekend, I’m not feeling like a good man. I hate lying. But I love Vale. And whether or not we’ll ever be together doesn’t matter. I agreed to do this for her.

  “It’s probably my fault, sir,” I say, standing up tall. “I’m of the age and means that I just assumed that I would pay for our wedding. I don’t mean to insult you in any way. Just know that if contributing to our day is important to you, I’m sure we can work something out.”

  Only then do I notice Vale standing on the other side of the room with tears in her eyes.

  And I wish it didn’t make me feel so good, having her look at me like that.

 

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