Faking It (Single Dad Fake Marriage Box Set#1-5)

by J. J. Bella

  “I called Evelyn,” he said. “Isla is fine and resting. I’ll be picking her up on Monday.”

  I nodded my head. I took a deep breath.

  “I’ve made my final decision. And it’s yes. I’ll marry you. I’m sure of it.”

  Silence filled the room. Then two things crossed Peter’s face—first was disbelief again, followed by relief so stark that I realized he’d been hoping all along but hadn’t wanted to force the issue. My heart stumbled, and before I knew it, I was striding over to him just as a grin spread on his face, wide and happy.

  I didn’t think about it. I just threw my arms around him and gave him a hug, no longer able to stop myself even if I tried. I succumbed to the crazy feelings growing inside me, tumbling in my stomach and heightening every sensation. At the same time, I wanted to assure him that I wasn’t going to change my mind anytime soon, and he didn’t need to worry. We were going to fight for Isla, and we were going to win. She was going to be taken care of so well, and she was going to be the happiest girl in the world.

  Peter’s hands settled on my waist, more out of surprise at first. But he held on, and after a few seconds he hugged me back, drawing me closer until we were pressed together. This time, not only could I see his hard body—I could feel it, too, along with the warmth he radiated that seeped into me and spread all over my skin. His hand on my chin had been calloused and gentle, but now his hands on my waist…they were rough and gentle, too, a contrast that had butterflies fluttering inside me.

  I looked up.

  He was looking at me. He had been looking at me this whole time, and his blue eyes had darkened to a color that was unreadable, but so electric. It zinged me, and the tension grew and covered us like a vibrating blanket.

  An irresistible blanket.

  His gaze flickered to my mouth, and his hands tightened on my waist. Our faces were only inches apart, and his warm breath caressed my lips. Then I watched his face grow blank, and for some reason that felt like being doused with cold water.

  Whatever I thought was going to happen…it wasn’t.

  I reined my emotions in. I moved my head away from him. I thought he would kiss me, but again, I was thinking too much. Of course, he wouldn’t.

  I shouldn’t expect. In fact, I should control myself better. I couldn’t have him, because first of all, we weren’t married—and second of all, even if we were, it was all just pretend and wouldn’t be a marriage celebrating love.

  It would be a marriage of convenience.

  Another thought crossed me—that of the marriage itself, particularly the wedding night. Despite my exposure to sex and the opposite sex, I hadn’t…well, I hadn’t slept with anyone. Michelle told me sex was phenomenal, but the thought of having a man invade your body and how quick it was, like how Michelle and her guys did it…it terrified me, honestly.

  And having sex with a guy who didn’t love me? It terrified me all the more.

  As if he thought the exact same thing, it was Peter who stepped away first, letting me go. I immediately missed his touch but dismissed the thought, watching the sheepish half-smile form on his lips.

  “Sorry, I got carried away,” he muttered. Then he watched me again, smiling wider, this time more playfully. “Thank you, Rachel. Thank you for being so kind and understanding. I needed this, and you…you’re amazing.”

  I nodded my head, uttering that it was no problem at all. Peter said that I should rest, and I grabbed at that excuse and slipped out of there as quickly as I could, going to my room in no time.

  When we got married, was I going to move in his bedroom? What would happen to our camaraderie? How would Isla react? Would she be happy? Would she end up hating me? What about Peter’s ex-wife?

  Oh God, how would my family react?

  I hadn’t even considered them, and I knew they’d definitely be shocked about this. I’d been too busy thinking about Isla and everything that happened that I barely thought about telling them.

  But I wouldn’t back out, not when I already said yes to Peter. It was a promise for me, and I didn’t back out of promises—not when something important was on the line.

  Would this all work out?

  Only time would tell, and worrying over it would get me nowhere. The future was uncertain, and so were the results of what we were about to do. But there was one thing I was certain of tonight: that I was definitely not going to get any sleep with everything that was running inside me.

  Peter

  I never thought I would be getting married all over again, not when my first marriage had failed so badly. I just didn’t trust women enough, and I didn’t think there was ever any woman in my life that I considered important enough to even think about it.

  Until now—except it wasn’t a woman I was thinking about, but a little girl.

  Alright, and maybe I was also thinking about this woman.

  There was no denying that Rachel was a woman, despite her young age. My reaction to her was definitely that of a man, especially when she threw herself in my arms and caught me off guard. It had started off warm and comfortable, and I even reached out and pulled her closer, wanting more of that warmth and comfort she was offering.

  And then what started off as warm became warm due to an entirely different reason, and before I knew it, I was turned on in a matter of seconds. I did my best to fight it—did my best not to let her know that a raging erection had started inside my pants, because it might scare her off. Fortunately, Rachel didn’t notice, as she was focused on my face before she said goodnight and slipped out of there.

  Unfortunately, I was stuck with my hard-on for the rest of the night and thinking about her soft body against my hard one instead of trying to think about my upcoming marriage.

  The next day, I did think about said upcoming marriage, turning it over in my mind. In the end, my thought solidified that it was the best for Isla, especially when it could provide the stable environment that she needed so much. I was aware of my situation as a soldier and how hard it was for her, though Isla always remained positive and never said anything bad about it—she always kept telling me she knew I was doing it so we could have money and she could buy her ballet slippers, something that had me smiling. But I was often worried, too. Now, because of this new turn of events, relief poured out of me in waves as I realized Isla could finally have what she missed, despite Evelyn being there: a mother who would care for her deeply.

  My thought also solidified in giving Rachel a proper wedding: asking her family to come, doing it in church and all the works. She didn’t exactly specify it, but I knew most women dreamed of the perfect wedding, and I didn’t want to take that from her. She deserved the best for even agreeing to this odd setup between us, and I wanted her to remain happy with her decision and never have a moment to regret it.

  Of course, I knew I was going to be called in for a mission soon, as was my life. But I had called my boss up to ask permission to at least keep my next four weeks free, and he was kind enough—at least, in his own terms—to negotiate that I could always do paperwork and train some troops in the meantime. When that was done, I called Evelyn to speak with Isla, telling her that I would be picking her up on Thursday night instead, but that I would be visiting her sometime today. She assured me that her leg was fine but that she was so bored, and I promised her I would tell her a crazy story that would make her laugh and erase the boredom.

  Because it was a Sunday and we had the house to ourselves, Rachel and I made use of it by staying in the living room and planning what we needed to plan. She didn’t mind having the wedding before the month was up, saying the earlier the better so Evelyn would no longer have any hold before she even started filing for custody. I called a wedding planner, who came over within an hour and discussed initial things with us like theme, budget, food, and dresses. By the time the planner had left, we already had a reception hall booked, arranged dresses to be fitted later for Rachel and Isla, and planned the invitation designs to be sent out in a few day
s.

  The next thing to do was to drive over to where Rachel’s parents lived, which was pretty similar to my town except for it probably being quieter. We knocked on the door together, and I let Rachel ease them in on the news before I had a serious talk with her father and told him that I cared for her very much. He questioned the quickness of the decision at first, but Rachel and I had already agreed to keep the explanation simple: that in our week getting to know each other, we realized we were compatible and wanted nothing more than to get married and create a happy home for Isla. I could sense their wariness of me, but stubborn ass that I was, I tried my best to be as pleasant and charming as possible and promised them that I was going to take good care of their daughter. They accepted that well enough, however reluctantly, and I took note that I needed to do my best over the next few weeks to win them over.

  Once we were done visiting Rachel’s parents, it was then time to get to Evelyn’s. I could tell Rachel was tense the closer we got to my ex-wife’s neighborhood, and after a while, she finally spoke out her worry.

  “She might see through us,” she said once I was driving in the neighborhood full of mansions and high-end houses. It was a pretty posh area, and I was aware some movie stars even lived somewhere here.

  I gave Rachel a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll keep as simple as we can.” Then I was parking my car in front of Evelyn’s driveway, and Rachel’s eyes widened as she stared at the mansion.

  Just like at her parents’ house, Rachel and I knocked together—or in this case, rang the fancy doorbell—waiting until the housekeeper, who usually arrived at nine in the morning, opened the door for us. I asked for Evelyn, and she ushered us in to the foyer where we waited.

  Five minutes later, Evelyn appeared wearing a fancy dress and high heels, though she had no bag with her. I’d seen her enough to know she dressed like this daily, and it again reminded me of the contrast of our lives now. She looked at me with absolutely no expression, as I already told her I’d be coming. But then her gaze turned to Rachel, and her mouth flattened.

  “What is she doing here?”

  “Visiting Isla,” I replied, coolly. “Where is she?”

  “Isla’s in her room.” Evelyn frowned. “I thought I already said what she did wrong.”

  “She did nothing wrong,” I said, calmly. My hand reached out for Rachel’s, squeezing it, and I watched Evelyn zone in on the movement. Her brown eyes widened. “And her name is Rachel. She’s my fiancé.”

  Shock filled Evelyn’s face. “She didn’t tell me that.”

  “We wanted to keep it secret until we made the announcement,” I explained. “But I guess it’s about time we tell everybody.”

  Evelyn opened her mouth to say something. But before she could, a tiny voice shouted from the right, and both Rachel and I turned our attention there.

  “Dad! Rachel!”

  Isla was standing beside the stairs, wearing her cast and holding on to some crutches. My heart went out at the sight of her, and without another word to Evelyn, I was already pulling Rachel’s hand and crossing the foyer towards Isla. I knelt down in front of her, wanting so much to hug her but not knowing how to position my hands without hurting her. But she solved the problem for me, letting go of one crutch and putting an arm around me. I hugged her back tentatively, then tighter, inhaling her scent of baby powder and…sunshine.

  The feeling of missing her rushed through me, and suddenly I didn’t want to let Isla go. But I knew I had to be civil and not make a scene in my ex-wife’s house, and so I eased back and gave her a smile.

  Without missing a beat, Isla turned to the kneeling Rachel. Then she wrapped her arms around Rachel and hugged her, too. Rachel looked surprised but pleased, and she returned the gesture affectionately. I watched them in fascination, seeing the bond they created in their short time together and realizing that Rachel did already care about Isla. It was clear on her face and how she hugged Isla tightly, right before she eased back, too.

  Now Isla was smiling widely, her blue eyes sparkling.

  “I’m so glad you visited! I have been…” she trailed off, glancing at her mother. She beamed. “Mom, do you want to hear the bedtime story dad promised to tell me?”

  Evelyn tried her best not to wrinkle her nose, though she didn’t quite succeed. “No, thank you. I have something to attend to. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

  And just like that, she left. I raised a brow at Isla, whose eyes were still sparkling and trying to fight back a smile. I grinned at her, then began to direct her towards her bedroom, which was the guestroom located just near the kitchen. She actually had a room on the second floor, but for now Evelyn let her use this one.

  Just like when we told Rachel’s parents the news, we eased Isla into it, focusing on her condition first. Apparently, she could still feel twinges of pain, but she announced that she was a brave girl because she didn’t cry like she did back then and she was getting better at using her crutches. Rachel looked so sad, and Isla noticed and hugged her again. Then Isla turned to me, those big eyes of hers turning pleading. That always happened when she wanted something, and I knew what she wanted now.

  “I want to go home with you, Dad.”

  There was nothing I wanted to do but say yes. Unfortunately, I had to stick to the schedule. A part of me hoped Evelyn would push Isla away again like she did before, but that was selfish. Besides, I knew she wouldn’t, not with this new threat of hers.

  Instead of agreeing, I gave Isla a smile. “You know I can’t do that, sweetie.” My daughter pouted, but she didn’t whine like she usually did. So I kept talking. “But Rachel and I have some news for you that I hope will get you excited to come home this Thursday.”

  Her eyes brightened a little bit as she looked at the two of us. “What is it?” she demanded.

  I glanced at Rachel, who was sitting still. I was kneeling in front of Isla while Rachel was sitting beside her. They were holding hands almost unconsciously, and again, something warm fluttered and settled inside me at the sight. I took a deep breath. Then I went for it.

  Isla listened intently as I explained how all I wanted was to provide a good future for her, and for her to be happy. Then I told her that there was someone else that I cared deeply about, and that I wanted this certain person to be a part of our family. I took both Isla’s and Rachel’s hands as I told my daughter about proposing to Rachel and her saying yes, and I waited as Isla absorbed the information.

  I expected her to have some questions, as she usually did when she didn’t understand something or was very curious and wanted to find out the answers immediately. I braced myself for it. But surprise filled me when instead of asking, Isla’s face broke into a grin—one so wide and happy as she just leaned into us both and hugged us together.

  “This is the best news ever!”

  And just like that, my daughter was the most excited person in the world.

  The days passed by really quickly and finally, Thursday night came. I picked up the overexcited Isla with Rachel, and we settled her in the backseat where she chattered a mile a minute about the upcoming wedding and wouldn’t shut up about it. She practically bounced with her energy—she tried to, at least, even with her cast. Rachel laughed with her and answered her questions, and I listened as they talked about dresses and how excited they both were to try them out. I realized that Rachel’s shyness always disappeared around Isla, and I couldn’t help but feel good about how they treated each other—like they were so fond of each other and couldn’t get enough. It was the best I could hope for, and I couldn’t believe how things were working out.

  Before I knew it, the week had passed and we were almost reaching two. Things got busy, and Rachel and I did our best to attend to matters as best as we could. It got easier to be around her day by day, but I wouldn’t say it got more relaxed.

  To be honest, each day with her only made me more aware of just how attracted I was to her—how I was growing more and more
into my desire for her. God, I wanted her. There was no denying it, and there was no stopping it. It was a need that was carnal and deep, and sometimes I had to stop my hands from actively reaching out for her. She often wore ordinary shirts and denim shorts around the house, and while there was nothing provocative about them, there was no hiding that fantastic figure of hers—all natural curves, with a firm-looking butt and a sizeable rack that I shouldn’t even be glancing at. She really carried herself well without screaming for attention, like she was comfortable with herself and didn’t have to try hard to please anyone. Because of this, it only made her more appealing to me, because everything about her was so natural.

  Even her sexiness was natural, and I didn’t think she was even aware of how she exuded innocent sensuality in spades.

  And that hair. That wild, curly, sexy hair should be illegal.

  Sometimes, I just wanted to throw everything to hell and pull her in, then give her a long, hungry kiss that I’d been imagining giving her since the first day I met her. Then I wanted to touch her in places that would make her moan out in pleasure, because I had the feeling it was going to be the sexiest sound in the world. It made me feel like a lecher—at the same time, it energized me, and her cheerful disposition along with Isla’s was like a vitamin and a source of energy rolled into one. It was addictive, and it was infectious. She was addictive, and it was all I could to be civil around her and not make any move in the meantime.

  Other than my attraction to her, I also liked her personality. And I liked how she always prioritized Isla’s needs. I could see them connect each and every day, and I could see Isla getting more excited about all the planning. She was better at walking fast with her crutches now, and I knew she’d be walking normally in no time.

  As for Rachel…what was I going to do with her after the wedding?

  Obviously I knew what I wanted to do—and what I wanted to do involved sliding her wedding dress off her and licking my way from her mouth down to the wet heat in between her legs. I wanted to do unspeakable things to her, quite frankly, and it was a goddamn miracle that I was able to hold out until now.