Accidental Baby: Ryder & Trina's Story (Fake Marriage Romance Book 2)

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Accidental Baby: Ryder & Trina's Story (Fake Marriage Romance Book 2) Page 9

by Ajme Williams


  “Ryder?” I walked up the hallway toward his room. The door was closed, so I knocked.

  He opened it with his signature sexy smile. “Hey.”

  I was surprised to find him in nice slacks, a crisp button-up shirt, and even a tie. God, did he have a date? Jealousy shot through me like a flash fire. “It looks like you have plans.”

  He arched a brow, no doubt noting the anger in my tone. Then he gave me his slow grin. “I do have plans. So do you.”

  “I do?”

  “It’s our anniversary, so I’m taking you out to dinner. Go change and I’ll pour us some wine before we go.”

  I studied him for a moment unable to stop the fear that there was a punchline somewhere. Was this some sort of game? His affable expression suggested he was sincere. That made me worried that he was taking this marriage thing a little too seriously. Fake marriages didn’t need to celebrate milestones like anniversaries.

  “It’s just dinner,” he said, with a shake of his head. I wondered if he thought I needed therapy too.

  I told myself that I enjoyed my time with him and that he was being Ryder; fun and spontaneous, so I went to change. I hadn’t packed a fancy dress as I didn’t expect to need one during this fake marriage. I’d picked up the dress I wore to the senior event from my house when Sinclair told me to go in her stead. It was the nicest thing I had now and would have to do. I hoped he didn’t mind that I was wearing something I’d worn before.

  I changed and then went into the bathroom to redo my make up and touch up my hair. I spritzed on a little perfume and then went to meet him in the kitchen. When I walked in, his slow sexy smile spread on his face.

  “I love that dress on you.”

  “You do?” I looked down. I knew the coloring was nice with my skin tone and hair, and I liked how it fit, but I hadn’t imagined it would make a man like Ryder look at me like he wanted to devour me. I was a smart practical woman, but I couldn’t deny liking that Ryder thought I looked sexy. I wondered if I could find the dress in a different color. Maybe a royal blue. That looked good with my hair too.

  “I do.” He handed me a glass of wine, which I figured was probably designed to soothe my edges.

  When we finished, he helped me into his truck and drove me to Milena’s Ristorante.

  “Wow, Milena’s. I guess this fake marriage is going well.”

  He grinned. “And they said it wouldn’t last.”

  I laughed, surprising myself at how free and enjoyable it felt. “Is this something we can afford? I mean I’m a lowly secretary and you’re a starving artist.”

  He took my hand as we walked to the door. “There’s no lowly about you. The mayor’s office would be a chaotic mess without you. And me, I make just enough to splurge on my wife every now and then.”

  His use of the word “wife” made my heart do a cartwheel in my chest, followed by a worried tingle up my spine. No matter how much I was enjoying this fake marriage, it was a temporary situation. I couldn’t let myself imagine what it would be like if it were real. This was just a fun moment in time, but it wouldn’t last even if we wanted it to, which I doubted he did. Ryder was a glass-half-full type of guy, so he was going to make the most fun out of any situation, including being stuck fake married to me. But that didn’t mean his feelings went beyond friendship or attraction.

  Once we were seated, ordered our meals, and had a glass of wine, Ryder asked, “So, how’d things go at work today? Still feeling under siege?”

  I shrugged. “I was able to avoid everyone.”

  “What about Sinclair? Surely, she’s on your side,” he said, reaching over to take my hand.

  I looked down because there was a part of me that felt betrayed by her. “She says she is.”

  “You don’t believe her?”

  I wasn’t a person to talk about my feelings. What was the use? Talking let other people know about your inner demons, but it didn’t make them go away.

  But Ryder seemed sincere in his interest, so I said, “She probably believes it, but I’m good at my job. I don’t need help and I resent the two of them acting like they’re doing me a favor when what I really feel like is that I’m being pushed aside.”

  His eyes were soft and sympathetic. “And you’ve told them how you feel?”

  I nodded. “I told Sinclair, but she’s on his side. She probably just likes having Brooke around because now the mayor’s attention is on her instead of Sinclair.”

  “Sinclair is married now. Surely his interest stopped then,” Ryder said, lifting his wine glass to his lips.

  “I don’t know. I don’t feel like I know anything at work anymore. I hate it.” And I hated feeling so vulnerable. I didn’t like the feeling that things were going around me that I didn’t know about or didn’t have control over.

  He smiled. “Who’d have thought this marriage would be the stable, sane part of your life?”

  I laughed softly. “Who’d have thought.”

  It had been a long time since I’d been on a date. Longer still since I’d gone out and truly enjoyed myself. I was forced to recognize that Ryder might go through life in a relaxed, come-what-may way, but he was solid. He was perceptive and smart. He didn’t once ask me if I was overreacting or misinterpreting the mayor and Sinclair, which is what other people would have probably done. He accepted my feelings as they were, without judgment or giving me an opinion of whether I was right or wrong.

  While we waited for dessert, I excused myself to use the restroom. Once I’d done my business and washed my hands, I was touching up my lipstick when the door opened and a woman about my age walked in.

  She smiled at me through the mirror. “I noticed you’re eating dinner with Ryder Simms. Are you two together?”

  Immediately, I got suspicious. She was pretty with dark hair and green eyes. She looked polished and intelligent, as opposed to one of the groupies that often set their sights on Ryder.

  “Who are you?” I asked, working to sound polite.

  “Oh, I’m Erica Edmonds.” She extended her hand. “I met Ryder the other day while I was working on a story about how Salvation ousted Simon Stark’s plan to build a prison.”

  I was pissed that Ryder didn’t tell me about meeting this woman, even though I knew I had no right to. We weren’t really a couple. And he wasn’t accountable to me.

  Manners dictated I accept her hand, so I shook it and said, “His sister would be a better person to talk to.”

  “Yes. I heard they arranged a fake marriage to thwart Stark. Amazing what people will do to get what they want.”

  I nodded.

  “Speaking of what they want, are you and Ryder an item?”

  There’s no doubt that she’s interested in him. Of course, she was. Every woman was. Ryder had that je ne sais quoi that had women swooning. Even me, these days.

  I wanted to tell her to keep her paws off my man, except he wasn’t my man. Not really. Once the bet was over, we’d go our separate ways. But right now, he was my fake husband. While our fake marriage was on, he needed to be faithful. I didn’t want a fake marriage with real infidelity.

  “We’re friends, but we’re in the middle of a bet and celebrating the one-week anniversary of our arrangement.”

  “Another fake marriage? Those seem popular around here.”

  I could hear an undercurrent of amusement that annoyed me and yet, I’d be thinking anyone doing a fake marriage was nuts too.

  “We’re trying to prove a point to his sister and brother-in-law,” I said, knowing that didn’t make our arrangement any less crazy.

  “Which is?”

  “How hard can being fake married be?” I didn’t know why I was telling her all this. Perhaps it was all the wine.

  She laughed. “It wouldn’t be hard at all with Ryder. I’d sign up in an instant.”

  I gritted my teeth and clasped my hands together in front of me to keep from slapping her. Ryder was mine. At least for another three weeks.

  “I’ve got t
o get back to dinner,” I said.

  “Yes of course. Just one thing. How long is this bet and will he be available when it’s done?”

  I wanted to tell her no he wouldn’t be available. He was mine. But even if we continued a relationship when it was over, I knew it wouldn’t work in the long run. As well as we were getting along now, I knew eventually we’d clash. We were too different.

  “Three more weeks.” I walked out, mentally kicking myself for telling her that.

  When I got back to the table, Ryder looked at me with knitted brows. “Everything okay? I worried you’d fallen in.”

  I smirked, but inside was having a tug of war about whether I should tell him about meeting Erica. Had she hit on him when they met before? Had he been interested? I wanted to know and at the same time, I didn’t.

  “Seriously, you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course.” I sat and picked up my fork. “This cannoli looks delicious.” As I took a bite, I decided I’d keep my encounter with Erica under wraps. This marriage might be fake, but the bet was real and so for the next three weeks, Ryder was mine. After that, she could have him if he wanted her. The idea of them being together, made my stomach roil. So instead I thought about how he belonged to me for the next three weeks.

  15

  Ryder

  The evening was going better than anticipated. Trina was relaxed and pleasant. We bantered, but she didn’t have that edge of annoyance or disapproval that she sometimes had. The only little blip was when she came back from the bathroom. I could see her guard had gone up. I wondered what had happened. Did she see someone there? Or in a moment alone had she reconsidered this bet and decided she needed to keep her emotional distance?

  Being someone who could go with the flow, I didn’t push her on it and instead, once we finished our dessert, I paid the check and led her back out to the truck. Instead of heading back to my place, I drove out to a secluded area overlooking the river. The sky was clear, and from this spot, a million stars glowed.

  “What are we doing?” she asked.

  “We’re parking and then we’re going to make out. How does that sound?” I grinned, hoping she didn’t see this as too corny.

  One side of her mouth quirked up, even as her eyes narrowed. “We have two perfectly good beds at your place.”

  I was happy to hear she still planned to have sex. After her trip to the bathroom, I wasn’t sure how she was feeling about this turn in our relationship. “The ladies’ magazines say that to keep a marriage fresh, it’s important to mix things up.”

  “Are you saying we’re stale after a week?”

  “Not at all.” I turned on the radio and rolled down the windows. “Come on.” I opened my door.

  “Where are we going?”

  I walked over to her side of the truck and helped her out. “I’m trying to be romantic. Bear with me.”

  She eyed me suspiciously, but she was smiling, so I continued with my plan. I escorted her to the bed of the truck, putting down the back gate.

  “Hop up.” I helped her up and then joined her. I grabbed the large duffle bag stuffed with sleeping bags, a foam pad, and as many pillows as I could fit. I rolled the pad out, and topped it with the sleeping bags and put the pillows up against the cab of the truck. “Join me.”

  She blushed as she came to sit next to me. I put my arm around her and was thrilled when she rested her head on my shoulder. We had enough pillows to slightly recline allowing us to look up at the night sky.

  “Have you ever seen so many stars?” I asked, kissing her head.

  “I don’t know that I ever paid attention.”

  I suspected there was a lot in that statement. I’d known Trina for a long time. I knew her father didn’t offer her a lot of stability, so she probably didn’t have time to enjoy things like stars in the sky. I wasn’t a shrink, but I suspected that’s why she was so controlling. It had been a matter of survival for her as a kid, but it was unfortunate that she held such a tight grip now that it made her so wary and guarded, and inflexible.

  The truth was, I loved this crazy, uptight woman. I had for a long time. My goal now was to show her she was safe with me. To give me a chance when a bet wasn’t involved. I wasn’t sure how I’d do that, but I figured I still had three weeks.

  An old ballad came on the radio talking about love and I sang along.

  Trina looked up at me. “You have a great voice, Ryder.”

  I gazed down at her in surprise. “I always thought you hated my singing.”

  She gave me a sheepish smile. “Only when you sang my lyrics.”

  It was a reminder of how badly I’d hurt her. It had been unintentional, but it happened. “I’m sorry for hurting you.” I kissed her head again. “I didn’t mean to. In fact, I thought it would flatter and impress you. Boy did that backfire.”

  “Why would you want to flatter and impress me?”

  “Because I had the hots for you.” I grinned.

  She gave me a light slap on the chest. “Yeah, right. I remember you in high school. You didn’t have the hots for me.”

  “I did too.”

  She studied me as if she was looking for the truth. “Why didn't you say anything?”

  I shrugged. “You’re Sinclair’s friend. I wasn’t sure how that would go. And then, of course, you started hating my guts. Then again, maybe you always hated my guts.”

  She rested her head on my chest. “I didn’t. I used to think you were hot.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “I did.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, not sure I believed her.

  “Because you’re Sinclair’s brother.”

  I laughed. “It’s all Sinclair’s fault.”

  “Then you stole my poetry and used it for your own nefarious purposes and you became my mortal enemy.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Did she like me too, then? I had wondered a time or two if she had, but since she wasn’t overt in her interest like other girls were, I couldn’t be sure. The only thing I had been sure of was when she decided I was persona non grata.

  What really irked was the amount of time I’d lost. Had I known how she felt, I would have done something, Sinclair’s opinion be damned. Maybe if I had shown my hand, Trina and I’d be celebrating ten years of something real instead of one week of something fake.

  I turned to her, finishing singing the song, moving closer and closer to her until my lips were a whisper away from hers. Unable to hold back until the end of the song, I pressed my lips to hers. She responded, going pliant against me. It was amazing that this strong woman would give in to me. It was a reminder that I needed to be careful with her. I needed to cherish and care for this trust she’d given me. Right now, it was only her body she was willing to hand over, but if I played my cards right, by the time this fake marriage was over, she’d give me her heart.

  I wrapped my arms around her and scooted us down so I could lay against her. “Do you have a problem with making love in the open?”

  Her eyes flashed, but I wasn’t sure if it was excitement at having sex or my use of “making love” to describe what we were doing.

  “As long as I don’t get bit.”

  “Even by me?” I reached back and unzipped her dress, eager to see and touch her magnificent tits.

  She gave me a sexy smile. “Well, maybe by you would be all right.”

  I kissed her again, as we took our time getting undressed. The bed of my truck wasn’t the most comfortable and we were out in the wild open. At the same time, I felt like we were in an oasis and the only two people in the world. Maybe even the universe.

  When she was naked, I took my time running my hand down over her curves and to her pussy. I slipped a finger between her thighs.

  “My, how wet you are Mrs. Simms.”

  She flinched slightly at my calling her Mrs. Simms, which made my heart clench that she’d reject it. But I needed her to get used to my need to make her mine.

 
; I lifted my finger to my lips and sucked, tasting her sweet juices, and effectively drawing her attention back to sex.

  “Better than cannoli,” I said.

  Her cheeks and chest flushed and I knew she was as hot as I was.

  “Do you have fantasies?” I asked her. Trina was always wound up so tight, I wondered if she ever had flights of fancy. I knew she was responsive and eager in bed, but did she have dirty, nasty thoughts or desires?

  “I don’t know.” Her voice sounded self-conscious.

  “Do you want to know mine?” I gently rubbed my palm over her hard-distended nipple.

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  “There’s a bunch. They all star you.”

  Her gaze lifted to mine.

  “This is one. Out here in my truck. It’s left over from high school.”

  Her smile was so sweet, I couldn’t help but kiss her.

  “Some are dirty. You ready?”

  She nodded.

  “One involves fucking your tits.”

  Her breath hitched, and her eyes flashed with interest.

  “Your tits have starred in my fantasies since high school.”

  “You jerk off to me?” She sounded surprised by that.

  “All the time. Well, not lately because I have the real thing right now. What about you, Katrina.” I loved the quick intake of breath she had when I called her by her full name. “Do you think of me when you pleasure yourself?” It was a crazy question. For one, I wasn’t sure she was a woman who touched herself. Second, she’d hated me for so long, why would she fantasize about me when trying to get off? “Never mind—”

  “Sometimes.”

  My brows shot up. “Really. Even though you didn’t like me?”

  She looked down, her hand brushing over my nipple, making me forget my name for a moment. “My fantasy was to dominate you. Punish you for embarrassing me and then making you pleasure me.”

  “Fuck that’s hot.” I rolled on my back and pulled her over me. “Hurt me, baby.”

  Her smile was vulnerable and it made me feel like the luckiest man in the world that she’d allow that with me.

  “I don’t want to punish you anymore.”

 

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