My Big Fat Fake Engagement

by Landish, Lauren

  He comes around from behind his desk, directing me to the couch. I sit, and when he sits down beside me, I can feel his warmth, so close I could reach out and touch it. It would soothe the mess of today, I know it would.

  “So, how’s your day been?” he asks stiltedly, like he’s searching for conversation topics even though he asked to see me. “How was the presentation?”

  I can’t help the rueful sigh that passes my lips. “Nearly killed a woman today. Legit killed. But that’s a story for another time, if you don’t mind. Trying not to think about that right now, and I definitely don’t want to talk about it.” I go silent, doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t . . . think about it. Again. With a shake of my head, hoping to rattle all the self-flagellation free and be thankful that it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, I focus on something else.

  Namely, who is right in front of me, looking sexy as sin in a ruffled-hair, wrinkled-shirt, sleepy-eyed sort of way. It’s like he just woke up from a nap and is soft and fragile, words I would normally never use to describe him. “What’s on your mind?”

  Kaede gives me a worried look, and I swear he leans in a fraction of an inch. Either that or it just got hotter in here. “Okay, we can leave that for now if you want, but I’m definitely going to want that story. Most important part, though—are you okay?”

  I hold my hand up flat, wiggling it side to side. “Kinda. Maybe. Tell me what’s up and distract me from my shitshow of a day because it looks like you might’ve had one too.”

  Unbidden, my hand reaches up and pushes a lock of dark hair off his forehead where it threatened to tangle in his lashes. But the touch freezes both of us for a long moment where I don’t breathe or blink. He recovers first, pulling my hand down and pushing it back toward my own lap.

  “Court, so what do you know about the investor meeting Ross and I had?”

  I get the feeling that sentence—the way he said my name—began one place and ended somewhere very different. “No details. You and Ross have been bragging about it for weeks, though.” I smile, trying to get us back to the normalcy we had before I went and touched him. We always have common ground in giving Ross a hard time.

  But Kaede doesn’t smile. “Did it go well?” Still no response. “Oh, no, did it fall through? You two will be okay without it, right? I know how financially careful you and Ross both are.”

  Kaede laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Rather, it’s more of a gallows, mirthless laugh. He runs his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands, and I’m a witness to how his hair got that sexy, messy look. “No, it didn’t fall through, exactly, but it sure as fuck didn’t go according to plan.”

  “Definitely seems to be the day for plans going awry. Tell me what happened.”

  He scrubs his hands over his face, the five o’clock shadow making a scraping sound against his palms. Under his breath, he mutters, “How in the fuck? Just get it over with. Out with it, McWarren.”

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s nervous. But he is Kaede ‘K-Dawg’ McWarren, fighter of monsters, eater of obstacles, and conqueror of challenges. He’s the utmost example of calm, cool, and collected . . . always.

  Except right now.

  Kaede clears his throat and looks at the ceiling, not me. In soft, sexy baritones, he tells me about the meeting he and Ross had at Jeffrey Sanders's estate and the undercover researcher who took a liking to him.

  “That’s good, though. What’s not to like?” I say, teasing out what’s upset him so much.

  He cuts his eyes to me, spelling it out. “Sanders implied strongly that he’d like to keep the investment ‘in the family’ with his daughter-spy, so to speak.”

  “Oh, shit! That’s seriously fucked up!” My jaw drops and my blood pressure spikes about fifty points, ready to go to battle for Kaede. Ross too, but mostly Kaede because that’s some serious Middle Ages marry my daughter crap.

  “There’s more. The researcher? It’s Missy.” He lets that set in the air like a silent fart, waiting for me to smell it.

  “Wait . . . that Missy? She’s . . . wow.” I haven’t seen her much, but even I’ve heard guys talking about her. It’s hard not to when she’s walking around like a half-naked glamazon, leaving thirsty ass men following her around like puppies on a leash. “She’s his daughter?”

  “Yeah, Jeffrey tried to hook us up.”

  “Oh,” I say flatly, more than a little jealous. Is this where Kaede asks me for relationship advice or something? “Well, if you need the name of a place to take her, I’d say—”

  “I needed an out,” Kaede blurts out, his face blushing a little as he looks at me. There’s a new intensity in his eyes now.

  I nod, my heart doing a little stutter step in my chest. “Rock and hard place, got it. What miracle did you work?”

  He’s good at the business game and probably came up with something that would’ve taken me days to piece together. And honestly, I’m so relieved to hear that he wanted out of a date-slash-basically arranged marriage with Missy that my inner sex-starved self is tap dancing a happy jig.

  “You.”

  My brows furrow. “Me? What do you mean, me?”

  “It means that I told them I was seeing someone, but it wasn’t enough. So I said I was engaged, and they asked to whom.”

  His eyes implore me to understand, and though I’m usually pretty quick on the uptake, it takes me an impossibly long time to understand what he’s saying. “Me?” I laugh like there’s no way that’s what he possibly means. “What?”

  Out of roughly three billion women in the world, when push came to shove and he had to name a fiancée, my name is what popped into his mind. Does that mean something? Or am I making a mountain of wishes out of a molehill of convenience?

  “I felt like he’d backed me into a corner,” Kaede explains sheepishly. “I could read between the lines. Missy gave a glowing report to her ‘Daddy’ because she wants me, and she wants to be able to take control of the gym. I . . . brain farted.”

  “You have never had a brain fart in your life. You’re as methodical and analytical as I am, and you know it.”

  “Courtney, I’m sorry to put this on you,” Kaede says quickly, “but I got stuck in some shit. I don’t think Sanders is going to back out if One Life makes him money, but if he finds out I was lying before we get off the ground . . . I don’t know, do you mind playing along? It’d probably just be a few dinners.”

  “Just a few dinners?” I parrot. Inside, my brain and some significantly more southern parts are singing . . . Dinner with Kaede, dinner with Kaede!

  Kaede shrugs. “And the gym, if Missy is around,” he admits slowly.

  “Or anyone else too.” At the jump of his eyebrows, I explain, “If this Sanders guy is sending in an undercover researcher, he’s ahead of you already and you’re playing catch-up. Maybe Missy was the only one, but what if she’s not? Who’s to say he doesn’t have people driving by your house? Or checking up on you and Ross periodically?”

  “Fuck!” he growls. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Kaede stands up, stalking across the room to punch the speed bag in the corner. It slams back against the wall before rebounding.

  He looks out the windows that overlook the training floor full of members who probably seem like family to him. But there’s an entirely new ominous pall that settles over his face like a fog.

  “I’m sorry to spring this on you, Court, but please . . . help me.”

  The desperate plea is my undoing, melting every defense I have against this man, breaking the ice I keep my own hopes and dreams locked behind and letting them float to the surface. This is such an awful idea and it’s going to hurt so much to get the tiniest taste of what I want without getting everything. But for him, I’ll do it.

  “Okay.” Two tiny syllables that seal my fate, his fate. Our fate?

  “What?” he whispers. And then he swoops in and grabs me off the couch, picking me up and spinning me around. “Are you serious?” He’s getting loud
er, his face going from morose to brilliant in an instant. All because of me.

  Well, and business. But I’m taking the win for the moment, memorizing the joyful look in his eyes, the wide smile, and the feel of his body pressed to mine.

  He sets me down, our chests touching, and he cups my face in his large hands. He looks at me in shock, saying earnestly, “I swear, I’ll be a gentleman. We’ll do the dinners and play the part here for a while till Missy finds another sucker or Jeffrey is making so much money, he doesn’t care about being ‘in the family’. Ross is my best friend, and I swear I’ll be bro-code all the way. I won’t do him wrong, or you, either.”

  Fuck. Nothing like basically being called ‘the little sister’ to turn the water hose on my rising arousal.

  “No worries, Kaede. I’ve got you. We can do this.”

  I mean the fake engagement, I swear I do. I don’t mean each other, nope . . . not at all. Even though this is going to be the worst big, fat, fake disaster.

  He falls back to the couch, relief visible in every relaxed muscle in his body now. “Fuck, Court. Thank you so much.”

  I sit down beside him, testing the waters and getting the slightest bit closer because if we’re going to sell this, we have to look comfortable being cozy. That’s going to take some practice given that my heart rate has skyrocketed just from being close enough to feel each of the places our skin touches.

  “That is such a relief,” he sighs out. “You wanna tell me about your day now? It can’t be nearly as crazy as that.” He gives me the small smirk that drives me wild. It’s the one that says he knows how sexy he is and knows that you know it too.

  He’s right. My day was craptastic, but it does seem slightly less crazy now, so I dive in and tell him about almost killing Ms. Crabtree with flowers during my first big presentation.

  By the end of it, he’s laughing. Not at the horrible thing that happened to Ms. Crabtree but at my telling of the story and how my inner monologue was going off about the whole thing.

  “You’ll fix it. You’re the brains of the family and I have the utmost faith in you.”

  The compliment takes me by surprise, not because he thinks I’m smart. I am, and everyone knows that, me included. But there’s a softness, a sweetness as he says he has faith in me. That’s what hits me hard, right in the feels like a John Legend song.

  “Thank you.” I know my cheeks are turning pink because I can feel the heat settling there . . . and lower, much lower. “Are you heading home now?” I realize a moment after the words pass my lips how that sounds and my eyes widen.

  I think I see heat in his eyes too, but that can’t be right. It must be a reflection of my own.

  “No, I think I’m going to hang around here for a bit. I want to look over our membership files a bit.”

  “Smart man. Scout for the sleeper agents.” I tap my nose.

  His nod is resigned. “Thanks again, Court.”

  I stand up and we do this weird dance where I wave and he tries to hug me. I switch for the hug and he switches for the wave. In the end, we both laugh awkwardly and hug.

  It feels . . . good.

  “We’ll make it work. I’ve got you.”

  But as I walk out of his office and out to my car, I purposefully skip the smoothie bar and hit the donut shop. Who gives a fuck what sugar and fried dough will do to my ass? Today, I need all the comfort that sweet yumminess can offer.

  Chapter 8

  Kaede

  The sun shines through the windows behind us, dappled by the shades pulled down to keep us from being blinded by the bright morning light. But it provides a hell of a background as I take a seat in Ross’s office, a cup of bulletproof coffee in my hand. It’s an acquired taste, blending my preferred dark roast with local butter and MCT oil, but it’s replacing my usual egg white omelet today and providing a pick-me-up I desperately need after being here till after midnight last night.

  “Missed you this morning for walkarounds,” I note, taking a sip. I cringe slightly. The coffee’s hotter than I realized. Blowing on the surface before I try that again, I ask, “You okay?”

  “Yeah, Violet didn’t feel well this morning so I stayed with her.” He glances at his phone with a small smile, and I feel pretty sure that Ross skipped out on our walkthrough to give Violet a ‘Vitamin D injection’. “Forgot to text you, sorry.”

  Is he seriously running out after meetings and skipping out on work for pussy? Nothing happened this morning, and I’m quite capable of doing the walkthrough myself, but it’s the point of the matter.

  “No problem, we can do the midday one together. Target the lunch crowd with our handsome mugs.” I playfully slap my cheek, softening the demand that he show up for one of the walkthroughs today. We’re equals, especially in the gym now, but I still haven’t adjusted to bossing him around. Everyone else, no problem. Ross, my best friend, business partner, and brother from another mother? Not so much. It’s also a taste I’m acquiring.

  “Deal.” Ross agrees to the plan easily, and internally, I give myself a pat on the back. “Guessing it was all good or you would’ve led with that?” I nod, and he jumps track. “So let’s talk about the elephant in the room, this crazy idea with Courtney. And if you tell her I called her an elephant, I will kill you. Slowly.” His easy, sunny grin says he doesn’t predict that to be a problem. I hope he still sees it that way in a few minutes.

  He leans back in his chair, giving me the floor to present how I plan to handle this mess. He sips at a green smoothie, his own recipe that was his first addition to the smoothie bar’s menu. He makes a noise deep in his throat, a combination hum and groan that says ‘delicious’. I disagree, having tried his concoction. It’s worse than my bulletproof coffee, tasting like sweet grass, and I am not a cow. I eat cows.

  “I handled it.”

  “Duh, what are we going to do? Details, man.”

  “She’s on board. Talked to her last night, actually.” I’m still amazed she went along with this, but I’m not going to tell Ross that. Nope, I’m going to play it chill . . . no big deal, nothing to see here, just a convenient business arrangement to secure a deal, that’s all and nothing more.

  Ross doesn’t seem to catch the ‘no big deal’ vibe, though, because green smoothie spews out of his mouth as he chokes in shock. Coughing and wiping green goo that looks like leprechaun cum from his chin, he sputters, “What the fuck?”

  “What? She agreed to pretend to be my fiancée like we talked about.”

  His face is turning three shades of red, and with the glob of green he missed, he’s looking like Christmas instead of St. Patty’s Day now. Still not going to tell him that. Especially when he yells, “That is not what we talked about! We agreed that you were going to figure out a way to ditch the whole crazy idea! Not get my sister involved.”

  He glares at me, anger burning in his eyes, and I realize something vital.

  Ross and I are brothers, through and through. If I ever needed him for anything, he’d be the first to stand up for me. Your Honor, Kaede couldn’t have committed this felony. He was with me the whole time. Yeah, not that I would ever ask him to or even need him to, but he’d go so far as to lie for me and provide an alibi. We’re that kind of tight.

  That doesn’t mean he thinks I’m good enough for his sister, though.

  He’s money, and it shows more than he realizes. It shows in the choices he makes, like the fact that he’s got three pairs of Nike Romaleos for work, at two hundred dollars a pop, just because he wanted different colors to choose from. As if black, gray, or platinum make any difference in your lift. You don’t need to be a millionaire for that, but it’s a completely normal thing for him because of who he is and how he grew up.

  Me? I’ve had the same pair of Chuck Taylors for a couple of years. Not that I can’t afford to buy a new pair, but the ones I have are in good shape, so why would I buy another? It’s a different mindset because I’ve never had it like Ross has.

  The fact is, the o
nly reason Ross and I ever met is because I got a scholarship to the fancy private school he attended. Even then, we wouldn’t have been friends if not for my skills on the field.

  That was my way in with that crowd. I wasn’t on their level, not really, but they let me pass through the gates because I could catch a ball and run fast. As long as I kept that up, I was accepted.

  Ross never judged me for my lack of money, to his credit. He would come over to my place on the other side of town any time I invited him, and we connected on more levels than just football.

  But his reaction tells the truth. As close as we are, I’m not one of ‘them’. I’m not good enough for his sister.

  My only saving grace is that I’m not trying to leap-frog into Courtney’s world for real. She’s doing me a solid—hell, doing Ross a solid too—by pretending to be with me.

  I force myself to take another sip of coffee, though it tastes bitter on my tongue now with the rising bile in my gut. Blanking my face, I challenge Ross, not something I do often, but when push comes to shove, I absolutely can.

  “Look, Courtney and I talked about a few dinners and acting like a couple at the gym. She knows what’s up, and she’s fine with it. There’s no other way, and you know that because I’m sure your mind has been playing out scenarios just like mine has.”

  Ross glances at his phone again—again!—and I realize that maybe he hasn’t spent quite as much time obsessing about this as I have. What is going on with him and Violet, anyway? Doesn’t matter. Just like the old days, he tossed it up, the ball’s in my hands . . . and I’ll just have to drag us across the goal line if I have to.

  “Even if you haven’t, you know that I have studied and analyzed this from every possible angle. There’s no other way that lets us out of this clean. Trust me. Hell, if you don’t, trust Courtney. She’s the most trustworthy person either of us knows!”

  He sighs, collapsing back in his chair so hard it squeaks. “Fake shit doesn’t work. It always comes out, and I’m speaking from experience here.”