Dragon's Fake Bride MatchMate (Dragon's MatchMate Agency Book 6)

by Maia Starr

  “I’ve got nothing else to do,” I said.

  “Great,” Angie said. “In that case, everything else, as we say, will be left to destiny. Good luck!” She hung up the phone, and I opened up the map app to find the Sunshine Bakery.

  Along the way, I went through the possible introductions I could have with her. I could be direct and professional (“Hello, Amelia, my name is Glenn Carter, it’s quite wonderful to meet you”) or offer something of a cheesy pick-up line (“Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?”) or perhaps overwhelm her with a compliment (“You are the most beautiful creature this world has ever seen.”), but none of them felt exactly right. The truth was that I didn’t know her. I barely knew the first thing about her, and though I felt a primal connection to her, I had learned to question such feelings when it came to love, as they invariably led to disappointment.

  I passed in front of a flower shop and walked inside to purchase a dozen red roses. That seemed a safe bet. Angie assured me that I didn’t need to do anything and that everything would just work. Amelia would be my dream wife as that was the package I purchased. Still, I wanted to make a good impression on her. I wanted her to like me for who I was, not just as a quick way to sacrifice a year of her life for a little bit of money.

  I walked through the door of the bakery and saw her behind the counter. I don’t think she saw me at first, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. If anything, she was more radiant in person, glowing like an angel. From across the room, I could tell she was comforting, the human equivalent of a mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows on a cold winter night.

  My heart raced as I walked to the back of the line, unsure of what to say. I had to remind myself that Angie said everything would be taken care of. I just had to order the raspberry scone. She should recognize me, and if she wasn’t interested, she would have said no already. This woman, in her green apron and ash-blonde hair, would be my wife. And it would happen very soon.

  I made it to the front, and I wasn’t sure if she recognized me. “One raspberry scone, please,” I said.

  She looked up from the register at me, holding her gaze a second longer than she might for a normal customer. I flashed my eyes yellow to show her who I was, as if the roses I carried weren’t enough.

  She nodded. “Take a seat over there,” she said, pointing to a table in the back. “I’ll join you in just a moment.”

  “These are for you,” I said, offering the roses.

  She smiled at me, and, at that instant, I could have died happy. To have known that my last act as a sentient being was making her smile. “Hold on to them for now,” she said. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  As I walked to the back, I heard her call to her supervisor that she was going to take her break.

  I sat down in the seat and watched as she grabbed a scone from behind the glass and removed her apron, then walked over to me, deep in concentration.

  “Your scone, sir,” she said, placing it on the table. Then, in dead-pan, as if reading from a script, she said, “My goodness. Are you Glenn Carter of the Carter clan?”

  “Yes, I am,” I said, somewhat confused.

  “Well, I think your family is very…uhh…rude.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way?”

  She paused, then started giggling. “I’m sorry, this is just too strange.”

  “It’s a very strange situation, I agree.”

  “No,” she said. “May I sit down.”

  “Certainly.”

  She sat down across from me, folding her hands over the table. “Please,” she said, gesturing towards the scone, “enjoy.”

  “Do you want half?”

  “Sure, sure.”

  I cut it in half and gave one of the pieces to her.

  “The agency,” she said, “wanted me to do a ‘meet-cute.’”

  “What’s that?”

  “Oh, you know, like in the movies. We start out hating each other and then we fall in love, but that just seems so silly to me.”

  I took a bite of the scone. “This is really good, by the way.”

  “Oh, thank you. It’s vegan, you know.”

  I took another bite. “Really?”

  “No milk or eggs.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  I finished my half.

  “I’m happy to play along,” she said, “but I don’t think I’m very good at this. I don’t think I’d be able to keep it up.”

  “How about we just be honest with each other? We’re in a very strange situation and we’re going to make the best of it.”

  “That’s what I’m saying!” she said.

  “Are you ready to be married to me?” I asked.

  She paused for a second, considering it. “No,” she said, “but I had a therapist way back when who told me something that stuck.”

  “What was that?”

  “You know how to tell when you’re ready to do something?”

  “How?”

  “When you’re already doing it. I’m usually a pretty indecisive person, and if I don’t force myself to do something, I’m just not going to do it. Sometimes it’s good to be a little impulsive.”

  “That’s true.”

  “I went skydiving for my birthday last year,” she said. “It’s not something I’d ever thought I’d do. I looked out the door, saw the ground maybe a mile or two below me, and didn’t think I was ready. So I jumped. And that’s when I was ready.” She took a tiny nibble out of her scone. “I suppose that may not sound like such a big deal for a dragon-shifter, but for me, it was a revelation.”

  “So what you’re saying is…”

  “What I’m saying is let’s go and get married as soon as we can. Let’s jump into this thing with both feet forward because we only have a year together and there’s no use wasting time in the getting to know each other stage.”

  I couldn’t agree more. “I feel like I already know you,” I said.

  “You don’t,” she said. “But I think I feel the same way.” She ate the rest of her scone. “I’m going to go back to work. It was wonderful meeting you, Glenn.”

  “You as well, Amelia.”

  “I look forward to marrying you.”

  I laughed. “Me, too.”

  “One more thing.” She pulled a small notebook out of her back pocket and wrote something down on the first page. She tore it off and gave it to me. “That’s my number. Text me yours.”

  “Of course,” I said. And, with that, she grabbed the flowers and returned to work. I finally found myself able to breathe again.

  Chapter Four

  Amelia

  I took the train home from work just like every other day, but this day was different because I had to keep pinching myself to remind myself that it was not, in fact, a dream. I was a dragon-shifter princess, and I had an escape from Xavier. Everything was falling into place.

  All that was left was to play the waiting game. Soon enough, Glenn and I would be married, and I could move in with him and out of Xavier’s apartment. While, previously, I had accepted my fate as a life-long partner of a man who would never appreciate me and whose presence filled me with dread, I now knew I had other options.

  I walked through the door, and Xavier instantly knew something was up.

  “What are you so happy about?” he asked.

  “I’m…” I thought for a second, hoping for a convincing lie. Hoping I had the words that would prevent an outburst of anger from him and that we could just enjoy a peaceful final few days together. “I’m just excited to see you.”

  He seemed skeptical. I ran over to him and gave him a hug, kissing the side of his neck, hiding the revulsion that I didn’t realize I’d been feeling for so long.

  When I pulled away, I saw that he was smiling and my line was working.

  “After a long day of work,” I said, “it’s so wonderful to come home to my big, strong man.”

  “You know, you don’t need to work there,” he said. “I make enough f
or the both of us.”

  While that was technically true, he controlled the money he made. I put some of the money I made into an account he didn’t know about. A rainy day fund in case I one day needed it. A day like today, when I was planning my escape.

  “In fact,” he said, “I’d rather you not go in there anymore. It’s too dangerous.”

  I laughed. “The Sunshine Bakery is too dangerous?”

  He huffed, and I could see he was starting to get angry. “You think that’s funny?” he said. “You know what I mean, Amelia. What if some guy comes in there and starts flirting with you?”

  I put my hand on his chest to calm him. “I’ll just tell him that I have a boyfriend.”

  I felt a drop of water fall on the top of my head from the vent again. There was no bucket in the kitchen to catch it, and I’m sure he didn’t call the super to follow up. I had to learn to pick my battles, though. The dripping vent, in the scheme of things, wasn’t a problem.

  “Men don’t care about that. Do you think that would stop him?”

  “I’ll tell him I have a boyfriend,” I said, “who could beat the shit out of him.”

  “I’m serious. I don’t want you going in to work there anymore. You’re better off here around the apartment.”

  Something was up. He was being more controlling than usual. I felt like the proverbial frog in the pot. It was getting hotter, and I needed to get out before it boiled me alive.

  Another drop of water fell on my head. I thought of those stories I heard growing up of Chinese water torture. Someone is held down and forced to endure a period drop of cold water on their head. At first, it’s not so bad, but after a while, it becomes maddening.

  Another drop fell. I took a deep breath.

  “Xavier,” I said as calmly but firmly as possible, “I like my job. I like having somewhere to go. You can’t just keep me locked up in the apartment all day.”

  “Is that what you tell your friends there? That your boyfriend keeps you locked up in the apartment and won’t let you leave? Make me into the bad guy?”

  “No, of course not.”

  It was getting very unstable. When conversations go this way, it’s important to follow protocol to a tee. First step: validate his emotions.

  “I see you’re worried about me,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

  He nodded.

  I continued, “And you don’t want anything bad to happen to me. Because you care about me.”

  Another droplet of water fell on my head, it fell down through my scalp down my cheek. I told myself to ignore it, but it just sat there on the side of my face, cold. I had to focus, though. I was in the middle of a potentially volatile conversation with Xavier, and I couldn’t let a small drop of water get in the way.

  Another one fell, and another one immediately after it.

  Focus on the task at hand, I told myself.

  My instinct was telling me to lie. Tell him that he was right and tell him that I wasn’t going to go to work anymore. At the same time, my moral compass was insisting that I only tell him the truth. Because I’m not a liar.

  And that meant standing up for myself, which he wouldn’t want to hear.

  “But if you care about me, you need to let me be myself, and that means letting me have a life of my own. Including going to work and—”

  “No! You’re lying. How do I know you’re even going to work during the day? How do I know you’re not cheating on me?”

  “I…” I started laughing. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Slut!” He slapped me across the face.

  I could tell he instantly regretted it. I couldn’t believe he’d done it. The physical pain wasn’t so bad, but the idea that he had crossed a threshold he’d never dared step across before sent a shock to my system. He’d never physically hurt me. He’d never laid his hands on me in a violent fashion.

  Until now.

  I shouldn’t have laughed at him. I was too stunned to speak.

  He saw the shock in my face and started crying, “Baby, I’m sorry.” He came toward me, and I flinched. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just got upset. I have anger issues, and I want to work on them. I’m willing to work on them.”

  He’d promised that before.

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Here,” he said, “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. Don’t worry about dinner. We’ll order a pizza. Whatever it takes, just, please forgive me.”

  Drip. Another droplet fell, releasing me from my stunned silence.

  “Okay,” I said and walked into the bedroom, closing the door, locking it, and then lying down on the bed. How could he do that? Take me from a place of pure elation and happiness down to a defeated lethargy so quickly? I knew I had to get out. I had to take what I could and get out.

  “Honey,” he said, rattling the door. “Could you open up?”

  There was no escaping him in here. I had to get out.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I slapped you. I didn’t mean to. Can we talk?”

  I got up and started throwing clothes into a bag. Just the bare essentials. I knew I’d forget something, but it didn’t matter. Anything could be replaced if necessary.

  More rattling on the door. It seemed to get more aggressive.

  “Amelia,” he said, “I’m serious. Let’s talk about this. You don’t want to do something you’ll regret later.”

  A few shirts, a couple of pairs of jeans, lots of underwear and socks, and the only clean bra I could find. I’ll end up having to buy more later anyway.

  The rattling turned to banging. “I’ll knock down this door if I have to, Amelia.”

  Toothbrush and contacts and my night glasses. I threw them all in. There wasn’t time. He was getting angry, and that door was coming down. I just didn’t want to be there when it happened.

  “Don’t make me count to three. Last warning, Amelia.”

  I climbed out the window and didn’t look back.

  My phone was atfour percent and I realized I’d forgotten my charger. I looked through my messages, hoping that Glenn had texted me already. Sure enough, he had.

  Hey, just wanted to make sure you had my number -- G

  I texted back frantically.

  Need somewhere to stay can you send ur address???

  Was he by his phone? Would he get it to me quickly? Would it be close enough that I could walk? I’d left my purse and wallet in the kitchen, and I’d be out on the street if he didn’t respond.

  The battery dropped to three percent.

  “Come on, come on.” I was saying it out loud as I was power-walking as fast as I could to get away from the apartment.

  Shit, I thought, looking at the phone. He can track me. We had shared our locations forever ago. I never used it, and I didn’t know for sure that he did, either. Maybe he forgot about it, but I’d rather not take the chance.

  I quickly did a search on how to disable the feature, and moved through the phone, following the instructions.

  And that brought the battery down to two percent.

  The message arrived.

  Sure you can stay with me.

  He then sent the address, which I copied into my Ride Share app, watching the battery fall to one percent.

  I called for a car, pressing the “Confirm” button right as my phone started shutting down.

  I gave myself five minutes to wait at the corner where I was standing before just giving up on it and continuing to run away from Xavier and the apartment from hell. At this point, I didn’t care if he burned all my stuff, so long as I didn’t need to see him or that apartment ever again.

  A small sedan pulled up next to me.

  “Amelia?” the driver asked.

  I nodded and got in the car.

  As he drove away and I took a few breaths, I realized I’d finally did it. I escaped Xavier. I’d gotten out of that rotten relationship, and it wasn’t even that hard.

  I wished I had done it sooner.

  It al
most seemed too easy. What I didn’t realize is that it had barely even started.

  Chapter Five

  Glenn

  It had just started raining when I got a call from the front desk.

  “Sir, a Ms. Amelia Davis is here to see you. Are you expecting her?”

  “Yes, send her up, please.”

  My apartment wasn’t ready for a guest. I hadn’t had any visitors in longer than I’d care to admit, and the guest bedroom had a light layer of dust covering most of it. I grabbed a duster from the closet and did what I could to take care of it and opened the window to remove the musty smell, but there was only so much one could accomplish with so little notice. I hoped she would understand.

  I ran a little bit of water in my hair and slicked it back, taking a quick look at myself in the mirror in the process. I knew I wasn’t at my best, and the butterflies in my stomach began to float up to my throat. What if she doesn’t like me? What if she backs out?

  Well, I told myself, then I’d just have to pick a different woman from the agency.

  That should have been a relief, but it wasn’t. I didn’t want a different woman. I wanted her. I knew it was crazy. I barely knew her, and she didn’t know me at all. For all I knew, we could be completely incompatible and after a week or two, we’d be on each other’s nerves and never want to see each other again.

  But my heart wasn’t ready to listen to sense like that. I wanted her, and no matter how childish the idea of love at first sight seemed to me, particularly here where I knew virtually nothing about her other than what she looked like and that she worked at the Sunshine Bakery, the logical part of my brain couldn’t manage to take hold.

  Emotions can be very powerful. Combine them with a little bit of hope and rationality doesn’t stand a chance.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Just a moment,” I called.

  I looked at myself in the mirror by the front door. You can do this, Glenn, I told myself. You didn’t just pick her, she picked you. The attraction is mutual.