Single Dad’s Fake Fiancée: A Cowboy Romance

by King, Imani

  “Is this a lecture?” she sings. “Are you trying to lecture me? That’s so cute.”

  “I don’t know if ‘cute’ is the word I would use,” a voice behind us states.

  The girls whip around, shrieking as if a ghost had just appeared.

  “P-Priscilla Easterbrook!” Samantha stuttered. “Oh my…we didn’t realize you were there!”

  Priscilla Easterbrook raises a brow. “Given what I just saw, that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “We were just playing.” Samantha looks over her shoulder, back down at me, giving me a tight, desperate smile. “Right, Tachell?”

  I say nothing. Throughout my younger life, bullies always tried to get me to absolve them of any blame when they were caught. I refused to do that for them. However, I also wouldn’t revel in their failure. Samantha made their bed and she could lie in it. I go back to searching for the engagement ring.

  “You are my guests,” Priscilla Easterbrook tells them. “I invited you here to celebrate my grandchild. However, I can tell from your behavior that you carry no celebratory feelings in your heart, nor do you have any desire to be a gracious and respectful guest. So, I am going to ask you to leave. Now.”

  “No—we just—we were just—”

  Priscilla raises her hand, dismissing them. “Good day.”

  The girls are smart enough to realize they shouldn’t be told a third time. They take off down the hall without saying another word, leaving me alone with Priscilla Easterbrook.

  Oh shit, I think. I need to find that ring before she does!

  Priscilla Easterbrook crouches on the floor beside me. “Let me help you.”

  “No, that isn’t necessary—I mean, thank you, but—”

  “It is necessary,” Priscilla Easterbrook corrects. “You are my guest, and I allowed you to be abused in my home.”

  “They were being childish,” I tell her. Where is that damn ring!??!?

  “Even so, it should never have happened, and I am sorry.” She hands me my purse, then pauses. “Your toiletries have already been gathered. Are you looking for something else?”

  “Umm…”

  “Something like this?” she asks, holding out her hand.

  I glance over and see the ring, burning bright like a diamond encrusted secret.

  Oh shit.

  “My son gave this to you, didn’t he?” Priscilla Easterbrook continues.

  Well, I was caught, but I wasn’t gonna back down. “Yes, he did.”

  She looks at me another long moment. “You know, I owe you another apology. I allowed my own fears and prejudices to cloud my judgment when we first met, and because of this, I never gave you a chance to show me your true character.” She takes my hand and places the engagement ring in it. “My son has committed many indiscretions, but he has good judgment and a good heart. I should trust him more.”

  We both stand. She is completely poised, but I’m surprised to find I’m shaking. I put on my purse and open it, ready to stuff the ring back in.

  “What are you doing?” Priscilla Easterbrook asks.

  “I’m just, putting it away until after—”

  “Don’t.”

  I look up at her. “Don’t?”

  “Are you ashamed of my son’s love for you?” she asks.

  “Well, no—”

  “And are you ashamed of your love for him?” she interrupts.

  “Of course not—”

  “Then you wear that ring with pride,” she instructs me.

  I glance down the hall, thinking of all those women. “It’s going to cause quite a stir.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But their petty opinions have no bearing on your love,” she smiles at me, eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. “So wear it, and if anyone has a problem with it, to hell with them.”

  Chapter 45

  It was a big step.

  Yeah, I know. Preston and I were getting married in a few months (it’s amazing how fast things started to move once Priscilla Easterbrook was on board). Moving in together shouldn’t make me feel this anxious, especially considering all the other things that would soon be happening, but it did.

  It felt really big.

  My mom, Kate and I unpack. Sondra was tied up at the gallery, but promised to be here in a little bit. Reggie and Preston carry up boxes from downstairs. Preston carries out this task cheerily. Reggie glares at each box like they contain the bones of a sex demon Preston and I are going to assemble and summon in some sort of crazy orgiastic dark magic ceremony.

  Still, he won’t let any of the women touch a thing. It’s just not in his nature to make a woman do a job when an able-bodied man is nearby.

  “Why the hell are we even here, then?” my mom asks.

  Reggie just grunts in response and keeps carrying.

  I wonder, again, why we didn’t just hire someone to do all of this. Reggie and Preston were completely against it. “I can carry up all the boxes,” Preston had told me. Then, Reggie had hissed, “I can carry up more boxes than he can!”

  Oh boy, men were dumb. Especially men who wanted to prove their man powers.

  Still, Preston sure made a pretty picture. All this manual labor looked good on him. His powerful muscles were flexing with all this ox moving, and his casual clothes made him look approachable. Kind of like he was a freakishly hot delivery boy instead of the man who owned the building…

  “Ahem.”

  I look over at my brother, who looks like he knew exactly what kind of thoughts I was just having.

  Shit! I probably shouldn’t mentally undress my fiance in front of my brother. That was just going to cause problems, but it was also going to be hard when you had a fiance as hot as Preston.

  “I think you ladies should go do something while Preston and I finish bringing up the boxes,” he says. “Then, Preston and I can go out for a beer while you ladies organize.”

  Wow. Subtle Reggie.

  “Hey, I could go for a chai!” Kate pipes in.

  My mother sits on the black leather couch. “I’ll stay here and fold up some of your clothes, sweetie.”

  “What the hell, mom! You can’t do all this work!”

  She scowls and puts her hands on her hips. “I am your mother. I can do whatever I want. I want to make sure you’re settled in. Bring me a scone or something, and a coffee. I’ll take a break if I need to, but I want to make sure my little girl is doing alright.”

  Okay. I guess I can let her. “Make sure she doesn’t do too much,” I whisper to my brother.

  He nods. “I will.”

  “And stop having this man competition with Preston with the boxes. It’s weird.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I roll my eyes. “Look, you’re my brother. I love you. But this thing with Preston has got to stop.”

  “He’s my best friend. He knew you were off limits.” He glares at Preston’s back. “At least he’s making it right.”

  Oh whatever! Like I would marry a man just because he got me pregnant! “Who I marry and why is none of your business!”

  “Will you two stop fighting?” mom yells. “I didn’t raise you to be this way.”

  We sigh, stepping away from each other.

  “That’s better. Now, Tachell, go get me a drink. And Reggie, I want to see more boxes. We have a lot to do today.”

  “Alright mom!” I call. That woman really knows how to get people busy and focused on what they should be doing. I decide to bring her something nice. Maybe a pizza?

  ***

  Once we’re in Kate’s car, I text Sondra about a pizza joint. Apparently I used to go to Carl’s Pizza all the time. After getting directions, Kate and I are off.

  Carl’s is in a brick building conveniently located near a coffee shop. Kate calls coffee, which is fine by me. I’m excited to visit a place I used to like.

  I walk through the door and am immediately surrounded by the scent of yummy pizza. In fact, I enjoy it so much that it takes me a mom
ent to take in my surroundings. With a tile floor and cozy couches, the place is the perfect blend of sexy and comfortable. The line is huge, too, which is always a good sign. Plus, it gives me a little time to check out the cute guys working behind the counter.

  This place has an unconventional dress code: tight black shirts that show off your guns, long hair (dreads, messy bun, or clipped back with bobby pins), and tight jeans that show off their nice asses. They also all have tattoos. A cute Asian guy with full sleeves throws pizza dough in the air and catches it in his fists, his dark silhouette backlit by the wood oven. Then, our eyes lock.

  “Hey,” he says with an easy smile. “Like what you see?”

  “You’ve got some skills,” I admit.

  “That’s what I can do in the kitchen. You should see what I can do in the bedroom.”

  My cheeks flare up. Damn, this guy doesn’t waste time!

  “It’s been a while. I’ve missed you, Tachell,” he says softly.

  My heart skips a beat. I know this guy? Wait, how do I know this guy? Have I…? Did we…?

  “So,” I begin slowly, “I actually have amnesia.”

  He shakes his head. “So the rumors are true?”

  “Depends on the rumor, but yeah, that one is.”

  He grins. “Well, I’m glad. You haven’t been here in a long time. I was beginning to think you were dodging me.”

  Oh man. I had a feeling things were going to get awkward. “Um…are we—I mean, were we—seeing each other?”

  “No, but not for my lack of trying.” He grins big enough for his dimples to show up. It’s adorable, especially with the flour caking his hands and arms, making the tattoos beneath look like they’ve been sprinkled in snow.

  “Really?” I ask. I said no to those dimples? Why?

  “Yeah. You’re a loyal girl. And, unfortunately, at that time you were loyal to an asshole.”

  Let me guess. “Preston?”

  “No, Clarence.”

  Clarence? Who the hell was Clarence?

  “That guy deserved what he got,” sexy tattooed pizza man says. “He has no right to be anywhere near you after what he did, that cheating bastard.”

  So this Clarence person cheated on me? Well, I’m glad to be rid of him then. Sometimes, not remembering something is a blessing.

  “We’re just glad to have you back,” sexy tattooed pizza man continues. “I like serving you a lot more than I like serving him.” His grin deepens. “And…since you’re free, I think it’s time I finally got that date.”

  “Date?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  Oh dear. “I’m actually getting married…”

  “But I thought you had amnesia?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Oh shit, was that stupid BILLIONAIRE’S RELUCTANT PREGNANT BRIDE article really true?”

  I shut my eyes. I have a feeling that damn article is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. “Yes. It’s true. Well, parts of it anyway.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “Is he an old guy you’re marrying for money?”

  “I can’t believe you’d ask me that!” I exclaim, shocked.

  “Does that mean it’s true?”

  “It means I’m suddenly wondering about your morals. But to be honest, he’s young and sexy and I’m in love with him.”

  Sexy tattooed pizza man shakes his head. “Well, he’s a lucky guy to have such a loyal and lovely lady.”

  I roll my eyes. “Keep your eyes on the pizza dough.”

  “Damn. Shot down again.”

  I laugh.

  “Hey,” he tells me. “Give me your oder now. I’ll put it on Clarence’s tab.”

  “Is that legal?”

  “No. Hopefully he’ll be pissed enough to stop coming in.” He grins. “So, is it the usual?”

  “I don’t remember the usual.”

  “Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to be pleasantly surprised?”

  I lick my lips. “Hey, I like the sound of that. Three usuals, please.”

  He winks. “Coming right up.”

  I get out of line and take my seat by one of the aqua couches by the door. Kate should be getting here soon. I stare absently out the window. It’s such a bright day. I reflect on how blessed I’ve been. My family is so supportive—both of them. I got a new sister and mother in addition to a new love. The flood of memories that have been rushing back sometimes scare me, but I’m happy for that too. I can’t wait to start the next chapter of my life.

  “Tachell?”

  I look to my side to find a beautiful man with mocha colored skin and a shaved head. His chocolate brown eyes grow glassy as he takes me in.

  Since I came here so often, it isn’t surprising that someone would recognize me. I was going to have to get used to this as I got out more.

  “Hi,” I say warmly.

  He gulps, taking a seat next to me. “It’s true, isn’t it? You don’t remember anything.”

  “Sorry, I don’t. Who are you?”

  “Your mother has been screening your calls. Your brother has been determining who it’s alright for you to see and who you shouldn’t see. They have been keeping us apart.”

  Oookay. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to start at the beginning. Who are you?”

  “Clarence,” he whispers.

  Oh. “So you cheated on me.”

  “I am so sorry, baby,” he whispers, going in for a hug. I scoot down to the end of the couch, putting up my hand. Thankfully, he takes the hit and stays on his side.

  “Tachell,” he croons, “It wasn’t my fault. I just didn’t feel like we had what we used to have. You were so distant, so focused on your work. I missed you. I only went to her because I loved you so much.”

  Alright. This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve never heard in my life. I mean, maybe I had before I got amnesia, but I sure as shit hope that’s not the case because this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in my life.

  I cheated on you because I loved you so much? Really? REALLY!?!?!?!?

  Did I mention that this was the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in my life? Because, guess what. It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in my life!

  If the pizza here didn’t smell so damn good, I woulda lost my appetite.

  “Look, I can explain—”

  I stand. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “Tachell—”

  “No, really, I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t feel anything for you, okay? I don’t know what we had before because I don’t remember, and thank God I don’t, because it makes me sick to think that you might have used a line like that on me in the past and that it might have worked.”

  “Don’t be stubborn, baby.”

  “Yeah. I’m stubborn. Stubborn enough to not take back a cheating, lying, sack of shit. Good day, sir.” I cross my arms over my chest.

  Just then, tattooed sexy pizza man behind the counter shows up, a rag over his shoulder, frowning, meaning business. “This guy bothering you, Tachell?”

  “Hey, I’m a customer,” Clarence says.

  “Yeah,” tattooed sexy pizza man replies, “And I don’t like it when people bug my other customers. You got ten seconds before I throw your ass out of here.”

  “Tachell,” Clarence cries desperately.

  “Nine,” Asian dude says.

  “I know you’re with him! Preston Easterbrook,” he sneers. “You don’t know what you’re getting into! You don’t remember what that man did to you! Did to us!”

  I know I shouldn’t ask. I know it’s stupid. But I have this nagging feeling that this guy might know something that I haven’t been told yet. Preston keeps saying he’s so bad, and I just don’t see it. Despite myself, I ask. “What do you mean? What did he do?”

  “He kicked you out of your own apartment!” he yells. “He has been trying to control you your entire life, but you just don’t see it. I know you don’t like being restricted, Tachell. I know you deserve better
than me, but shit, you deserve better than him too!”

  Just when I’m about to tell him to stuff it, I remember.

  Oh God.

  He’s right.

  Not about me taking him back. Clarence can go to hell.

  But he’s right about Preston Easterbrook.

  The man is a manipulative asshole. He’s been trying to control me for years.

  And once, he’d succeeded.

  Chapter 46

  Tachell - Memory

  It’s so hot outside it’s like I’m walking through chicken noodle soup. My hair is a mess. Those hours I spent a few days ago at the salon? Oh, big waste. I’m tempted to shave my head. Maybe wear a scarf. I think I could pull it off.

  I wonder if Clarence would be into it. But, no. He likes it when I take the time to make my hair look nice. In fact, if I didn’t straighten it, he complained. Men could be so difficult to deal with. But I shouldn’t complain. Things weren’t perfect between us, but they were nice. And, most importantly, I trusted him.

  I walk up to the small apartment we share. It’s been difficult. I’ve been working two jobs—one a as a waitress, one doing data entry for a stock brokerage firm—and on top of that, trying to find to time to paint. I’ve been painting a lot at home, which makes it hard for Clarence. He’s been job hunting and he still hasn’t found anything. When I’m painting at home, he complains because he says it takes up too much of my free time. Sometimes, he even says I should just give it up, settle down, get a nice office job somewhere. I could be a good secretary. It would be easy. Less stressful. I’d have more time to spend with him.

  I know he means well, but painting was my dream and I wasn’t going to give it up. The fact that he kept trying to get me to give it up was one of the few strains in our relationship.

  Well, actually there were a few others.

  Like the fact that he felt like dishwashing was demeaning to him, so he wouldn’t take the job, but I had been through all that and was now a waitress. Things felt uneven sometimes. But I loved him, and I know that he loved me. We were going to work it out.

  I walk up to the glass doors of my apartment and try to buzz myself in.