The Pretend Husband: Romance In the City, Book 1

by Declan Rhodes

  While I rubbed another towel through my hair and stared into the mirror, I heard Liam bounding up the staircase. He was taking it two steps at a time, and he was home early from work. He was excited, and I was eager to hear the news.

  Liam burst into the bathroom and said, “I hope you don’t mind. I just couldn’t hold the news. I need to tell you right away. I’m nervous as hell, and I’m pissed off at my boss.”

  I turned and pulled the hair towel down to my chest. Liam set his jaw, and he pulled his lips back in a sneer. I wondered if he drove all the way home that way. He was angry, but he didn’t direct it at me. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss him to take all the negative emotion away.

  Instead, I said, “I’m not bothered at all, but I’m curious about your big news. I guess you wouldn’t be upset if you got a promotion?”

  “Ah, no, but that would be nice.” He paused, and I wanted to laugh when he tried to stare at my naked chest surreptitiously. He swallowed hard and said, “Maybe I shouldn’t be quite so upset. I can see it as a compliment, but I don’t know how to handle it.”

  I placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “Take a deep breath, Liam. Then tell me all about it.”

  He leaned against the bathroom counter. “Well, you know about the donor at work that I talk about all the time.”

  I tossed the towel over the rack and answered, “Yes. Did the donor finally make a decision?”

  “He did, but he wants a significant portion of the money to go toward the outsider art that I curate.”

  “Well, congratulations! That’s outstanding news!”

  “It is, but it comes with a catch.”

  “Catch?”

  “He wants to have dinner with me. My boss told him that I would be happy to have dinner. I was so flustered that I didn’t know what to say. I think I nodded, and then I left his office in a hurry. I have nothing in common with this guy and his opinion of art. At least I don’t think so. He hates people like me. He’s even published slash and burn editorials in the newspaper.”

  I stared at Liam and saw his right hand shaking visibly. I offered a hug and folded him into my arms against my bare chest. He was tense, and I rubbed his back. Liam nestled his face into my neck. The intimacy and connection felt good. It felt right.

  Liam said, “Ah, thank you, Alex. I appreciate it. If only you could be at the dinner, too. Maybe then it wouldn’t be so bad. I wouldn’t feel quite so much like I had a target on my forehead.”

  “Why couldn’t I be there? You could suggest bringing along a friend. I could read up on outsider art and speak with some level of reasonable intelligence. That would put my art history background to work.”

  Liam whispered against my neck causing the little hairs to stand on end. He said, “I don’t know if that would work. He would want to know about your credentials, and we would have to make up an academic career for you.”

  The next words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I said, “Or we could pretend to be a couple.”

  He still had his face buried in my neck when he said, “Thanks for the suggestion, but I’m not sure this is the kind of dinner for bringing along a boyfriend. I think I just need to suck it up on my own.”

  “A husband?”

  Liam pulled his face away from my neck and stared into my eyes when he asked, “A what?”

  The word sounded good, so I repeated it. I said, “A husband. We could pretend I’m your husband. If he’s married, I’m sure that he’s bringing his wife.”

  Liam’s forehead wrinkled, but I could see his eyes sparkle when he asked, “Are you serious?”

  I nodded slowly and smiled.

  7

  Liam

  It was an extraordinarily crazy idea, but I latched onto it out of desperation. I knew that the reasoning I used to justify pretending to be Alex’s husband was all ridiculous and self-serving. I reasoned that I didn’t need to tell any of my colleagues about the imaginary marriage. Only Hubert Linton, the big donor, and his wife would know. I was such a small cog in the overall machinery of the museum that he would have no reason to talk about me with others, and my husband would be unimportant, too. That was the story I was telling myself to avoid having to face the evening alone. I knew the story was full of holes, but I ignored them.

  I couldn’t get the image of Alex in a black tuxedo out of my mind. The first time I read about states where gay marriage was legal, I imagined standing at the altar with the man of my dreams. In my fantasies, he never had a face. I shivered when I saw Alex’s face come into focus in the back of my mind.

  I called Hubert Linton’s office, and his secretary sounded bubbly and cheerful. She said, “I’m sure that will be fine. Mr. Linton will bring Mrs. Linton. Your husband is welcome.” Then she lowered her voice and said, “He’s much nicer than the public reputation, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

  When I told him about the brief conversation, Alex said, “You never know. Maybe his reputation for being so nasty and hateful toward your art is overblown and just based on a few random comments. Maybe if he sees what a brilliantly educated curator you are, he’ll change his ideas. Stranger things have happened.”

  “Maybe so but this marriage thing is pretty strange, Alex. We need to get some stories in place before we go just in case anyone asks for more details about our relationship. We need to both know when and where we met, each other’s favorite colors, and what side of the bed we sleep on.”

  “Surely you’re kidding about the last.”

  I said, “I’m doing my best to keep it all lighthearted. Otherwise, I’ll end up going to the dinner terrified.”

  Alex stepped forward and wrapped me up in a hug. He was good at warm, soothing hugs. He spoke in that resonant voice saying, “No reason to be scared, Liam. I’ll be there. I don’t think I’ve asked about the restaurant yet. Where are we going to eat?”

  I rested my hands on his chest and gazed into his green eyes when I said, “It’s a new restaurant downtown. A hot new chef from Chicago opened it. The restaurant is vegetarian. My boss is a serious foodie, and he suggested that we go there. He wants a full report on the food.”

  “Do I need to wear a suit? I’ll have to buy or rent something if it’s necessary.”

  “No suits required, but yeah, you probably need to wear a sports jacket.”

  Shaking his head, Alex said, “I don’t have anything dressier than khakis and a button-up shirt. I’m a little worried that will make me look out of place, and, before you say it, I don’t want you offering to buy me new clothes.” He pulled away from the hug.

  I frowned for a moment, but then a smile crept across my face. I said, “No, I won’t do that, but I do have another idea.”

  “Another idea?”

  “You’re a little bit bigger in the chest than me, but I bet I have some things you could wear, Alex. In fact, I’m sure that I do. I used to be a little heavier before I got myself back to the gym regularly. I’ve lost about 20 lbs. since then.”

  “Your clothes?” I could see the word “no” starting to form on Alex’s lips. Then I saw him giving the idea serious consideration. Finally, he said, “I guess there’s no reason not to give it a try.”

  “Well, let’s go to the bedroom then. I already have some outfits in mind.”

  “Right now?”

  “Sure, why not. The more plans we have in place, the better I’ll feel about all of this.” I let my eyes roam over his body from head to foot. I imagined him in one of my best charcoal-colored sports jackets.

  Alex smirked and said, “As long as we’re playing dress up, why don’t you try on my clothes, too?”

  I winked and said, “Don’t tempt me.”

  It was more tempting than Alex would know. I could only remember trying on another guy’s clothes one time. That was when I dated Zac back in college. It was just a few weeks after we started dating, and we lived across the hall from each other in the dorm. He went home for the weekend, and he left me the key to
his room. He was a senior and had a private room. As he handed me the key, he said, “This is in case you need to get away from your roomie.”

  While Zac was out of town, I was floating on cloud nine, and I pulled his T-Shirts out of his dresser and tried them on. The fit was a little snug, but they looked like Zac, and they smelled like Zac. I loved running my fingers over the fabric I touched when it was wrapped around Zac’s skin. Now, thinking about those moments while I gazed at Alex only put a new lump in my throat.

  It was the first time Alex entered my bedroom with me. He was there many times before while cleaning when I was at work, but we were never there together. I tried not to look at the bed, and I attempted to ignore any thoughts beyond the dinner and helping Alex look good.

  I turned to the closet and pulled out a few quality dress shirts and a couple of pairs of pants. I draped them across a ladder-backed chair in the corner of the room. I said, “They might not fit perfectly, but I think they will work for the restaurant opening.”

  Alex said, “I thought you were just going to offer me a jacket. These shirts and pants look like a wardrobe.”

  “I have that, too, but try these on.” I’m not sure exactly what I expected. I guess I expected Alex to take the clothes to the bathroom, put them on, and then come back and let me evaluate the product. Instead, he stripped down to his boxer briefs in front of me before pulling up the pair of charcoal-gray dress pants. I saw his naked chest multiple times during mornings in the bathroom, but this was the first time I saw much below his waist.

  Alex slipped into the pants quickly. He hopped on one foot to pull the pant leg up. He zipped up and then spread his legs shoulder-width apart.

  I said, “Turn around and let me see. The pants are a little tight in the back, but I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”

  “Yeah, they are snug, but I think they are wearable.” He glanced down, and I could see a little pink color in his cheeks. He was hard, and he was wearing my pants. I smiled at him, and he smiled weakly back at me.

  I reached out to tug at the waistband and help correct the drape of the pants. Alex responded by pulling my right hand down to his crotch. I instinctively closed my fingers briefly feeling his hard cock while I closed my eyes tight. I didn’t want to see the look on Alex’s face.

  He stepped backward and said, “It’s okay, Liam, I would have done the same thing.”

  I wanted to protest that I didn’t do it. It was Alex’s doing, but I couldn’t deny enjoying it. The thought swept through my mind again. Alex is hard, and he’s wearing my pants. I knew that he could see a visible bulge in my jeans, too.

  I gamely tried to distract attention from the intimate touch and said, “Try on the shirt. I think that sky-blue color will look great against your complexion.”

  Alex tugged his shirt off over his head and then put his arms through the sleeves before beginning to button it up. It was tight just where it needed to be across his broad chest. Alex said, “I think this fits better than the pants. You must have been bigger in the past.”

  “I was bigger in the gut. It was a nightmare. Shirts were loose in the chest and tighter in the gut. That shirt looks like a tailor sewed it for you.”

  “Can I see the mirror?”

  I said, “Oh, of course,” and I stepped to the side to allow him a clear view of the big mirror over my dresser.

  “Yeah, I think this will work.”

  I ran my fingers across the crisp cotton fabric at his shoulders and nodded in agreement. Then I asked, “Do you want to try on anything else? I’ve got so many pants and shirts that might look good on you.” At the moment, I wanted Alex to try on everything in my closet, so that the next time I wore something, I knew that the fabric had touched Alex’s body, too.

  Alex bent his right elbow and covered my right hand with his. He spoke to the mirror image of us saying, “This will work for the dinner, right?”

  I said, “Yes, it will, but maybe…maybe you want some different options.”

  Alex squeezed the hand and said, “You want me to try on more of your clothes, don’t you?”

  I nodded, and I fought off the reflex to blush.

  Alex grinned. “Let’s do it, then.”

  He didn’t try on everything in my closet, but we put together nearly a dozen outfits, and I made sure I separated them from the rest of the clothes in my closet. I wanted to remember what I’d seen Alex wear, and they were available if he needed them for any other events in the future.

  8

  Alex

  Trying on so many different shirts and pants that belonged to Liam amused me, but I could see the look in his eyes, and it made him happy. After so much time spent desperately trying to do something that put a smile on Eric’s face, I loved seeing Liam smile so often. It was the perfect reward for my efforts. He was happy, and I hoped I would get to see him even happier before I returned to St. Paul.

  When I walked Chester to the dog park early the next morning, I only needed a brief glance at Mark to know what happened. His entire face was wrinkled and pinched while he stared down at his dog. He didn’t even look up when I accidentally slammed the gate of the dog park hard as I entered with Chester. Mark stood alone in one of the corners while his dog stuck its nose through the fence to try to sniff the grass on the other side.

  I knew that Mark’s relationship with Max was over. Mark’s shoulders slumped forward in a resigned fashion. They were more relaxed than the weeks he held his body tense while trying to navigate through the atrocious personal situation, but it wasn’t a happy sight.

  Keeping Chester’s leash tight and close to my body, I crept slowly in Mark’s direction. When we were just steps away, he looked up, tried to smile, and said, “Oh, hi, Alex. I didn’t hear you come through the gate. I guess I was a little lost in my thoughts.”

  I sighed heavily and said, “It’s over. I can see it written all over your face.”

  “Yeah, we were sleeping in separate bedrooms the last couple of weeks, and he had two suitcases packed and sitting near the kitchen table when I got up this morning.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Just keep being my friend. You and Liam are great. I couldn’t ask for much better friends than the two of you. I think you should do everything you can to hang on to Liam. He’s a keeper.”

  I stuck my hands in my pockets while Chester sniffed at Mark’s shoes. I said, “We’re not a couple, Mark.”

  “I know. You both say that, and I think I understand. Then I see the two of you walking down the street with Chester, and it’s such an ideal picture. The only thing missing is a baby stroller.”

  I shifted nervously back and forth. It wasn’t like Mark was bringing up something I’d never thought of, but Liam was off limits. He didn’t make any advances to me, not even when my arousal was noticeable while I tried on his clothes. I had to guide his hand to touch me. Fortunately, when I wore the pants I didn’t have anything snaking down my thigh, but he did touch me, and I was hard.

  Sighing, I said, “I guess looks aren’t everything. People always told me that Eric and I looked great together, and that relationship was a disaster.”

  “Maybe the two of you should give it just a little more thought, because, honestly, you are perfect together.”

  * * *

  Liam sat at the kitchen table sipping a mug of tea when I returned to the house with Chester. He immediately focused his attention on the dog. “Do you need a treat? Were you a gentleman at the dog park, Chester?”

  “He was a perfect gentleman. I think he was even courting that standard poodle for a few moments. They pranced side by side until she got distracted by a pigeon.”

  “Do you think Chester has a girlfriend?” asked Liam.

  “If it’s a girlfriend, he wasn’t very attentive, but they did look good together.” I immediately wanted to kick myself for such a snarky comment, but it was too late to reel it back in.

  Liam sighed and said, “Like everyone says about the two
of us?”

  I headed for the kitchen sink and pulled open the cabinet beneath. It was the spot where Liam kept Chester’s treats. I said, “Yeah, I guess so, like that. I did get questions about where you were. That always happens when I’m alone with Chester. Mark was at the park looking devastated. I wanted to cheer him up, but he was inconsolable. I think he was on the verge of tears when we arrived.”

  “Damn that sucks. Did Mark’s boyfriend screw him over again?”

  I said, “More than that. They finally broke up. Mark said the asshole didn’t even tell him in advance. Max was standing in the kitchen first thing in the morning with two packed suitcases. I guess it’s all for the best. Mark needs a real boyfriend, not one that treats him like that.”

  “Did you see any other interesting characters?”

  “Not so much. Someone asked where my boyfriend was, and I had to explain that you aren’t my boyfriend, and I’m just a temporary resident.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  “No, but it was followed up by one of those, ‘Aren’t you gay?’ comments with the assumption that I couldn’t co-exist in the same house with another gay man without sleeping with him. I guess if I’m honest, I would have to say I didn’t know it was possible either until the last few weeks.”

  Liam asked, “Does that annoy you? I think it’s starting to get old to me. Why is it anyone else’s business?”

  “It’s not too horrible. Look at it this way. I think you’re a great guy so there are worse things than having people think that I could attract a guy like you. You at my side implies that I have good taste. They smile when they comment on us. The last six months I was with Eric, no one ever made comments like that. It was like everybody else could see the wedge and the rot between us, while I ignored it. I was slow to catch on.”

  Liam crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the kitchen counter. Chester finished crunching his treat and sauntered over to me. He sat at my side and looked back at Liam who asked, “But why can’t they just accept an innocent shared house situation? I mean, I guess I could just say that we’re brothers. Then all of the questions would end.”