Faking it with #41
Page 10
Yep, I’m royally fucked.
Florida couldn’t be more different from New York City. It’s been a week since I moved down here and I’ve rarely seen Ford. He signed him and Annabelle up for some daddy and me things on the days he doesn’t have games. Or he’s training, but he always has the babysitter here for Annabelle. I know he said he didn’t want me to care for her but it feels insulting—as though he doesn’t trust me to watch her. Whatever connection I felt with him in New York City vanished the minute the party was over. Isn’t that the point though? I keep forgetting the word fake between the words Ford and fiancé.
I head downstairs late morning. I slept in because I don’t have much to do. Turns out all the Jacobs have been behaving themselves recently.
There’s coffee in the pot, so I pour myself a cup, happy it’s still hot. Which means Ford and Annabelle didn’t leave that long ago. I’m starting to feel lonely. Not that I had a ton of friends back in the city, but I had places I knew and liked to visit. Maybe it’s because I’m not that familiar with the area.
Ford said I could drive his Bronco while I’m here since he’s usually in his Mercedes with Annabelle. He’s not risking her traveling in a truck without a top. I glance at the keys in the dish next to the landline phone. Who has a landline anymore?
Screw this. I dump my coffee in the sink and head upstairs to get dressed for the day. After putting on my bikini with a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a tank top, I pack a towel, sunscreen, and the book I’ve been reading off and on lately. Back in the kitchen, I jot down a quick note for Ford to tell him where I am. No sense texting him because I know he doesn’t care. But in the strange event he is wondering when he gets home, there you go.
I lock up and leave the house, then I’m standing beside the vehicle. The Bronco is all custom done with a shiny navy blue paint job and brown leather seats adorned with white stitching. Then my gaze falls to the stick shift. He didn’t say anything about that. Good thing I was forced to learn to drive my dad’s car when I was far too young, so I know I’ve got this. I hop inside, press on the clutch and brake, insert the key, and start it up.
I close my eyes. The sun beats on my head and the humidity soaks into my skin. This is awesome. I can’t believe it took me a week to get out of the house. Sure, there’s a beach at Ford’s place—and a pool—but there are no other people. And I just need to be around people today.
I ease off the clutch and give it some gas. The Bronco sputters for a second before kicking into gear, then it’s smooth sailing and I’m rolling down Ford’s street. When I reach the stop sign, I glance at the radio to see that of course Ford has it set to play from his phone.
Pulling out my phone, I plug it in the jack and switch on Blondie. My dad had such a crush on her when I was growing up that he played her nonstop. Now I love her too.
I stop to get a smoothie, then I park the Bronco by a long pier and explore the small downtown area of Waterfall Springs. About fifteen minutes into my exploration, a man’s voice says my name. I turn away from the window of the cute beach shop that sells jewelry and sundresses to find Tripp Newton, Florida Fury’s PR representative.
“Hi, Tripp,” I say, smiling. I’ve had to converse with him a lot due to Ford’s antics in the past.
“I just heard the news. I’m surprised, to say the least.” His hand lands on my hip and he draws me close, pressing a kiss to my cheek. The exchange is friendlier than we’ve ever been, but I guess this is more social than work related right now.
“What happened?” I ask. What PR nightmare has Ford started now, and how am I not in the know? A million possibilities run through my mind.
Tripp tilts his head, his gaze moving to my left hand and my empty ring finger.
I clutch my hand. “Oh yeah. Big news, right? I’m not wearing my ring because I was afraid to lose it in the sand. Can you imagine?”
Truthfully, it’s in a jewelry box in the bedroom I’m staying in. I can’t wear it. I feel anxious the entire time it’s on my finger.
“From the picture I saw, it’s quite the ring.” Tripp rocks back on his heels. He’s wearing board shorts and a cut muscle tee that shows his lean arms and biceps. “I was just headed to play beach volleyball. Do you want to join me?”
I sip my smoothie, not sure what to say.
“It’s just me and a few friends who get together every weekend to play. Super chill.” He points.
I follow the direction of his finger and see two sand volleyball nets set up on the other side of the road. At least Tripp Newton wants my company. “Sure.”
“Cool. Let’s go. I’ll make sure to tell all the guys you’re taken.” He winks. “But you gotta tell me, when did you and Ford start dating?”
“Remember New Year’s?” I ask. Ford and I decided to pretend our relationship started when I had to drag him out of the party because his dad insisted on seeing him. The night we kissed for the first time.
“Oh, you two left…” He nods.
“Yeah, so we were in hiding for quite a while. Especially with the whole Annabelle thing.”
He nods. “Makes sense. Where is he now?”
We cross the street. “He’s with Annabelle at a daddy and me class.”
He chuckles. “I gotta say, I’m shocked at the way he’s taken on the role of daddy so well. I hope he takes on the husband role with the same ferocity.”
“I’m sure he will.” I smile.
Lies. All lies. The more I have to lie to people, the more the fact that I’m doing this for money leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
We approach the volleyball courts, and the warm sand feels good in my sandals but makes it harder to walk. Tripp puts his hand on the small of my back, presenting me to his friends, who are all men. I raise a hand to wave hello when the sound of a car squealing to a stop jars me. Cars honk and we all turn to see what’s going on.
That’s when I see Ford in his Mercedes with the window rolled down and his sunglasses tipped to the edge of his nose, staring at where I am. It’s clear he doesn’t like what he sees.
I narrow my eyes at him. What does he care? He’s left me alone the entire time I’ve been here.
“Shit, he doesn’t look happy,” Tripp mumbles from behind me.
Ford pulls into a parking spot clearly marked with a no parking sign and files out of the car in a pair of shorts and a shirt that shows off his big biceps and the strength of his shoulders.
“Tripp.” Ford smacks on a smile and walks over with his arm outstretched. “I see you ran into Lena.” They shake hands, then Ford comes over to me, putting his arm around my waist. He presses a chaste kiss to my cheek. “You heard the news, right?”
“Where’s Annabelle?” I ask.
“She’s at Aiden and Saige’s. They want to pretend to be parents or some shit.” He straightens and eyes the rest of the guys. “Are we playing volleyball?”
“Well, I was…” Tripp says.
“I’m game. You playing, sweetie?” He looks back at me. “Want to be on the same team?”
“I was actually going to finish my smoothie.” I hold it up in front of me.
Ford lets his grip on me go and holds out his hand for the volleyball. “Cool. Let’s play.”
Tripp appears tongue-tied but heads over to the court. Meanwhile, I can’t strip my eyes off of Ford after he acted so protective and possessive over me. It shouldn’t turn me on, but damn, who thought he cared so much? Certainly not me.
I sit on the cement ledge that separates the beach and the small row of parking before the street. Ford takes charge, dictating how the game will go and who is on whose team. He puts Tripp on the other team, which I assume was on purpose.
There’s burning anger in Ford’s eyes that’s so hot, I grow wet. Damn, I can’t get turned on by him going caveman just because I was conversing with a man we both know. What does that say about me?
The game starts and Ford is all over the place, barely allowing any of his teammates to handle the ball. He spi
kes it on Tripp, and Tripp ends up sprawled out in the sand. Ford doesn’t glance my way at all during the match.
This continues over and over until finally one of the other guys steps in and they lose the serve. Mid-game, I’m way too hot in this sun, so I take off my tank top and pull out my sunscreen. I’m spreading the lotion on my chest when I glance up and see Ford’s hooded eyes set on me. My skin comes alive with awareness and my heart pounds. I have to bury this want I have for this man. I have to.
“Ford,” one of the other guys says.
Ford dives to the ground, hitting the ball with his fist to get it up in the air. A puff of sand floats up, and when he stands, he’s covered.
Is there anything he’s not good at?
“I’m going down to the beach,” I announce, taking my small bag and heading in that direction. I’m done with his alpha side and him trying to show that he owns me. We both know he doesn’t own me, doesn’t even want to.
“Wait for me. We’re almost finished,” Ford calls.
I don’t stop, and the squawk of a police car grabs all of our attention.
“Looks like you have more important things to take care of.” I point to where the cop has pulled up behind Ford’s Mercedes.
He runs over, already explaining the situation before he reaches the police officer.
No doubt he’ll get off because of who he is.
“Nice to see you, Tripp.” I shoot him an apologetic look.
“Don’t look like that. I kind of like the jealousy thing. Makes those doubts I had about you two disappear.”
I should be offended, but I shrug and head down to the beach. Stopping a few steps from the water, I take off my sandals and jean shorts and shove them into my bag. Walking along the shoreline, I dodge small kids running back and forth to the water. Some people are building sandcastles and others are just lying out, allowing their skin to soak up the sun.
“We need to talk,” Ford says, suddenly alongside me and breathless.
I roll my eyes and walk closer to the water, but he only follows me.
“Is that Ford Jacobs?” a man says.
“No shit!” someone else says.
Before I blink, Ford takes my bag off my shoulder, drops it in a dry spot in the sand, and places his hands on my hips, ushering me into the water.
“I’m not swimming,” I say, trying to turn around.
“Just go. I’m not in the mood to sign any fucking autographs. And we need to settle some business.”
“Why do I have to go into the water? You can’t drown me in broad daylight.” I turn and place my hands on his sandy chest. Jeez, it’s way too muscular for me to be expected to think straight when I’m touching it.
His face twists. “What the hell are you talking about? Just keep walking.”
Then his arms wrap around my waist and he tugs me toward him, pushing us fully into the water.
I take a mouthful of saltwater before I emerge to the surface. “Jesus, Ford!”
“Sorry, but you refuse to listen to me.”
“In case you forgot,” I say, looking around and lowering my voice, “we’re not actually engaged.”
“You need to start believing we are because your behavior and attitude are convincing people we aren’t.”
“Are you talking about Tripp?” A wave washes up and our bodies rise and fall. “Give me a break.”
He lifts my hand. “You have to wear the ring.”
I tear my hand away. “I don’t want to. It’s too expensive.”
He groans and eyes the area around us. “You understand that I can afford to replace it?”
“So what? That doesn’t mean you should have to.”
A couple slowly make their way closer, obviously recognizing Ford from the man’s creepy smile. Ford nods, giving him the look to say, “Hi, but now isn’t the time.” His hands reach for my waist and he pushes me the other way again, but I lose my footing and a wave comes, leaving me no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist to stay afloat.
“Now you got the idea,” he says.
I still because either I’ve caught a sea cucumber between us, or there’s something very hard between his legs. Could he want me like I want him?
I blink a few times before I recover. “You don’t own me and I don’t appreciate the jealousy act.” I’m lying about the jealousy thing.
“Sorry, but it pissed me off. He had his hand on the small of your back. That part of your body is mine until this is over.”
I laugh and rock my head back, trying to unhook my legs until I find he’s taken us even deeper. There’s no hope that I can stand here, which leaves me no choice but to stay glued to him. Short girl problems.
“Stop playing games. We know exactly what this is.” Unable to stop myself, I grind along his length and he tugs me even closer, raising his hips to thrust into me. “It’s all fake.”
“There’s nothing fake about what’s happening right now.” He pulls me closer, his hand that faces away from the beach reaching down. His knuckle grazes my nipple.
It pebbles and I resist a full-body shiver, my eyes closing. “We can’t do this.”
His lips hover over my neck right under my ear. “I’m sorry, but you in that bikini…” He groans and I feel that groan centered between my legs. “I can’t not do it.”
I run my core along him, needing a release from being wound so tight. “If we cross the line now, how will we survive an entire year?”
His lips press to my neck, his tongue traveling up my ear. “Don’t you ever want to say fuck it all and just do what you want?”
Um, yeah. Like right now. Right now, I’d love to, but it doesn’t change the fact that we have to get through an entire year. I’m not sure I can have him once and never again, because Ford is a chaser. I’m only tempting if he can’t have me.
“We can’t,” I say, my voice strong, firm this time.
He grunts, stripping his body off of me. As we emerge from the water, I catch a few people with phones out. We’ve floated down the beach from where my bag is, so I wait patiently as Ford signs autographs and people wish us congratulations. Once the crowd disperses and we head toward my bag, it’s clear that Ford Jacobs is mad at me.
I’m in the locker room, getting dressed for the game.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Maksim says.
I shrug. “I’m fine.”
“Fuck you. This is exactly how you were when you found out Britney was pregnant.” Aiden eyes me from across the room.
He’s right, and I hate that my first reaction at the news I was having a kid was depression. Especially now that I can’t imagine my life without Annabelle.
“Your fiancée not doing it for you?” Maksim asks.
There are a few lingering stares from some of our other teammates, and I scold Maksim with a look. Of course I didn’t keep the truth from my friends, but I know they’ll keep their mouths shut.
“Just think of the outcome,” Maksim whispers. “He’s off your back for good.”
And that is some great fucking news, but it would be a helluva lot better if I didn’t actually want my fake fiancée. I almost took her in an ocean. With spectators. If she would’ve let me, I probably would’ve let it happen, bet with Tweetie or not.
“The pictures look like you’re enjoying your fiancée,” Tweetie chimes in, coming to stand in front of me.
“What’s not to enjoy?” I say and adjust my pads.
He has a smug smile. “Guess you lost the bet.”
“Guess again.”
His eyebrows rise into his hairline. “You’re telling me you just got engaged and you’re not hitting that? No fucking way.”
I shrug then stand. “You know how competitive I am.” I grip his shoulder. “She’s tried a few times, but I just keep reminding her how good it’ll be in a few weeks.”
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head before he walks back over to his area, but he must believe me because he doesn’t argue the point further.
It’s been two days and my body still aches from not having her. She turned me down, which was the smart decision. The right one. She’s a hundred times smarter than me because while all I thought about was how I could have sex with her in an ocean without people realizing, she was thinking of the long year ahead of us.
Someone turns on the music and everyone runs through their superstitions before the game. Maksim goes to take a leak, and I sit down across from Aiden.
He’s eyeing me. “Want to talk?”
I shake my head.
“You sure?”
“I can handle my shit.”
“I know you can. But you’re not used to catching feelings.”
I glance up to see Aiden’s raised eyebrow. The one to suggest he sees right through me. But he’s wrong. There are no feelings, it’s pure lust involved.
“It’s just attraction, and anyway it’s probably because she’s the only woman on this earth that I can’t fuck right now. That’s the only reason I have blue balls.” I basically just repeat what Lena said to me.
He nods. “Like a chastity belt, huh?” He laughs.
I finish tying my skate and stand. “Fuck off, Shamrock, I’m serious.”
“How bad you want your dad off your back?”
“You know I want him to piss off about the whole business thing and just let me play hockey in peace.”
He lifts his shoulders. “Then just beat off to the image of her. Or fuck someone else discreetly. Or go celibate for the next year. But you cannot let this thing explode, and if the two of you sleep together, that’s exactly what’s gonna happen. It’s gonna end before you reach the altar.”
I knew Aiden would make sense, and that’s why I didn’t want his opinion. Always the voice of reason. I wanted to hear it from Tweetie, who would’ve said fuck her and deal with repercussions after.