Page 17 of His Fake Fiancé

She squashed that thought flat. Not helpful. Besides, it wasn’t like Linc or any of her brothers knew about her feelings for Jake. The only person she’d ever told was her best girl friend, KC. And there’s no way Kase would have told anyone. Least of all Claire’s much older brothers.

“You ready to talk?” Linc’s question knocked her back to the present.

She was really going to have to work on her concentration. She kept getting lost in her own head. Something else she could blame on Jake and his ridiculous plan.

“About what?” She kept her tone flippant, mostly because she really didn’t want to have this conversation. At this point, she just wanted to go back to the house, sink into a hot bubble bath, and forget about all the ridiculous men in her life.

“Are we really going to do this, Chicken?” Linc pushed away from the cabinet and walked over to their dad’s desk. He pulled out the chair, spun it around and straddled it, laying his arms along the back. “Talk to me, please?”

She spun to face him. He was watching her, although there was no disappointment or anger in his gaze. Just curiosity.

Some of the tension that had crept into her shoulders released and she lowered her arms, interlocking her fingers and resting her hands over her stomach. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Jake and I have taken our relationship to the next level.” Okay, so that wasn’t exactly the truth. And by exactly, she meant it was a complete lie.

For some reason, the truth had stuck to the back her tongue, refusing to come out. She knew there was no way Linc would rat her and Jake out to Gina’s lawyer or the judge or anything, especially if she explained how important Olivia was to Mrs. C and Jake. To her.

But just as she was about to tell Linc the truth, the words refused to come out. Because this was too important. To her and the Callahans. The fewer people who knew about her and Jake’s plan, the better. The more people who believed she and Jake had actually fallen in love, the better. It made the lie more believable.

It also meant that, if anyone asked, her family wouldn’t have to lie for her.

The gravity of what she and Jake were doing crashed down on her like an ocean wave, and suddenly, she felt like she was drowning. Her lungs locked tight, refusing to inflate.

She must have given herself away because withing seconds Linc was out of the chair and kneeling next to her. He took her hand between his calloused ones. “Chicken? Claire? Are you okay?”

He squeezed her fingers, and that seemed to unlock her burning lungs. She sucked in a shaky breath. She couldn’t do this. It was too much. This was a huge deal. A massive lie. And even though it would hurt Jake, she couldn’t go through with it. Jake would understand. He had to understand.

She patted the back of Linc’s hand. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her voice came out squeaky, which didn’t instill a whole lot of confidence in the statement, but there was nothing she could do about it. “I will be home for dinner tonight, though.”

She pushed to her feet. Linc rolled to his. She grabbed her coat and pulled it on. The idea of telling Jake she couldn’t do this any longer made her feel sick to her stomach, but she’d just have to get over that. She grabbed her purse and pulled out her keys.

“Where are you going?” Linc had his arms crossed over his chest again, looking very much like the disapproving big brother. “Do I need to kick Jake Callahan’s ass? Because you just say the word and he’s a dead man.”

Even though her emotions were all over the place, her lips tilted up on one side. “No, there’s no need for ass kicking. I’ve got this.”

She opened the door and strode out of the office, determination making her back straight. The nerves made her palms sweaty, though, and she quickly wiped then on her pants and climbed into her jeep.

The drive over to the Callahans took way less time than usual, and before she knew it, she was parked next to Jake’s truck in front of the house. Her palms were still damp, so she wiped them on her pants again. Okay, she could do this. Just walk in there, tell Jake how she was feeling and why, let him know they’d have to find another way, and be done with it.

Sure, he was probably going to be disappointed. And yes, that made her feel like she wanted to throw up, but this whole lying thing wasn’t working. Spending just about every free minute of the day with Jake was too much. She couldn’t relax, no matter how hard she tried, and then that made her anxious. It was too much.

It wasn’t too much when Jake was holding you after you ran into Bobbi-Jo last week. You were relaxed and comfortable when he wrapped his arms around you.

That was so not helping. And thinking about that moment, and how amazing and right it felt, was also not a good idea. She just needed to keep reminding herself it was fake, that Jake didn’t real have those sorts of feelings for her, and she’d be good.

She got out of the jeep and shut the door. It was sunny today, but cold, and she pulled her coat tighter around her. Like the drive over, the walk to the door passed in a blur that seems to last only a heartbeat. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

The house was quiet, which wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t quite the end of the work day, so most of the Callahans were out working the ranch. She walked down the hall and peeked into the kitchen. It was empty. There were two, delicious looking pies cooling on the counter, which meant Mrs. C had been busy this afternoon. She must be at one of her committee meetings, or book clubs, or something. And she’d probably taken the baby with her. She doted on her granddaughter like crazy. It was sweet.

Claire ducked her head into the living room and then the den, which were also empty. Maybe Jake was helping Owen out with something on the property. She wasn’t sure what his exact title on the ranch was—it was possible Jake didn’t know either—he just helped out when needed. The Callahan ranch was quite a bit larger than her family’s ranch and there was no longer any doubt they made way more money than her family, not after the interview last week. It was obvious Jake didn’t need to work, and she was pretty sure he had a trust fund or something like that, although money was not something they ever talked about, so she couldn’t be sure.

A bunch of butterflies flapped around in her belly. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. Okay, that was a lie. She hated the idea of disappointing Jake. But she really needed to stop being such a doormat. Or at least start voicing her concerns, instead of just rolling over and letting everyone walk all over her.

She headed upstairs, just to double check. At the top of the stairs, she heard Jake’s voice. He was talking low, so she couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. She curled her fingers into her still sweaty palms—seriously, was she going to have to go and see a doctor about her excess palm sweat?—and walked toward his room.

He was talking to someone. Oh, Jesus, was he with someone? Her soul crumpled like a piece of paper in a fist. She stopped and strained to hear something, anything, that would let her know what was happening. Maybe she should go. Come back later, when Jake wasn’t… entertaining someone. Bile coated the back of her throat, and she turned back toward the stairs.

A baby squeal echoed down the hallway.

Claire stopped and spun back around. Was he just with Olivia? Had she overreacted? Jumped to conclusions? She walked over to the bedroom door and peeked inside. Jake’s bedroom was empty, so she continued on and peeked in the nursery.