Page 27 of His Fake Fiancé

He stared at the closed door for a few minutes, his head spinning. What the fuck was that? He turned around and headed back toward the living room. He was so fucking confused he didn’t know which way was up. Or, more to the point, he didn’t know what was up with his dick.

The little fucker was more than half hard over Claire McKinney. His best friend. The person he trusted the most in this world, outside of his family. And, yeah, she was gorgeous, but she was also Claire. Claire who was doing something massive for him, which is probably why he was acting so weird.

He snapped off the light over the stove, thrusting the room into darkness. His eyes were nowhere near adjusted enough, everything pitch black. He wandered over in the direction of the couch, stubbing his toe on something about halfway there. He swallowed back a yell, pain radiating across his foot. There was no point in waking the rest of the house. He’d probably scare the shit out of both Claire and Olivia.

He limped the rest of the way to the couch, being very careful to not hit anything else. The bonus of his injured toe was that it had dropped a big old bucket of ice water on his libido. He was no longer being driven by his hormones, the head on the top of his body now the one doing the thinking.

He crawled into the sofa bed and groaned. His previous aches and pains were once again asserting themselves. There was a bar of some kind digging into his back. He rolled over onto his side, hoping to alleviate the issue. It didn’t help. The bar now just dug into his ribs.

Doubts about this whole thing crept in. Was this really going to work? It had seemed like such a brilliant idea when his lawyer had mentioned that people who could show stable, “traditional” family situations, had a better chance of gaining custody in these situations. But he should have known better. Thinking wasn’t his strong suit.

He rolled over to his other side, the springs on the bed creaking. It was still pitch black in the guest house, but now he was facing the hallway. The image of Claire in her pajamas flashed through his brain. Jesus, her ass in those shorts…

He buried his face in his pillow and groaned. His dick, which had cooled its jets when he’d stubbed his toe, came roaring back to life. What the actual fuck was wrong with him? Obviously, it had been far too long since he’d gotten laid.

Now that he thought about it, that had to be it. He hadn’t been with anyone since Olivia came into his life. At first, it had been because he was freaked the fuck out about someone else getting pregnant. He was always careful, made sure to always wear a condom, but obviously one of his little swimmers had managed to make a break for it that night with Gina.

And then, every part of his life basically changed overnight and… shit, he didn’t know. All he knew was that it had been months since he’d been with anyone, and it was making him fucking loopy.

And yes, he was talking months here, but for someone like him, someone who was known for their looks and not much else, his need for physical connection was strong. And he loved women. They loved him. There was nothing wrong with that.

Way to try to justify being a man-whore, asshole.

He shoved the pillow over his face, refusing to think too deeply about all of this. What he needed was to go to sleep. He rolled back over onto his back, unable to get comfortable. That stupid fucking bar was digging into his back again. He and Olivia should probably go back to his bedroom in the main house. At least, that way, he’d be able to get some sleep. The only reason he wasn’t was because he was afraid someone would get wind of the fact he and Claire weren’t actually living together in the guest house.

The ranch was isolated enough that there was probably no real worry, but he wasn’t taking any chances. What if Gina hired a private investigator or something? They needed to be careful, make this look legit.

It would look really legit if you and Claire slept in the same bed.

Yeah, and that was totally his dick talking. As if in response, his dick throbbed, excited at the idea.

“Down boy,” he mumbled, rolling over onto his side again. Hopefully this whole custody thing would be over soon, and then his life could go back to normal. Not that he knew what normal was these days.

A weird feeling washed through him. One he didn’t completely understand. Normal was safe, familiar, a good thing. He liked his life… didn’t he? Granted, things had been a bit all over the place since Olivia arrived, but that was to be expected. And honestly, except for the no female companionship thing, life hadn’t changed all that much. Mama and Grace, and even Claire to an extent, had really taken over with Olivia. Other than a serious lack of sleep—even though he’d been pushed aside when it came to his daughter’s care, he still got up and stood there like a useless idiot when she cried—no one asked him to do anything other than move stuff around, or haul stuff to the car.

The first time he’d tried to change a diaper had been a disaster, but one he’d been hoping to learn from. Instead, Mama had nudged him out of the way and taken over. Quick and efficient and perfect. So, he’d gone with it, because what else was he supposed to do? It wasn’t like he knew anything about babies.

He didn’t even get a chance to pick out the stuff for her nursery.

Mama had rushed out the day after the whole front porch debacle, and had bought everything. And yes, it was beautiful, but it was also very girly. Not that he could blame the woman. She had five boys. No doubt there were days when she wished for a baby girl. How could he deny her that joy?

She was also the one who’d hired Sabrina. Not that Jake didn’t appreciate everything that the part time nanny did for Olivia. She was a lovely woman who’d been looking after little ones for a long time. Her references were spotless, and she was worth every penny. It just would have been nice to have a say in the matter.

Although it was still pitch black, his eyes had adjusted enough that he could see basic shapes. He frowned up at the ceiling fan. He’d let them all take over because he’d been scared—was still scared—and because it was easy. And Jake always takes the easy way out, doesn’t he?

The strange ache in his chest deepened. He rubbed at it absently and rolled over onto his side again. Why was he stressing out about this shit all of a sudden? He was exhausted and supposed to be sleeping. That must be why he was so bloody off tonight. Now was not the time to be reevaluating his life choices.

He pulled the pillow over his head, wishing his brain would turn off for a few minutes so he could nod off. He’d never worried about this stuff before, and wasn’t sure what had suddenly changed to make him overthinking shit now.

He closed his eyes and willed his body to relax, but no matter how hard he tried, it refused to co-operate. He tossed and turned for what had to be hours, before he finally drifted off to sleep, where his dreams were filled with blonde-haired, blue-eyed babies that looked an awful lot like the McKinneys.

Chapter 9

The small cry crackled through the baby monitor and Claire’s eyes popped open. They felt dry and gritty, which wasn’t surprising, given the crappy sleep she had. Her bump into Jake in the hallway last night had thrown every hormone in her body into a tizzy. All of that hot, hard flesh under her fingers…

Another cry sent her scrambling from the bed. She opened the door as quietly as possible and peeked into the hallway. Silence. Just to be safe, she craned her neck, trying to see around the corner. Nothing. She hurried to Olivia’s room, her pulse banging against her throat at a ridiculous pace. It was almost like she was sneaking around, which was dumb. She was being quiet to not wake Jake. That was all.

And if she kept telling herself that, maybe one day, in the far off future, someone might actually believe it.