Page 50 of His Fake Fiancé

He handed his coat over to Cherise, who was manning the coat check tonight. They’d hooked up once a few years ago, and he’d always got the impression she’d be more than up for another go round. But he was no-more-than-a-few-days type of guy. Mostly because, any more than that, and they’d realize how dumb he was. How much was flash, and how little was substance.

Better to leave them with the illusion, the perfect moment, than let them linger and experience the sad reality.

He gave her a smile, although it felt tight, and tucked a five-dollar bill into the tip jar. She looked like she wanted to say something, but he just ducked his head and hurried inside.

The place was busier than usual, even for a Friday night. Must be because of the band. He wove his way through the crowd and over to the bar.

He squeezed through some folks and leaned against the smooth wood. Looked like they hadn’t been expecting such a big crowd either, because Jessie and Shauna were hustling behind the bar. Drinks and money were flying back and forth, fast and furious.

He managed to catch Shauna’s eye, and motioned to her that he wanted a beer. She gave him a smile that brought out her dimple and threw him a nod. She held up a finger to say one minute, and turned back to her current customer.

The base lines of a new song started thumping through the room. He turned and leaned against the bar, resting his elbows on the solid wood. Taking in all the people hanging out, chatting, laughing.

A squeal sounded from somewhere on the other side of the place. A tiny brunette head bounced up and down, followed by a blonde. The crowd parted and KC and Claire hurried onto the dance floor.

Yeah, like it’s a big surprise. You knew they’d be here, which is why you followed them.

He pushed that thought aside. It wasn’t worth examining now. Or ever.

Claire and KC were jumping and whooping, dancing to the heavy beat of the song. The lead singer had said it was Stupid by Kacey Musgraves, and he recognized it from the radio. He’d never really listened to the lyrics before, but as he watched Claire and KC sing along at the top of their lungs, the words sank in.

The main gist was that love was stupid.

A weird feeling pulled tight in his chest. But he’d be damned if he knew what it was all about. But as he watched Claire sing along with the words, a huge smile on her face, the tightness only got worse. He lifted his hand and rubbed at the spot.

“Here you go.”

He turned his head. Shauna placed a beer on the bar next to his elbow.

“Thanks,” he said, an appreciative smile sliding onto his face automatically. Not that it would work on Shauna. She was firmly entrenched on team women loving women. And he was cool with that. In fact, there was a small piece of him that was happy they had no prior baggage. One of the problems with his playboy persona was that he often had to avoid certain people or situations to stop from having to rehash something stupid he’d done in the past.

Face it. It’s always a someone. Someone you’ve done in the past.

“So, you and Claire are really a thing, huh?”

He turned and picked up his beer, taking a swig. “Yup.”

“Kinda came out of nowhere, didn’t it?”

His jaw clenched automatically. What the hell was with the third degree all of a sudden? “No, not really. We’ve been friends for a long time—”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just, I never thought you’d settle down. At least not so soon.” She shrugged and pulled the cloth off her shoulder and wiped up the ring of condensation his bottle had left. “Then again, I didn’t expect you’d be stepping up to raise a baby…”

The words stabbed him, a quick jab in the gut, the edges sharp. It was the kind of jab where it took a minute to realize you’d been stabbed. And then the pain hit, sharp and bright. While he could understand the sentiment, and why everyone in town would think he was useless, it didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. He took another swig of beer, mainly to keep from saying something he was going to regret.

He must have forecast his feelings anyway—he really wasn’t good with this shit—because she patted his arm, the touch apologetic. “Sorry, Jake. That came out wrong.”

He shrugged and smiled, playing his part, pushing the bad shit away. It wasn’t her fault he was feeling all sorts of fucked up right now. “No worries.” He slid some money across the bar and then turned away. His gaze zeroed in on Claire, almost like she was a homing beacon.

She and KC were still dancing and singing the song to each other. It was great to see Claire so relaxed, sentiments of the song notwithstanding. The ache in his chest twisted into something else he didn’t quite understand.

Why was he feeling all this weird shit all of a sudden?

He took another sip of his beer. The malty brew tasted extra sour on the way down, and he made a face. Everything felt off tonight. He put the bottle back on the bar and pushed it away. What in the hell was wrong with him?

The song ended and Claire and KC clapped. KC gave a whoop and then they walked back over to their table, which was right up against the far side of the dance floor.

The band started up another song. This time it was a cover of Ex’s and Oh’s, the Elle King song, this version the one from that third all-girls acapella movie. Claire had made him watch all of those movies so many times, he practically had them memorized.