Page 59 of His Fake Fiancé

Her hands were all sweaty, so she wiped them on the dish towel, and then hung it on the hook next to the sink. With a deep breath, she walked around the island and into the living room.

Noelle Fletcher walked into the house, wearing another smart pant suit, this one black with a fuchsia blouse. The color was gorgeous against her dark skin. She had her glasses perched on the end of her nose, and Claire got the distinct impression she missed nothing. A sweeping glance and everything would be catalogued in her brain.

Claire’s stomach felt like it was going through the permanent press cycle. She’d done enough laundry in her lifetime to know. Her stupid palms were damp again, but she refused to give into the urge to wipe them on something. Noelle was watching, and there was no need to give her any additional ammunition.

Not that she thought Noelle was looking for ammunition. This whole thing was just so stressful. She was afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing and jeopardizing Jake’s chances of gaining custody of Olivia.

“Hello, again, Ms. McKinney.” Ms. Fletcher turned her gaze to Claire. For some reason, Claire felt like she was being slowly dissected by the sharp as a scalpel look. Like Noelle was peeling back the layers, searching for Claire’s gooey, lying middle.

“Please, call me Claire.” Her voice was too high, too squeaky.

“Of course,” Noelle said, “And, please, call me Noelle.”

Olivia, clearly not happy with not being the center of attention anymore, babbled something and tossed her stuffed tiger at Noelle’s feet.

Noelle picked it up and walked over to the pack and play. “I believe you dropped this, Miss Olivia.” She held the tiger out to the baby, who grabbed it and then started to chew on one of its legs. Claire winced. It had literally just been on the floor. Noelle didn’t seem the least bit bothered, and just smiled at Olivia’s antics. It was the first time since they’d met in the conference room a couple of weeks ago that she’d shown anything other than professional indifference. An infinitesimal amount of Claire’s tension eased. Nothing major, just enough for her to be able to breathe normally.

“Is there anything you need from us?” Jake hovered near the door, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. Even all casual and unsure he was so damn hot, it should be illegal.

Noelle shook her head. “I’m just going to have a look around and ask you a few questions. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Jake said, thrusting one of his hands through his hair. His shoulders were so tense, Claire was sure they were going to ache for hours after this was over.

“You can go back to doing whatever you were doing. Just pretend I’m not here.” Noelle opened her notebook and pulled out a pen. She scratched some notes.

The urge to laugh bubbled up inside Claire, but she strangled it before she it could escape. Like they were supposed to just go back to watching television and doing the dishes. Like they weren’t both currently so high strung, a good stiff breeze would snap them in half.

Jake looked at her and she could tell by every tense line on his handsome face, he was thinking exactly the same thing.

Noelle wandered into the kitchen, glancing around, making notes. The scratch of her pen against the paper made Claire’s back teeth vibrate. Her skin felt suddenly itchy, like it was half a second away from peeling itself off her body and walking away by itself.

The need to do something, to be useful, welled up inside her. She glanced around. The house was already spotless. She’d spent all morning mopping and wiping and scrubbing. If you looked close enough, you’d probably be able to see your reflection in the linoleum on the kitchen floor.

Jake glanced around, obviously at a loss for what to do too. Finally, he walked over to the pack and play and scooped Olivia up. She laughed and clapped her hands and then patted Jake’s cheek. He made a growling noise and pretended to bite her fingers, which made her laugh again. He flopped onto the couch and picked up the remote, turning on the television and flipping through the channels until he found a hockey game.

Claire contemplated joining them, because she really liked hockey, and getting to cuddle on the couch with Olivia, but she was too wound up. She’d never be able to sit still for any length of time.

Instead, she wandered into the kitchen. She wasn’t exactly keeping tabs on Noelle, but she wasn’t not, either. She may be a not so good cook, but she was a pretty good baker. And when she was stressed, she baked. So, brownies it was this afternoon.

Noelle glanced at her, and then continued with her looking around and her note taking. Her spine stiffened slightly, but Claire wasn’t about to even attempt to dissect whatever the hell that meant.

Claire snapped on the oven to pre-heat, and then pulled a mixing bowl out of the cabinet. At home, she had her mom’s old stand mixer, which she loved. Every time she used it, she felt a connection to her mom. For some reason, even though she’d never met the woman, it made her feel closer to her. Here, there was only a small—but expensive brand—hand mixer. It would have to do.

She pulled out the butter and eggs from the fridge and then went over to the pantry and grabbed the flour, cocoa powder and sugar. Mrs. C was nothing if not thorough. As soon as she’d found out Claire and Jake were moving in here, she’d had all the staples stocked.

That was one of the things Claire loved about her the most. No matter what, if you were family, she always had your back. Claire knew Mrs. C didn’t really approve of what she and Jake were doing—not that Claire could blame her because she had her doubts about the ethics and rationality of it all herself—but it didn’t stop her from helping them in any way she could.

She measured out the butter and then popped it into the microwave to melt. She’d made this recipe so many times, she had it memorized. It was so gooey and delicious, and perfect for those too sad for anything else days. She’d probably made it a thousand times over the last few years.

“When did you two move in together?”

Claire’s heart catapulted into the stratosphere. While she hadn’t exactly forgotten that Noelle was still poking around the kitchen, she hadn’t expected her to actually ask a question.

“Umm, a… a c-couple of weeks ago.” The stuttering squeak did not exude confidence, but there was nothing Claire could do about it now.

“Hmm.” Noelle’s hum was the non-committal kind, but it sent alarm bells ringing in Claire’s head. There was something about it she didn’t like. The need to defend herself, defend her and Jake, overwhelmed her.

“It was just that, when you asked at our interview, we decided it made the most sense to finally… you know… take the plunge.” Oh, Jesus, why did she say that? She sounded like an idiot. Take the plunge? Really?