Page 26 of Fake It For Him

I arched a brow at him as I leaned back. “What’s the matter, Finn? If you have something to say, say it.”

He bristled. “Fine. I will. I do have something to say.”

Before he could go ahead and say it though, Freya cut him off. She scowled at us, the expression in her eyes turning pleading. “Knock it off, guys. Please? Can’t we just enjoy a nice dinner together?”

“Freya’s right,” my mother said, her cheeks a little paler and her expression a little more weary than it had been before. “Let’s keep it civil, shall we? We have guests and it’s been a long time since we’ve all been around the same table. Let’s just try to enjoy it.”

My dad glared daggers at me—because it was always my fucking fault—but I was surprised when I felt a hand on my leg this time. Ella’s fingers dragged up until they reached my own, and she linked our hands together, giving mine a gentle squeeze.

I thought that would be it, but she didn’t let go until dinner was served. It was then that it occurred to me that with her here, it was the first time in a long time that I had any support whatsoever around this table.

With her here, I didn’t feel like a lone wolf in my own family home. It was a surprisingly good feeling, and one I strangely wished I could cling to when she released my hand to pick up her cutlery. This faking thing really was just making for one surprise after another, but so far, the most surprising thing of it all was that it had mostly been good. And that was the one thing I hadn’t quite been prepared for.

14

ELLA

After a rather emotional dinner that had started out well but had ended on a strained note, we said goodbye to Calan’s family and headed back to the guest house. He was tense at my side as we crossed the grounds, and as soon as he slammed the door behind us, he started venting, blowing off steam as he undressed.

The former, I had expected. The latter? Not so much.

“God, my brother is such a fucking asshole.” He unbuttoned his shirt almost violently, shrugging it off and dropping it right there on the floor. “He’s always thought that he’s better than me. The better son. The better brother. It’s such bullshit. I let Freya ask you questions, but as soon as I do the same, I’m the dick who has to back off.”

He unbuckled his belt with a forceful yank, ripping it free of the loops and dropping it a few paces away from his shirt. We seemed to be making our way to the living room, but I was following him almost completely blindly.

While he was wearing slacks and an undershirt, he’d revealed enough of himself that I couldn’t help but admire every swell of muscle and every flex of those muscles as he moved. Every movement was underscored by aggravation and tension, but damn.

He was ripped. And gorgeous. And trouble.

Such big trouble, and yet, I’m still staring at him.

Shoving both hands into those thick dark locks, he pushed it back and held it, gripping the top of his head. He paced in front of the window. The fireplace had been lit while we’d been out, and it was warm and toasty in here, reminding me way too much of that night in Edinburgh and everything that had happened between us in my room.

My memories of what had happened after that night weren’t so great, but the night itself had been incredible. The things he did to me. The pleasure he made me feel…

“I mean, the way he was up my ass at dinner was just so fucking uncalled for,” he ranted. “I haven’t seen him in almost a year. I showed up with a girl of my own and his girl wasn’t even there. Why posture like that? Why try to⁠—”

“Does he have a reason to be?” I asked, getting the feeling that whatever Calan had done to save him from his own mistake hadn’t been as righteous as he made it sound earlier.

He swung those dark, angry eyes to mine and narrowed them. “Does he have a reason to be a gigantic dick?”

“Yes,” I said simply. “Did he have a reason to posture like that? To say the things he did? It didn’t seem to be coming from nowhere, and in my experience, people don’t just act like that unless they’ve got good reason.”

He kept eyeing me, but he didn’t say anything. His tall, broad frame was practically buzzing with tension, the look in his eyes guarded.

As I stared right back at him, I shrugged. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’m sure someone will by the time the wedding rolls around. Of course, if it catches me off guard, we’re going to have to have the obligatory fight about it.”

Calan sighed, his shoulders still square when he finally came out with it. “I fucked his fiancée.”

My heart lurched before it started racing, my mouth dropping open. “You did what?”

“Four years ago, I was in Edinburgh for his stag party.” He turned his back to me, strode over to the window, and perched himself on the edge of the wide sill. Bringing his gaze back to mine, he inhaled deeply. “He was engaged to a girl he’d been with for a few years. A few weeks before the wedding, he, his buddies, and I went to Edinburgh to party and see the original distillery my grandfather built. Our legacy.”

“The place where it all started,” I said softly, the events of that night suddenly starting to make a lot more sense to me. “So what happened?”

“The rest of our family came with us. My dad paid all the expenses, and the bride and her friends were there too. It was supposed to be this big blowout, but also a chance to show off where we’d come from, you know?”

I nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of that kind of thing. I didn’t know anyone was rich enough to actually do it, but sure.”