Page 35 of Just (Fake) Married (Calloways vs. McGraws #1)

TWENTY-FOUR

HARMONY

I only ever took one and a half days off a week. Sunday, the store was closed, and Wednesday morning my mom came in and worked a shift behind the register.

Usually, those were days I got other shit done, but since I’d moved out of the old house and into the Swinging D, I’d felt like I was removed from my life. My laundry was done. My meals were cooked. The house was cleaned.

With nothing really to do, and desperately needing to get away from my over active libido which flared up anytime Ethan crossed my mind, I decided I’d tackle the rooms above the store.

We’d been using the four rooms up here, the galley kitchen, living room, bathroom and good-sized bedroom as an extra attic for years.

There was so much stuff up here, it was overwhelming.

Worse. It was apparent the three gigantic garbage bags I’d brought were woefully inadequate.

“Hey,” a voice said. Jenny jumped up and so did Bruce.

Had I conjured him? And if I had, how did I make him go away?

I told myself every night I didn’t go to his room how strong willed I was. How badass I was that I could have a little fun, then walk away. Like I could take it or leave it.

But every night, as I lay in bed, I had to admit I really wanted to take it.

Again and again and again.

“Over here,” I said, hoping my voice sounded casual.

“I brought you a refill,” he said, walking into the galley kitchen. He carried a travel mug of coffee and a water bottle.

“I try not to drink any after noon,” I said. “But thank you.”

“Okay,” he said, and took a sip of the coffee.

Somehow, that was even too intimate. Him drinking the coffee he’d made for me.

“Water, then.” He set the water bottle on the kitchen counter.

Jenny and Bruce made their way over to him and the asshole pulled a liver treat for Jenny from his jeans pocket.

She, of course, went bonkers, tail wagging. Nose sniffing. Facing him like she could see him. Bruce, for her part, was pecking at the knee of his jeans again, her little sign of affection.

Great. Even my animals were feeling the intimacy.

“What are you doing here?” I said, proud of myself for sounding casual.

The box I’d opened was full of to-go coffee cupss from the café. Cups I would bet one million dollars my sister had forgotten were here. I closed the box and carried it over to an empty space by the kitchen door. That would be Amity’s stack.

He shrugged. “Just stopped in to say hey and your mom said you were here. I thought I could help you clean out some of this stuff.”

“You don’t have to,” I said quickly. Spending even more time with Ethan McGraw was not a solution to my problem. Especially when he was being nice.

I opened another box and it was full of cocktail napkins stamped with The Last Stand. Perfect. I put the box next to the other one.

Bliss’s pile.

He grabbed my elbow and my momentum turned me towards him. I bumped into his body before stepping back.

“Hey I don’t want us to be awkward,” he said. “Around each other. I’m thinking maybe we should have talked more…after.”

“After what?” I asked, being intentionally obtuse.

“You know.” And then to my horror, he re-enacted the finger gun moment I’d left him with that night.

Immediately, I reached for his hands to make him stop doing that motion.

He chuckled and I glared at him.

“I’m not the smoothest when it comes to…” my voice trailed off.

“Multiple orgasms?” he teased.

“Ethan,” I scolded him. “I’m serious. All of this casual sex inside the parameters of a fake marriage is new to me.”

“It’s new to me, too,” he said, stepping towards me.

We didn’t touch in the middle of all these boxes, but the energy this guy threw out, the focus and the heat. It bounced around the room, curling in the edges, making everything smaller. Tighter. This guy could make a football stadium intimate.

“You want the truth?” he offered. “I haven’t had a date in about a year. The last time I tried to hook up with someone, my pager went off and I had to leave.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said.

He laughed. “Why not?”

“You’re a hot doctor. I think you walk into a bar and women throw themselves at you.”

He stepped closer again. Still not touching, but he reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear, his fingertips trailing over my ear. “I don’t walk into a lot of bars,” he said.

“Well, I’ve seen the shows, you know,” I lifted my chin and his fingers touched my jawline. Breathless desire rippled up and down my body. “Those supply rooms get a lot of action.”

“Those shows aren’t real,” he smiled at me like he hadn’t heard that a million times. He smiled at me like he was charmed by me. Like he could stand there with his hand on my face for ages. For as long as I let him.

“My boyfriend dumped me. That was the last guy I was with.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Five years.” The truth just came out. “That’s sort of why I made it a resolution this year.”

I hadn’t been touched in five years. Now that I’d opened my mouth, everything came out. “And he wasn’t…great in bed. You know? He acted like the things I wanted or needed were too…much. It got easier just to pretend.”

“Pretend?”

“Fake it. Then he cheated on me.” Shit. I was spilling all my secrets.

“What an absolute fuckhead.”

I laughed. “He was, kind of.”

“No wonder you were so hungry,” he whispered. Only he didn’t say it in a way that made me feel embarrassed for being that needy.

His hand on my cheek speared into my hair. He leaned forward like he was going to kiss my lips and I tensed. I don’t know why not kissing mattered, but it did. It was like putting sandbags against a raging river. It probably wasn’t going to do anything, but I had to try, right?

As if he knew what I was thinking, he tilted his head at the last moment and kissed my neck. My breath was shaky and out came a low moan I couldn’t hide if I tried.

My brain and body were flooded with images of him. Of us. I felt, impossibly, that low churn in my belly, like I could come just from this. From the promise and the threat of him.

“Safe kisses,” he muttered, running his nose against the spot he’d just claimed with his mouth.

The downstairs door to the apartment squealed open. “Harmony?” my mom yelled up. “You have a visitor coming up.”

The stairs creaked and Ethan winked at me and stepped away, finding some boxes to stand behind like he was hiding his erection.

His inability to control his reaction made me feel better.

Half my brain was mush, so it took me a second to realize who was suddenly standing at the top of the stairs.

Marion Blackfeather.

“Marion, what are you doing here?”

“Your mom said you were up here,” she said. She wore a black puffer jacket, sweatpants and an unreadable expression.

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “But shouldn’t you be at school?”

Marion looked over at Ethan and then back at me. “We have our own student committee for the Feud Day Festival and I wanted to give you an update.”

I blinked. “On what?”

“On our plans for the day,” she grabbed her phone and tapped on it and the phone in my pocket buzzed.

I pulled it out and had an airdrop from Marion.

“In addition to what we talked about at the town meeting, our team of students usually support the re-enactments by providing directions to the tourists to each of the spots. This year, we’re creating a QR code for a digital map, so that will free us up to focus on other activities. ”

“Wow,” I said, looking down at this list. “What a fantastic idea.”

“We need a sign-up sheet for the 5K run we can put up on the community board in town. You have that ready, yet?” she asked, looking over at Ethan.

“I…uh…no?”

Marion frowned, clearly not happy with Ethan’s lack of attention, which made me smile. The surgeon being called out by the hyper-achieving high school student.

“The official committee meets tomorrow night,” I said, stepping in to save Ethan. “We’ll make sure we handle all the details.”

“Yes, but it’s important that we have participation from the McGraws,” Marion said, looking at Ethan. “All. Of. Them.”

“We’re in,” Ethan said. “I promise.”

“Because April comes up fast,” Marion told him. Her phone buzzed. “I have to get back to school.” She tucked her phone back in her pocket and then seemed to take a good long look at us. “What are you doing with all this stuff, anyway?”

“Cleaning out the apartment,” I said.

“Why?” she asked.

“I might move in here,” I said, and the instant it was out of my mouth I knew I’d said the wrong thing. Oh shit. I was so bad at lying.

Marion looked at me. “Don’t you live with him?” she asked, pointing at Ethan. “Your husband.”

“Yes. Of course. But we might…both might move in here.” I said with a bright smile. “Like a second home.”

“A second home? In Last Hope Gulch? When you already live on the Swinging D?” she asked me like I was nuts.

“I like the commute?” I said, without much conviction.

Marion shifted her weight to one hip and gave us both the stink eye.

“You know, whether we like it or not, this town is all about your families,” she said, her eyes flashing.

“It could be about other things, but it’s not.

So you two being married, that’s like a big deal for everyone.

But if you’re lying to us about any of this… that would be really shitty.”

Shot right through the heart by a teenager. Every word she said was true and the responsibility and the guilt were heaped back on my shoulders.

Marion took the steps back down and we both heard the door to the store close behind her.

“I really don’t like lying to everyone,” I muttered.

But Ethan wasn’t paying attention, instead he was looking thoughtfully at the steps.

“She reminds me of you at that age. Marion,” he said. “Headstrong, opinionated. Organized. That was you in high school.”

“I didn’t think you ever really noticed me back then. Except for that one night.”