Page 55 of Make-Believe Match

“I thought I was too.”

“But you’re not?”

Fully hard, I pressed my cock against her perfect round ass. “Congratulations, you married a man who can admit when he was wrong.”

She laughed. “Lucky, lucky me.”

* * *

The following morning, when Lexi got in the shower, I dragged myself out of bed, put a pot of coffee on, and opened up my laptop at the kitchen table. While I waited for the coffee to brew, I skimmed through my inbox and noticed I had an email from a guy in Los Angeles who worked for a west coast property development and management company. He’d offered me a job after I finished my M.B.A. at Harvard, but in the end, I’d gone for the job at Hotchkiss in Boston, because I thought there was more possibility for quicker advancement.

The subject line said L.A. Opportunity. I opened it up.

Hey Devlin,

Heard a rumor that you left Hotchkiss and wondered if you might consider heading west. I’ve watched your career over the last few years, and I’m very impressed with your performance. I’m now the head of HR in our Santa Monica office, and I’m interviewing candidates for Senior Account Representative. We could go internal, but I think you’d be a great fit. I remember how you said you hated those east coast winters, so I’m attaching a pic of what would be your corner office view. Interested?

Let’s talk.

Rian Richman

For a second, I was surprised the news that I’d parted ways with Hotchkiss had traveled so fast—I’d only quit three days ago—but then again, it sounded like Richman had been keeping tabs on me. Plus, this profession could sometimes feel like a small world, where gossip spread quickly, rumors flourished, and everyone knew everyone else’s business. Which meant, of course, that if he hadn’t heard about the circumstances of my leaving (including the fact that I’d thrown a punch at a co-worker), he soon would.

I opened the attached photos and groaned. It was fucking beautiful. Palm trees. Mountains. Blue skies. The Pacific Ocean with its white sandy beaches. The iconic Santa Monica Pier.

There were definite benefits, I thought, as I poured coffee into a cup. I could hike the canyons. Learn to surf. Drive a convertible year-round. I’d be closer to Dash. We could hang out all the time. Maybe even live together.

I’d never intended to stay in Boston forever anyway. I always figured I’d move up the ladder as far as I could at Hotchkiss and then move on to something bigger and better. I felt no real attachment to the city—only to my work with Camp Lemonade. My chest caved a little bit at the thought of leaving those kids behind, but I couldn’t stay in one place just for them. I had to keep moving. Keep reaching for the next thing.

If you stayed still, you got rusty.

As I sat there sipping my first cup of coffee and looking out Lexi’s kitchen window at the evergreens, I became convinced that a sweeping change of scenery was exactly what I needed once I finished up here.

Setting the mug aside, I typed out a reply.

Hey Rian,

Good to hear from you. The rumor is true—I’m no longer working for Hotchkiss. Not sure if you’ve heard yet that I left on bad terms, but that’s definitely the case. I won’t be getting any kind of positive review from old Harvey.

That said, I’m definitely interested in the position out west, but I’m currently involved with an interim project in northern Michigan. I’m investing some money and time in the renovation of a resort property, and I’ll need to be on site for at least six months. But I could definitely get away for an interview. Let’s talk dates.

Devlin Buckley

A few minutes after I hit send, Lexi hustled into the kitchen. Dressed for work, her hair in two braids like Sara wore, she grabbed a travel mug from the cupboard and poured herself some coffee. “I’m late,” she said. “I hate being late.”

I stood up. “What can I do for you? Would it help if I drove you to work?”

“Thanks, but no. I’ll just hurry.” She spun around and headed in my direction, bag over one shoulder, travel mug in one hand, car keys in the other. Then she stopped. “Sorry. I don’t know if we do this.”

“Do what?”

“You know. Kiss hello and goodbye. Like a real couple.”

I laughed and snagged her around the waist, pulling her close to me. She looked bright and fresh and beautiful, and she smelled delicious. “Let’s say we do.”

Smiling, she rose up on tiptoe and kissed my lips. “See you this afternoon.”

* * *