Too Goode to be True (Love Hashtagged #2) (8 page)

Brad lay in bed, inhaling the familiar scent of fabric softener and the floral shampoo Gwen wore. Last night, with her pressed against him, he thought he’d be awake for hours. Though he’d turned down her offer for sex, it didn’t stop him from wanting her—reacting to her—once she was in his arms.

She drifted off quickly, and the steady rhythm of her breathing lulled him into sleep as well. He had a vague memory of her slipping from bed and telling him to go back to sleep several hours ago. A glance at the bedside clock told him it was almost eight. He hadn’t slept this late in ages. He should probably get back to his own place and figure out what he was doing for the day.

A Post-it note was stuck to his slacks, which he’d draped over the back of a chair last night. A block letter scrawl read,
I hope you slept well. Thank you again for staying. Make yourself at home, lock the door on your way out, and I’ll talk to you soon
.

There was a scribble underneath it, as if she’d written something else then blacked it out. He smiled at the note, tucked it into his wallet, and pulled on his clothes. While he was curious about Gwen and had an unfamiliar itch to learn as much as possible about her, he wasn’t interested in poking around her house while she wasn’t there.

As he headed down the driveway to where he’d parked on the street, he checked his phone. Three missed calls from Emily, within minutes of each other, no voicemail left. Ambivalence pumped through him as he slid into the car, carried on adrenaline and irritation. She learned a long time ago he responded right away if there was any chance Drea might be in trouble. Which meant, if she wanted him to call her back, she’d leave vague messages or none at all.

He always responded, despite the pattern, because he knew the one time he ignored her would be the day he regretted it. Instead of starting the car, he called her back.

“Took you long enough.” Emily’s greeting was terse. If she wasn’t panicking, Drea was okay. Probably.

“I was sleeping.”

“Is that what you’re calling it now?”

He scrubbed his face. Maybe he should have gotten some coffee first. “What do you want?”

“I’m not sure.” She dragged out each word. “Either to congratulate or console you. Which is more appropriate?”

No
maybe
about it. He needed a double shot of espresso. “Can’t say I know what you’re talking about.”

“Several days ago, you were engaged to a woman no one had ever met. Except by that night,
it didn’t work out.
Now my baby girl tells me you’re calling this woman your fiancée again.” When Emily summed it up that way, it made the last few days feel like they’d passed both in a blur and at a snail’s pace.

“We had a misunderstanding. It’s all cleared up now. In fact, later today, we’re going to pick out announcements and talk about a photographer.”

“I’m certain you know one who can get some
lovely
shots of her. Not sure they’ll be appropriate for wedding announcements though. Or are you paying her enough to get dressed for this engagement?”

Irritation shifted to white-hot fury and knocked his thoughts out of whack. He couldn’t swallow the impulse to rip into Emily for all-but calling Gwen a whore. “We didn’t meet through work, not that any of my models deserve your disdain or judgement. Gwen is an amazing woman I love and adore, and if you imply anything like that again—”

“I wasn’t
implying
. I thought I was pretty direct.”

He gritted his teeth so hard, pain stabbed through his jaw. “Why did you call?”

“Whatever you’re up to, it’s not going to help you get Drea. The moment the judge finds out you’re bringing a person your daughter barely knows into your life long term …” Her sigh was dramatic, and he suspected she was smirking.

“I’m glad you think that.” He kept his tone firm, despite the doubt her words evoked. “I have plans this morning.”

“Sure.” She disconnected before he could.

Brad dropped the phone into the passenger seat and pulled into traffic, mind racing ahead a million miles a minute. It was early enough Sunday, there weren’t many cars on the road, so he operated almost on auto-pilot toward his condo. Emily was grasping at straws with a call like that. She saw the writing on the wall and knew she was about to lose her biggest advantage in this custody battle.

The judge had said—been very clear about it—he wouldn’t let Drea stay with Brad even half the time, because Brad had a volatile home life. Traveling too much for work. A different girlfriend every week. That kind of environment was horrible for a young girl. Especially being surrounded by
rail-thin women with serious self-esteem issues.
Simply recalling the judge’s words irritated him.

The engagement to Gwen had to be the solution. The only way he could think of, to give the court tangible evidence he wasn’t a vagrant with money and an underwear model fetish. Ten minutes later, as he pulled into his parking garage, he was still working to convince himself of his own logic. The moment he was in his condo, he dialed another number.

“It’s not noon yet, and it’s a weekend.” Ned, his attorney and friend from college, never bothered with formalities when Brad called. “I’m billing you quadruple.”

“You don’t know I’m calling about work. Maybe I have extra tickets to the game.”

“Since you’re not a baseball fan, and nothing else is in season right now? I doubt it.”

“Busted.” Brad dropped into his favorite easy chair with a loud
oompf.
“It’s about my custody case.”

“Of course. I saw Emily filed the paperwork Friday. I won’t have more information for several days.”

“I know. This is a quick—I hope—conversation. I’m engaged.”

“Are you a fucking idiot? Why the hell would you do that?”

While Brad hadn’t expected hugs and champagne unless he was buying, Ned’s response hadn’t registered on his radar of possibilities. “Because we’re in love.” Each time he said it, he expected the lie to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. Instead, it kept getting easier.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s precious. Hopefully she loves you more than Emily did. It’s still not a good enough reason though, especially now.”

“What about proving to the judge I have a stable home life?”

“It sounds good, but the logic doesn’t play out.” Ned’s voice was muffled for a moment, while he talked to someone in the background, and then he was back. “How long have you known this girl?”

“Ages.” Brad cringed at the weak response. He and Gwen would need to figure out that detail.

“Of course. And how long has Drea known her?”

Brad couldn’t lie about that one. “Less than a week. I didn’t want to introduce them if there wasn’t anything there.”

“Exactly.” Ned said the single word as if it held the answers of the universe. “And the judge is probably going to see it the same way. Instead of proving you’re stable and dependable, this shows you’re impulsive and willing to bring strangers into your kid’s world on a whim.”

That couldn’t be right, so why did it make sense? “In that case, I’ll break it off.” As soon as the words choked from his throat, they left a gaping hole in his chest. What the fuck?

“No. God, no. In fact, I don’t care if the two of you decide in the next hour you hate each other’s guts and want to kill each other. You can’t break this off.”

The pieces clicked for Brad. “Because that’d make it look worse now that people know.”

“Smart man. I knew there was a reason we were still friends. I’ll work with this, but don’t expect it to be easy. I hope this fiancée of yours is worth it.”

“Without a doubt.” He’d need to play this part for all it was worth. And never forget that’s all it was—a part.

****

Gwen hadn’t been able to shake her smile all morning. Last night was wonderful, and waking up to Brad had been amazing. She was even considering yielding on the domain. Not selling it to him; she wasn’t ready to surrender her site because she was having a little fun. But there was a lot of marketing potential in cross-promoting the two sites. Another win-win. The notion knocked a nagging thought loose in her mind, and she cringed at the reminder of their other recent business arrangement. The relationship itself didn’t leave a foul taste in her mouth. It was the just-business aspect of it.

Regardless. She wanted to talk to Brad about some kind of I-link-you-you-link-me thing for the sites, but more elegant.

Her grin threatened to split her cheeks when Brad walked into the diner. He hovered a few feet back, while she delivered the food she held. The moment her hands were free and she drew within his reach, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her close, and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss flowed over her skin and tingled all the way to her toes. She dug her fingers into his chest, looking for purchase. A tiny whimper tore from her throat.
Wow.

“What was that for?” She forced the question past her breathlessness. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Still holding her, he nuzzled her neck and nibbled at her earlobe. “If we’re going to put on a show”—his voice was only meant for her ears—“we may as well start now.”

Her cheer evaporated, but she managed to keep her smile glued in place. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said in a normal tone. “I missed you.” She struggled with the words, not sure if she meant them or was acting.

He intertwined his fingers with hers and followed her back to the counter, not letting go until she had to break away to pick up another order from the kitchen. He dropped into an empty seat—not that there were a lot of them. The place wouldn’t empty out until she closed the doors in a couple hours. Even then, the stragglers always took their time finishing and leaving. If she got out of the place before four any Sunday, she was surprised. Normally, she loved it. With Brad here and her confusion at her own reactions, she wondered if she’d last till then.

She paused in front of him. “Can I get you anything, hon?” The term of endearment felt forced, despite being one she used regularly at work.

“My usual.”

That was taking pretending too far. She tripped through her thoughts of their brief time together, trying not to look like she was stalling. “Chicken sandwich with avocado, Swiss, and bacon, chips instead of fries?”

“Have them go lighter on the mayo this time.”

She had no idea if she guessed wrong. Just to spite him for pulling a stunt like that, she was tempted to serve him the same thing every time he came in. “Coming right up.”

“Wait.” He bent across the bar and grabbed her fingers. “If you’re free after work, can I take you ring shopping? I’d love to finally let you pick the perfect one.”

Her stomach flipped on itself, and she wasn’t sure if it was from his touch or the suggestion.

When she was little, she dreamed of getting engaged. It might be part of the reason she started the website—reality hadn’t quite matched the fairytale. That never stopped her from holding onto that little spark of fantasy. She’d meet the perfect guy, he’d propose with candles and roses and champagne, and their engagement would be amazing. Insane but amazing. They’d find the perfect wedding rings and get adorable pictures taken. Maybe they’d exchange Grandma and Grandpa’s rings at the ceremony.

She knew reality rarely worked out that way, and that this wasn’t her only chance. Hell, they weren’t actually getting married, and statistically, even if they did, she’d still have high odds of getting another opportunity to do things differently. A lot of people did marriage more than once. She was lucky she didn’t have to deal with divorce in between.

Somehow the assurance didn’t make her feel better.

Gwen sat at her dining room table, picking at her breakfast and staring at the sparkly engagement ring on her finger. She should finish her toast and get started on her to-do list. Mondays and Tuesdays were her equivalent of the weekend, except it was easier to run errands, because everything was open and most everyone else was at work.

She was still sorting her way through her thoughts. The diamond solitaire shined under the lights, winking at her as she rotated her hand. The gold was bright and untarnished. She wanted to feel elated. In theory she should.
I’m engaged. To a wonderful man. Who didn’t hesitate to buy me one of the nicest rings in the mall jewelry store.

She tried to pick up the tab on the ring or at least split the bill. Brad’s furrowed brow and the ghost of anger that crossed his face at the suggestion made her back down in a way she wasn’t used to. He pointed out he was the groom; he’d buy the rings. And lucky her, the one they picked had been in her size, so she got to wear it home.

Now a myriad of emotions, so jumbled she couldn’t name most, danced in her skull. She should be happy. But this was for show.

But sometimes it felt real.

But that just meant they were doing a good job acting.

The argument grew in volume in her skull, until she had to bite back a scream.

She sighed and pushed away from the table. It was time to stop dancing in circles around something she already knew the answer to, and to use this engagement for its intended purpose, like Brad was—whom she only missed because she’d gotten used to having him around lately. Not because she enjoyed his company, the familiar touches, the way he kissed…

There was one surefire way to distract herself—do the thing she’d put off for a few days now. She grabbed her phone from where it sat next to her hand, taunting her, and dialed George’s number.

“Hey, Sis. I was just thinking about you.” His voice was pleasant and cheerful. Genuine. If he hadn’t spent the last several months trying to fleece her, she’d be tempted to ask if he wanted to meet for lunch. The way they used to.

“I bet.” She couldn’t force the same phoniness into her tone. Pretending was hard enough with Brad.
Except it’s not.
She shook the words aside. “Dreaming of all the places you’ll go on my dime?”

“That’s not fair. The kids need braces. I’d love to take them to Disney World this year. Don’t you want to see your nephews happy?”

She did. She also hated it when he used it as part of his manipulation. They weren’t unhappy now, and he’d taken them to Euro Disney last fall, and they’d both already gotten their orthodontics done. “When you freeze my accounts, no one gets to the money.”

“That’s the point. Can you imagine how disappointed Grandma would be if she saw you wasting your life like this? Working, instead of finding yourself a guy? Cooking for strangers, instead of using her gift to you to take care of your own family?”

His words struck a chord inside her that pinged like an exposed nerve in a tooth, and she cringed. Despite the number of times they had this argument, her reaction never lessened. And as much as doing this left a bitter taste in her mouth, arguing didn’t work. It was time to pretend to concede. “That’s actually why I’m calling.” She tried to make her words as sugary sweetly kind as his. “I’m engaged.”

“What?”

“To an amazing man, who’s got the most brilliant daughter. Fantastic guy. Doesn’t want me working.” Okay, so Brad never said that. And something told her he never would, unless that was what she wanted.
Play the part. Say the lines.
“And I’d love to be able to take her to Universal Studios. She’s the best kid ever. You wouldn’t want your new niece unhappy, would you?”

“You’re full of shit, Gwennie. You can’t claim there’s a guy and a family, and expect this to go away.”

“It’s all real. In fact, I’m also calling to agree to the binding arbitration. Let’s make it happen.” It meant whatever was decided, she had to abide by, even if they still said she wasn’t entitled to the inheritance, but it was the one way to put this to an end. Fast. Besides, this way they didn’t have to hem and haw over what Grandma meant in her will, because Gwen would fit the description.

There was a long pause, enough that Gwen had to check her phone, to make sure they were still connected. Finally, he said, “The sooner the better, right? I’ll talk to you soon, Sis.”

Her response was to hang up. As she set her phone aside, the ring caught her attention again. Shimmery, almost glaring. A new voice joined the others bickering in her head, this one asking if the deception was worth it. She only had one argument for that—if the world wouldn’t let her play fair, she’d go along with their fucked up, fuck-everyone-over rules instead.

A sour pit sank in her gut at the abrupt thought. She scraped her toast into the trash, put her unfinished glass of juice in the fridge, and tried to ignore the acid burning up her throat.

****

Adrenaline coursed through Brad. Every inch of him, from his teeth to his toenails, was on edge. He watched Emily pile Drea into the back of her SUV, buckle her in, then flip him off before she climbed into the driver’s seat.

He had a feeling he might not see Drea much over the next week or two. With any luck, that wouldn’t become a permanent arrangement. He wove his way through the parking garage under the courthouse, and to his car, dialing Gwen along the way. She needed to know this anyway, but he couldn’t ignore the blip of giddiness inside at the thought of talking to her again. It was only Tuesday, but Sunday felt like forever ago. And that Saturday in the mountains might as well have been another lifetime.

She picked up after a couple rings. “Hey. I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh?” He was surprised at the flutter inside.

“Yup. I want to add you on Facebook, so I can change my relationship status.”

“Oh.” Of course. “Are you free right now?”

“Sure. I need your opinion on wedding announcements, anyway. Have to pick the right stock and decide on a location for photos.”

She was getting into it. Something to be grateful for. “I’m at the courthouse, so I’m only about ten minutes from your place. I’m going to stop by.”

“Great. Fantastic. Ooh, bring dinner. You know what I like.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear enough to study it, as if the scrutiny might travel down the line and give him answers. Did she have someone over she was doing this for, or was this her way of getting back at him for ordering his
usual
in the diner last night? It had sounded cleverer in his head. “Great. Give me half an hour in that case.”

Maybe he should visit home first, change, and give himself sometime to unwind. The hearing today still raced like tiny jolts through his veins, and he need to talk to Gwen in person. This wasn’t over-the-phone news.

A little while later, he parked at the curb in front of her house, grabbed the Chinese takeout from the seat next to him, and walked to her front door. A smile—something that had eluded him all day—slipped in place when she answered. She took the food and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m glad you called. I missed you.”

He couldn’t help scanning the room behind her. “Are you the only one here?”

“Yes?” She tugged him inside, set dinner on the table, and spun back to face him. “Are you all right?”

Impulse snaked through him. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and crushed his mouth to hers. When she melted into his touch, some of his tension ebbed. She draped her arms around his neck, and kissed back hungry and needy, her tongue making way for his and dancing around it. When they broke apart, she didn’t pull away. “I’m better now.” He settled his cheek next to hers, his voice low.

“We don’t have an audience in here.”

He cringed at the reminder. “I know. Practice, right?

She stiffened in his arms, then nodded toward the couch. “Sit. Let’s talk. Tell me what’s got you strung out.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Only to me. How’d the hearing go? Is that what this is about?”

“Yes, and it’s complicated.” He dropped onto the sofa, and she hesitated, as if she wasn’t quite sure where to sit. Disappointment coiled inside when she put several inches between them.

“
Complicated
doesn’t sound like
I lost custody
, so it can’t be all bad.”

“It’s not.” He explained to her what Jim had on Sunday. That the engagement might make things look worse instead of better, and that the judge looked like he agreed.

She frowned and leaned away, to rest her weight against the back cushions. “I didn’t mean to cause you complications.”

“No, it’s not a big deal. Besides, I said it in front of Emily first. There’s a hoop or two, but in the long run, I still think it’ll be better.” Jim disagreed, but Brad didn’t see how it could hurt. Except that it required the one thing neither he nor Gwen wanted. Her getting closer to Drea. “Next time I officially have custody, two weekends from now, the court is going to have someone observe the three of us together. They want to make sure your being in my life is good for Drea as well.”

“I see.” Her flat expression matched her tone. “So, we’re playing house for a real audience.”

“Exactly. We’ll do it at my place. It’s up to you if you spend the night or not. They asked that you be there, so they could see all of us.” It sounded so clinical when he laid it out. Which, it should be, but that didn’t mean he liked making it into a business meeting.

“No problem. I’ll be there.” She hopped from the couch, as if ejected. “Do you want to eat? That sweet-and-sour smells so good. That’s what that is? Good guess on your part. Love it. I’ll grab plates. I know it’s only five, but I’ve been going all day, and I skipped lunch.” She moved as she talked, grabbing plates from the cupboard, opening a drawer… “Do you use chopsticks, or do you want a fork?”

“Chopsticks.” His tension returned, as he watched her ratchet into something so fidgety. He joined her in the kitchen and took the plates from her, set them on the counter, and then wrapped his arms around her waist and intertwined his fingers against the small of her back. “What’s wrong?”

She rested her hands on his arms and let out a long sigh. “I’m struggling with this. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how else to put it. One minute we’re passion and heat, and the next it’s cool, and you’re insisting it’s all for show. I don’t know if I’m that good an actress. I keep second-guessing myself.”

“What if it were real?” He’d meant to say
we’ll get through it, I promise,
but liked the sound of this a lot more. “I don’t mean the engagement, though I’m not taking that off the table.” He was shooting from the hip, and so far none of it felt wrong.

Some of the tightness in her frame seemed to vanish. “Explain.”

Yeah, Brad. Explain yourself.
Might as well keep talking and see what came out. “I really enjoy your company. If we’d met under different circumstances, I’d want another date with you. Or two. Or ten. I’m not saying
let’s actually get married
, or that we should insist we won’t, or anything like that. I’m saying”—a lot without saying anything, apparently—“it’d be nice if when I called you my girlfriend, I knew it was true.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled when she grinned. “Are you asking me to go steady?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

She held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers in front of his face. “Do I get to keep the ring?”

He planted a kiss on each of her knuckles. “Of course.”

“So, not to ruin a sweet moment”—the edge vanished from her voice—“but how does this work? We’re really only dating, but in public we still put on the engaged front?”

“Ideally.” It was still a deception, but how he felt about her, wasn’t. After only a week, he wanted more of Gwen in his life. He wasn’t willing to commit to
until death do us part
—not officially—but they both knew what this was.

She met his gaze. “I do like the idea of spending more time together. I think I can do that.”

“You think?” It was easy to let the teasing slide into his voice, now that one stress was dealt with. “What do I do to make you certain?”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and shifted her weight, rubbing her hip against his dick. He hardened in an instant at the playful contact, and the way her mouth twitched in amusement said she felt it. “That’s a hard question.” She dragged out the words, as if considering them. “If we’re spending more time together, I may start to miss my other boyfriends.”

A familiar pang settled into his chest, but he had a feeling it wasn’t what it sounded like “Boyfriends? Plural?”

“Yup. Bob One, Bob Junior, Bob the oh-my-God-something-that-big-has-to-be-a-novelty…”

He glided his hands down, to cup her ass, and pulled her closer. “My competition is a series of vibrators?”

“I wouldn’t say competition.” She trailed her finger along his chest, barely touching him. “They tend to be pretty narrow-minded in their focus. But they do perform certain services I’ve come to appreciate.”

“I can reach a lot more places at once.” This was so much better than trying to decipher a series of false cues. He pressed his body to hers, erection digging into her, her heat taunting him. When he dragged one hand along the inside of her thigh, below her buttcheek, she whimpered and ground into him.