Page 1 of Faking Forever
Prologue
Day1
McKenna Hawthorne-Jenson couldn’t quite believe that they’d actually gone through with this farce.
She stared at the handsome man who stood smiling beside her and felt a disorienting sense of panic swell in her chest. She never panicked. Truthfully, she rarely felt much of anything. She was so accustomed to maintaining a tight rein on her feelings that she barely recognized the burgeoning bubble of emotion clawing its way up into her throat from her churning stomach as absolute terror.
Kenny had married a man she onlykindof liked andsortof respected. And she’d married him for the worst possible reason.
She felt sick…but she’d felt sick so often lately she wasn’t sure if this time was because of this ill-advised jaunt into matrimony. Or because of the other,realreason she was standing beside this man with a fake smile plastered on her lips while dressed in an uncomfortably snug, mermaid-style wedding dress that wasn’t at all to her taste. The gown had sat perfectly at her last fitting, but that wasno longer the case. Two of the concealed buttons in the back couldn’t close at all, and five more were hanging on for dear life.
Smith, her brand, spanking new husband, placed a warm, comforting hand on the small of her back and lowered his head to drop a whisper in her ear.
“You okay? You look a little green around the gills.”
The gesture probably looked very romantic to their wedding guests, most of whom stood staring at them with misty smiles. A few evenawwed.
She kept what she was sure was a manic-looking grin on her lips as she offered him a succinct one-word reply, “Nauseous.”
“You want to take a break?”
A break? Kenny almost laughed at the ludicrous question. As if taking a break from one’s own wedding was even a possibility. She swallowed down her nausea and shook her head.
“I’m fine,” she informed him from between tightly clenched teeth while she clung to that smile as if her life depended on it.
“What about a sip of water? I could?—”
“I’mfine!” Her curt response cut him off and his face was troubled as he dipped his chin in a short nod and found his own—clearly fake—smile for their overenthusiastic photographer.
His hand fell away and she mourned its loss.
She shouldn’t have snapped at him. It was uncharacteristic of her. And she once again reflected on how she barely recognized herself anymore. She was an emotional mess, swinging wildly between tears, deranged laughter, and baffling rage from one minute to the next. It was frightening. Like she was losing herself within this swirling morass of messy, complicated, and often contradictoryfeelings.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered from between stiff lips, her face still frozen in that unconvincing rictus.
He once again lifted his strong, capable-looking hand, and it hovered between them uncertainly for a moment before he dropped it without touching her.
“This isn’t easy,” he said, the deep, soothing rasp of his voice washing over her like warm honey. She swallowed and felt the muscles in her face relax as her smile settled into something softer, gentler.
Smith wasn’t prone to exaggeration or hyperbole, but that was an understatement even by his austere standards. Kenny slanted a jaundiced glance at him, her silence speaking volumes.
He tugged his full lower lip between even white teeth as his concerned gaze swept over her face once more. His green eyes were piercing between those thick, fair lashes and she shifted uncomfortably beneath the weight of that stare.
“Sorry to interrupt,” the photographer said with a knowing little grin, clearly thinking he was interrupting some intimate, newlywed moment. “But we need just a few more shots with the parents.”
Smith released an impatient exhalation from his nostrils and glared at the man, whose smile immediately faded.
“We need a moment longer.” Despite the obvious irritation in his eyes, his voice remained quiet and neutral.
“No, we don’t,” Kenny denied. “I’m fine. Let’s just get it over with, okay?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, his brow lowering, as he gave her a deeply unhappy stare. His broad shoulders shifted restlessly and he dipped his clenched jaw in reluctant assent.
“After you,” he invited and stepped aside, all sulky and sexy and snarly.
Kenny discreetly ran her damp palms over the elaborately beaded bodice of her dress and walked around his bulk to where his parents and her father stood waiting. Their siblingswere also milling off to the side, clearly waiting for their turn at the photos.
God, what an unnecessary spectacle this was.
