Page 3 of His Fake Fiancé

“Sure.” She reached under the counter and grabbed two more bottles. Snapping the caps off with a twist of her wrist, she placed the beers in front of Jake. “That’ll be seven fifty.”

Jake pulled out a ten, placed it on the bar, and slid it toward her. “Keep the change.”

She nodded and gave him a half smile, sliding her gaze down his torso and then back up to his face. “Thanks. I’m Jessie.” She held her hand out.

He slid his hand into hers, giving a squeeze instead of a shake. “Jake. Jake Callahan.”

“Nice to meet you, Jake.”

“You too, Jessie.”

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and he turned his head. Claire stood there, blinking up at him with her big blue eyes. She was standing weird, with her left arm held away from her body, almost as if there was something wrong with her hand. He glanced down at her fingers. The engagement ring sparkled in the terrible light.

Shit, he was engaged.

Well, not really. But he needed everyone to believe it was real. Which meant he needed to keep the flirting to a minimum. Everyone had to think this thing between Claire and him was real. It was the key to him keeping custody of his daughter.

“Hey, baby,” he said, wrapping his arm around Claire’s shoulders and pulling her into his side. She stiffened, which was weird, because normally she wasn’t bothered when he hugged her. “Jessie, this is Claire, my fiancé.”

Claire turned into a block of marble under his arm. What was going on with her?

Jessie smiled. “Hey.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jessie.” Claire’s voice sounded weird. Sort of squeaky and high, like she was nervous or something.

“Is something wrong, babe?” He gave her shoulders a squeeze, but none of the tension left her.

Claire shook her head and slipped out from under his arm. “You know what? I’m not feeling well. I’m going to head home.”

“Oh, sure,” he said, and then glanced at the beers he’d just bought. No worries. Someone here would easily take them. It wasn’t like he didn’t know like ninety percent of the people in the place. “Let me just find a home for these and then we’ll go.”

“No, no.” Claire gave another shake of her head. “It’s fine, you stay. I saw Linc over there. I’ll get him to take me home.” She pointed over her shoulder at the empty stage, but he glanced over and saw her brother in that general direction.

Linc was eyeing him and Claire in a way that made Jake’s shoulders tense. While he liked Linc well enough—as well as Claire’s two other brothers, Brock and Jax—there’d been some weird tension between him and the McKinney’s over the last couple of years.

“You sure?” He looked back at Claire. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she looked sad. But that couldn’t be right. Why would she be sad? Part of him felt like he was missing something, but he couldn’t quite grasp what it was. It was right there, but it was blurry, out of focus, so he couldn’t quite make out the whole picture.

He should be used to the feeling by now. He’d spent his whole life unable to see the big picture. Things made sense in the short term, but when it came to the long game, he got lost. And it was just as frustrating now as it had been when he was a kid, trying to learn all that shit in school.

“Yeah, you stay and have fun.” Claire smiled, but it was weak and shaky.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He nodded, suddenly feeling awkward. Not something he was used to. He was many things, but awkward was not one of them.

Jessie’s gaze was boring into him—into them—and he knew this was careening toward painful and uncomfortable. No one was going to buy that he and Claire were actually together if they wandered around town all tense and weird and shit.

Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around Claire and pulled her against him. She gasped, her body crashing into his. For some reason, he’d never realized just how curvy and soft she was until this moment, with her pressed all up against him. Except that, within seconds, she morphed into a marble statue again, all stiff and straight.

“I’m going to miss you,” he said, sliding one of his hands up her spine to cup the back of her neck. A full body shiver rocked her. She stared up at him, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open, shock and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, glowing in her eyes.

He lowered his head and captured her lips. She made a squeaking sound, her entire body stiffening against his even more. He hadn’t thought that was possible, but somehow, she managed it. No way anyone was going to buy this if she didn’t relax.

He squeezed the back of her neck, brushing his thumb against her skin, and she gasped. Swallowing the sound, he used the distraction to his advantage. He swiped his tongue against her lower lip. Her mouth opened almost immediately, and he slid his tongue inside. She tasted sweet, like strawberry lemonade on a hot summer’s day, or Mama’s ambrosia salad at the holidays.

She made a mewling noise, the kind that vibrated right down to his bones, and melted against him. Her tongue brushed his, uncertain and quick, and then retreated. He chased after it, loving the game—and the taste of her.

He tangled his tongue with hers, really getting into the spar and the clash. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss. His pulse galloped faster, the temperature around them growing hotter and hotter with every second.

Claire made that mewling sound in the back of her throat again, and his blood ratcheted up another ten degrees. He slid his other hand down over her ass, hauling her flush to him. Her curves fit against him perfectly. Almost like puzzle pieces, the edges and grooves matching perfectly.