Page 75 of His Fake Fiancé

He rifled through the dresser for some clothes. Initially, he’d kept his things in a duffle bag, tucked next to the dresser. When they’d found out about the home evaluation and that Noelle Fletcher would be snooping around the house, he’d tucked his stuff in the dresser and closet with Claire’s. Seeing their stuff mingled together like that made something in his chest shift. Something heavy and uncomfortable.

He grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and slipped them on. With one last glance at the bed, he tiptoed out of the room and eased the door closed behind him. For some stupid reason, he felt like he could breathe again when he was out in the hallway.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. He didn’t like it.

He wandered into the living room. Everything was still the same. The pack and play. The blankets. The cheerios. His throat thickened, but he swallowed past it, pushed the rogue emotions down. He needed that numbness from earlier to come back.

Maybe he’d feel better if he kept himself busy. He tossed the pillows back on the sofa and picked up the blankets and folded them, balancing the pile on the coffee table. They probably needed to be washed, since the drool monster had crawled all over them.

He closed his eyes, pushing down the sadness welling inside him. It wasn’t like he’d lost his daughter completely. The judge had given him visitation rights, and maybe he could talk Gina into some sort of joint custody arrangement thing. He just hoped she wasn’t an asshole like he had been. Fuck, why had he been such a dick?

He went into the kitchen and grabbed a garbage bag. It wasn’t the best solution, but it would have to do for now. He grabbed Olivia’s toys out of the pack and play, and the ones that had managed to get all over the house. He pulled the pink blanket his mom had bought for the baby when she’d first come into their lives out of the pack and play. The fabric was super soft, and he couldn’t help but rub his fingers back and forth over it. Olivia loved it, used to snuggle up with it when he was tired or cranky. He should probably take it over to her. Give her something familiar in her new home.

The base of his throat ached so much, he could barely swallow. He stuffed the blanket into the bag and then dropped the bag on the sofa. A quick pull and snap and the pack and play was folded up and tucked into the corner by the door.

“Knock, knock.”

Jake looked up. Simon stood in the doorway, his expression blank.

“You know, most people actually knock on the door and don’t just barge in.” Jake tried to sound annoyed or angry, but he just sounded tired.

“I did knock, but there was no answer.” Simon stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “But I heard you moving around, so I thought I’d take a chance.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leaned his shoulder against the wall. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jake said, but even he could hear the lie. He blew out a breath and dropped onto the couch. The bag of baby stuff toppled over, the contents at the top spilling out onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he said, and grabbed the bag and righted it on the floor next to the couch.

Simon came over and picked up Olivia’s blanket. Jake wanted to snatch it back, which was ridiculous, because his brother wasn’t going to do anything bad with it.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said, passing Jake the blanket.

Jake took it, but instead of tucking it back into the bag, he held onto it. He didn’t know why, he just wasn’t ready to let it go right now. “It’s not your fault.”

Simon shrugged and sat in the armchair across from the sofa. Because the house was so small, it still felt like Simon was all up in his face. It would be rude and assholey to tell his brother to fuck off, especially since he was only here to make sure Jake wasn’t doing anything stupid. Lucky for Simon, Jake was too tired.

“No, it wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Simon braced his elbows on his knees.

Jake scoffed and stuffed the blanket into the bag.

Simon leaned forward, his hands clasped on front of him. “You can’t think it was your fault, Jake.”

Jake leaned back against the sofa and thrust his hand through his hair. He glanced away. “Of course, it’s my fault.” He looked back at his brother. “As usual, I screwed everything up.”

The I wasn’t good enough almost slipped out, but at the last second, he swallowed it back. He wasn’t fooled into thinking the rest of his family didn’t consider him a screw up. As the youngest, and the one who did stupid shit, they’d never really taken him seriously. And why should they? He’d never done anything to be taken seriously for. Even his daughter had been an accident. And, up until recently, he hadn’t even stepped up and been the father she needed and deserved. No wonder the judge had taken her away.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

He flipped his gaze to the hallway. Claire stood there, looking disheveled and satisfied, wearing nothing but his dress shirt. His shirt, which hit only part way down her thighs. Her lips were tilted up into a sweet smile. At least until she caught sight of Simon sitting on the other side of the living room.

Her eyes widened and she gave a small squeak and ducked back down the hallway.

Simon sprang to his feet, strips of red practically glowing on his cheeks. He ducked his head, keeping his gaze glued to the ground. “I’m sorry,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t realize that… you know… Claire was…” He blew out a breath. “That you were busy.”

Before Jake could say anything, Simon spun around and was out the door, closing it softly behind him.

Jake pushed to his feet, thrusting his hand through his hair. His insides were all knotted up, he didn’t know where to even start to try unravelling them.

Claire came back into the living room, this time wearing a pair of yoga pants and the softest looking long sleeved t-shirt he had ever seen. The need to run his hands over it, over the softness, over her curves was overwhelming. He curled his fingers into his palms instead.