Page 8 of His Fake Fiancé

“I know something’s going on here, but I’m not going to pry.” Mama’s voice was level, calm. Never a good sign, no matter the words coming from her mouth. “I only have one question. Why is Claire wearing my grandmother’s engagement ring?”

Shit. Claire slid her left hand under the table, curling it into her lap, even though it was far too late. She was really getting really tired of everyone asking her that question. Of course, if she’d taken off the ring like she’d been planning to, this wouldn’t be a problem. But when she went to actually remove it this morning, she couldn’t do it. It was stupid, and she knew it was stupid, but that realization meant nothing when it came to her stupid heart.

She looked at Jake. He gave her a quick smile and then turned to his mother. “Mama,” he said, dialing up the smile to a thousand degrees. It was one that never failed to work on anyone, including her and his mother, and they were immune to a lot Jake’s charm. “Claire and I were going to make a proper announcement when the family was together. We’re getting married.”

Mrs. C pursed her lips and looked from Jake to Claire. Claire tried to force her lips up into a smile, but she couldn’t quite get there. Mrs. C was never going to buy this.

“What’s this really about?” Mrs. C looked back at Jake, and Claire felt like she could breathe again. Disappointing this woman, who, over the years, had been like a mother to her, made her physically ill.

“Why is it so hard to believe that we’ve fallen for each other and want to spend our lives together?” Jake was trying to keep the charm rolling, but there was a thread of tension in his voice.

“Jacob Bryan Callahan, I don’t appreciate you lying to me.” Mrs. C stood and pushed her chair in. She picked up her plate and the plastic plate Olivia had been using and went over to the dishwasher and started loading.

Claire’s throat felt thick. Breakfast was over. There’s no way she’d be able to eat anything more. She leapt up and grabbed her own plate, along with the platter of leftover bacon. As usual, Mrs. C had made enough to feed an army. Which was usually necessary, since there were lots of Callahans. She had no idea where everyone else was, since Sunday brunch was usually a boisterous affair, but maybe it was a good thing they were all alone. She hurried over to slide the bacon onto the counter, and then turned toward the dishwasher.

Mrs. C grabbed a damp cloth and walked over to Olivia’s highchair. The baby had been content, babbling away and waving her sticky fingers around.

“Okay, fine,” Jake said, turning in his chair to track his mother across the kitchen. Claire placed her plate in the dishwasher and stood up, leaning against the counter.

Mrs. C used the cloth to wipe Olivia’s hands and face. The baby protested with a yell and a head turn, but she was no match for her grandmother.

She was such a beautiful little girl, with her dark curls and brown eyes. But every time Claire looked at her, a bittersweet ache twisted through her. She loved Olivia, because she was a part of Jake. But there was also a secret, shameful part of her that resented her. Which was ridiculous, because she was just a baby and the circumstance of her birth weren’t her fault. It just hurt so much that someone else had made Jake a dad.

Which was dumb, because it was always going to be an inevitability. She’d managed to convince herself she was fine with it. But when faced with the actual evidence, turned out she wasn’t as understanding as she’d thought.

Mrs. C turned toward Jake, planting her hand on her hip. She was such a beautiful and poised woman. Claire had always been in awe of her. And she took no flack from anyone, including her five sons. Unlike Claire, who was a total pushover. Growing up in a house with four overbearing men, and next door to the five Callahan boys, she’d learned early on it was just easier not to have a differing opinion.

“What’s going on then.” Mrs. C’s tone said she was just about at the end of her patience. She didn’t get there often, but everyone who grew up around here knew you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of her wrath.

Jake turned back to his breakfast. “Trey thinks the custody thing will go better if I’m in a relationship and we can show a stable household and all of that.”

Olivia let out a screech, obviously done with being strapped in her highchair. She made a grunting noise and her little face went red. Claire knew what that meant. Someone was going to need her diaper changed.

“Jake…” Disappointment dripped from the name and Claire flinched. “So, you dragged poor Claire into your scheme?”

Olivia let out another squeal and Claire rushed over, unstrapped her and picked her up. Olivia made a happy squeal, slapping a wet hand against Claire’s cheek.

“I’ll just go and change Olivia’s diaper.” She didn’t wait for a reply, just hightailed it out of the kitchen. If there was ever a time to make a great escape, this was it.

Chapter 4

Jake sighed and grabbed the syrup, pouring a generous amount over his pancakes. What he really wanted was the bacon, but Claire had gotten flustered and taken the platter over to the counter. Not that he could blame her. Somehow, Sunday brunch had turned into a shit show.

“I didn’t drag Claire into anything, Mama.” He took a bite of his pancakes.

Mama sighed too, and sat next to him. “What are you thinking?”

He put his fork on the table and turned toward her. “I’m thinking I don’t want to lose custody of my daughter.”

Sure, he’d freaked out when he’d come home from Mason and Grace’s wedding last summer and found Olivia on the porch. Gina had left a note, saying she was sorry for not telling him earlier, but she was overwhelmed and struggling and unable to look after the baby anymore.

And then, a few weeks ago, Gina had shown up, claiming she’d made a mistake and wanted Olivia back. While he felt for her, there was no way he was just giving up his daughter. So, he’d hired a lawyer.

He’d been granted an interim custody order, mainly because Olivia had spent the majority of her very young life with him and his family, and no one wanted to disrupt her routine too much.

“I understand that, honey, I really do.” Mama placed her hand over his and gave a squeeze. “But is lying really the best way to do that?”

Guilt slid through him, but he pushed it off. “It’s not really lying. I mean, Claire’s always going to be a part of my life. And Olivia’s.”