I am distinctly rattled and completely uncomposed. My facade is firmly in place, my smile as friendly as it always is as we enter the hotel where the Children’s Hospital fundraiser is taking place. No one can possibly see how shaken I am, not even Teagan. I regret that as much as I cannot find it in me to regret practically forcing myself on her.
The hint of her is not nearly as delicious as the taste and feel of her. We’ve completely crossed a line we can’t cross again. I’m paying her to be my wife in name only, not to be my prostitute. At the moment, I’m too hard to think about anything else besides whisking her out of here and sinking my aching dick deep inside of her.
Fucking hell. I hadn’t fully seen the dress before I gave it to her. When she pulled it out of the box, her dazzling smile had blinded me right before I realized how absolutely gorgeous she’d be in it, but I was completely overtaken by the thoughts I had when I saw her earlier.
She’s fucking beautiful. Gorgeous. There is not a word I can think of that describes how absolutely perfect Teagan looks tonight, and I didn’t think she could get any sexier than when I saw her in the kitchen the other morning. She was still dressed in her pajamas—a tight fucking tank top that hid nothing and shorts so short I could almost see her pussy. She tried to hide it all under a ridiculously short robe, but it hadn’t been tied, and I’d been unable to resist snapping a picture of her when she wasn’t looking. And it wasn’t the first one.
I now have a dozen candid shots of her, and it makes me a freak. If she knew I walked around pretending to be working on my phone, clicking photos of her every time she took my breath away, she’d probably freak the hell out.
I don’t give a shit. When this is over, I want a million photographic memories of my time with her. I’ve only been able to be myself around three people in my life, three people I’d trust with everything, but Teagan has definitely been worming her way to the top of that list, becoming the fourth. She’s beginning to mean something to me, something I can’t quite describe, but I absolutely cannot screw it up by treating her like a whore.
Which means shoving my tongue down her throat and fucking her mouth with mine was an epically horrific decision on my part.
And damn it. The cherry taste of her hidden beneath her lipstick. She applies it several times throughout the day. I now want to stash hundreds of the tubes everywhere so they’re always within her reach.
Damn it. I am turning into a freak.
How in the hell can I go back to treating her like the stranger she is if I can’t keep my hands off her? Tonight will require touching her frequently in order to begin selling our love-at-first-sight plan.
For the millionth time, I second-guess my decision to suggest such an outlandish proposal. I’ve been a mess all week, and yet somehow Teagan has seemed completely calm and prepared, even for a night like this.
We’ve discussed who will be here. I’ve sat next to her, the scent of her soft summer perfume so close to me it muddled my mind, while we went through the Lane Holdings website along with other pages so I could show her who the board members are so she has a basic background on them when she meets them tonight. Teagan is being thrown into a den of vipers, and I want to keep her safe as much as I can.
But it’s not the board members or anyone involved in Lane Holdings other than my father who worry me the most. I’m concerned about Trey and Caitlin, another great friend since college. The three of us have been tight since the night we met. Caitlin’s never shared my bed and is one of the few women I actually enjoy spending time with. As of this afternoon, she has yet to tell me if she’s coming. They will be the hardest to convince I’ve fallen head-over-heels in love with a woman in a matter of days. Both will be full of questions and lingering gazes, trying to figure out my secret, but even though Teagan has suggested we can tell Trey, I’m not yet willing to take the risk being outed could cause.
I’m getting Eleanor’s house no matter what it takes. And if we can kiss like we just did in the car, if that chemistry between us had me fighting back the urge to tear her dress off and rip off my tux and take her on the fucking back seat of a limo grows, we’ll be able to make even my closest friends believe anything.
I suppose there are worse things than being almost engaged to a woman whose body you want, a woman who’s currently living with you and is about to marry you, and you can’t fuck her. Although at the moment, I can think of very few things.
Shit. How in the hell do I get myself out of this?
Hiring an escort to slake my lust might be the best option. I’ve never done something so revolting in my life. I’ve also never needed to look for one, and the thought sickens me, but if that’s the only way I can screw a woman and help me keep my hands off Teagan in a way I’m suspecting she wouldn’t entirely despise in the short term, then I might have to consider it.
I’ve jacked off enough this week that carpal tunnel in the near future is a high probability.
Fuck.
“So, are we back to the prickish Corbin I saw earlier tonight or the nice one I spent time with this week?”
Next to me, Teagan stops. We’re already in the lobby of the hotel and I’ve said nothing since we exited the car.
“I’m sorry,” I say, turning to her. Now that I’ve touched her, I can’t stop. My fingers brush against her cheek and her eyes widen, flicker around as if to check to see if I’m putting on a show. I don’t give the first shit who’s mulling around. She’s so fucking soft. Pure. Good. A helluva kisser, and I’m betting an even more passionate lover. Shit. “I’ll try to control my prickish behavior tonight, I promise.” I wink, teasing her, and I’m rewarded with a relieved smile and her shoulders falling.
Hell, I was an asshole earlier and I need to perform like the Lane I am, regaining control of my libido and my brain. This won’t work at all if she begins hating me.
“Then I think escorting me inside and immediately finding me a glass of wine or champagne would help me out a lot right now.”
“Shaken up a bit, are you?”
Her cheeks turn a deep shade of pink and she rolls her eyes. “So you’re a good kisser. I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve been told.”
“Nope.” I press my hand to her lower back, gently guiding her forward. “But a man needs to be reminded occasionally. Our fragile egos demand it.”
“Nice.” She bumps me playfully with her hip, forcing me to pull her closer. “I’ll make sure to remember that.”
“Do. That’d be great.”
We enter the ballroom and more than a dozen pairs of eyes immediately land on us, yet I barely notice. And neither does Teagan seem to, which is ironic given her earlier fascination and excitement about being photographed. Yet I’m still smiling down at her, she up at me, and something about her smile, the crinkle at her eyes, slams into my chest, burning a hole directly through me, searing me from the inside out.
This woman. I can’t think of a single thing wrong with her. Every moment she turns that smile at me, I want to do everything I possibly can to keep it on her beautiful face.
“Ready to be thrown to the wolves?” I ask, leaning down and whispering in her ear. “Because it’s show time.”
“Let the games begin,” she replies, her hand softly pressing against my forearm. “But give me alcohol. Immediately.”
She’s impressive every single moment of the night. If I could have written a list of qualities I want in a fake wife to pull off this charade, Teagan would have checked off every box. I couldn’t have crafted a better, more refined and yet gentle and kind woman to be on my arm. I’ve led her to the closest bar, and while we sip our first glass of wine, I surreptitiously point out everyone I’ve told her about throughout the week. She rises to the challenge, remembering every tiny fact down to who’s having an affair that’s known and not discussed, and even the one mistress in attendance.
Her ability to pull forth such mundane information isn’t necessarily as impressive as the joy on her face is when she finds the mistress and then hides her giggle behind her wineglass as if she shouldn’t be mentioning it.
At least she finds this night amusing, because we haven’t hit the hardest part yet.
As if the mere thought has conjured him out of thin air, my father with my mom on his arm appears through a small crowd of people and begins walking our way. I’m surprised he’s waited as long as he has.
“My parents are headed this way. Need more wine to get through it?”
“And be tipsy, giggly drunk the first time I meet them? No, thank you.”
Better than slurring drunk or high on pain meds like my mom usually is.
She twists, places the glass of wine on a nearby bar height glass table, and readjusts her side to mine, turning so she’s facing me, almost pressing her chest against my side. “Anything I need to know?”
“My dad will hate you and treat you like trash, my mother will stay quiet and act like his behavior isn’t absurd or insulting, and then she’ll give you a kiss on your cheek before they walk away.”
“Sweet. Fake women and judgmental assholes, two of my favorite things.” She smiles up at me as she speaks, her hand landing on my chest as she does it. Despite the worry I have regarding my father, I’m still laughing and smiling down at her when he greets us. Her ability to make this all feel like one big fun game eases my stress and concern of failure.
“Corbin.” I shake my father’s hand as he greets me. Then, leaning forward and keeping my arm wrapped around Teagan, I give my mom a kiss on her cheek.
“Mom, it’s good to see you.”
“You, too, honey,” she replies, pressing the palm of her hand to my cheek. “How are you?”
“Fantastic.” I pull back and put pressure on Teagan’s lower back. “Mom, Father…this is Teagan Monroe. Teagan, Franklin and Elizabeth Lane.”
Without missing a beat, Teagan slides from my grasp and holds out her hand, her blindingly beautiful smile giving off the impression she’s truly excited to meet them. “Hello. It’s so wonderful to meet you.”
My father scowls at her hand like it’s beneath him, and, for not the first time in my life, I’m thankful my dad and I don’t look alike. We might be of similar height, but with his dark hair and even darker eyes, he not only has always been intimidating, he appears that way as well. I’ve long since given up considering the possibility that he has even a small hint of goodness in him. My mom, on the other hand, was all goodness and sweetness, until he sucked the life out of her. She’s always been slender and elegant, blond and blue-eyed, and I’m thankful that despite my father and I sharing our height, my attributes all came from my mom.
My mom’s smile looks genuine enough, but it’s all fake. She can no longer hide the emotionless blank expression in her eyes. She’s simply following her husband’s social cues like she’s been trained to do for over thirty years. And he’s killed any true excitement she used to have.
The familiar rage at my father being a complete asshole slithers through my veins.
“Nice to meet you as well, Teagan,” my mom says, dipping her head in acknowledgment.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Teagan says, dropping her hand and placing it on my forearm like she’s not bothered in the least they ignore it. “You have a lovely son. I’m certain I have you to thank for raising such a gentleman.”
The proverbial smack at my father goes unnoticed by neither me nor my father, whose scowl turns vicious. I move to protect Teagan, trying to shift her to my side, but she holds her ground. I can practically feel her physically brace herself.
“Yes, quite a gentleman he is,” my dad says, his voice low and menacing. “Rescuing the damsel on the street and then moving her into his house. I’m wondering exactly what kind of payment plan you’re on for his car you so carelessly wrecked.”
His tone is clear. But I will not allow anyone, especially this serial adulterer, to insinuate Teagan’s a whore.
Teagan’s hand tightens on my arm, either warning me or comforting me, I can’t tell. It doesn’t matter. Before I can respond, she quickly replies, “No payment plan is necessary, Mr. Lane. We haven’t even discussed it, have we?” She turns to me, her hand soothingly running up and down my arm. “We’ve had other…matters to discuss.” She turns back to my mom and her smile widens. “I’ve been greatly enjoying getting to know Corbin. You know what’s it like, don’t you Mrs. Lane? That moment when you meet someone and you just know your life is going to change in the most delightful ways?” A soft expression hits her eyes, and good Lord, give this girl an Emmy. I don’t know yet whether to throw my head back and laugh or shove my tongue back into her throat. “That’s what it was like the moment I met Corbin. I thought he’d yell at me and we’d exchange insurance information, but instead it’s been one of the best weeks of my life, and I have your son to thank for it.”
“No thanks necessary,” I cut in, knowing my cue. My father’s veins at his temples are bulging and he’s ready to pop. Very rarely does he issue such insults, especially to women, and not leave them flustered and feeling less than him. Yet Teagan has risen to the occasion, even if she is starting to lay it on a bit too thick. I pull Teagan back to my side, smiling down at her, but this isn’t fake. “I’m glad you crashed into me. It’s definitely changed my life.”
And I mean it. Not simply because of the will. If I haven’t been with Teagan, I’ve been thinking about her. Not a minute has gone by when she hasn’t been in my thoughts or I haven’t been staring at the photos of her on my phone.
Fuck, she’s completely twisting me up. And now that I’ve gotten the hint of what she’s like beneath all her kindness, I want more.
“Meeting you, I think, is going to be one of the best things that has ever happened to me.”
My voice is soft, but thick. The words are meant more for her than for the company still watching us. Teagan’s expression softens further.
“Corbin,” she whispers.
“Quite ironic you’ve met a woman you claim to enjoy so much the same day you learn you must marry.” I glare at my father, somehow managing to pull my gaze off Teagan’s tempting lips.
I will not allow him to get the best of me. Not tonight. “Quite, isn’t it? Funny how life somehow works out exactly the way you hope it will. Right, Dad?”
I drop my hand from Teagan’s waist and clasp her hand in mine, tugging her backward. It’s the perfect moment for an escape as my dad turns a dark shade of purple.
“Excuse us.” I nod and look at my mom, whose fake smile is still plastered on her face. She knows exactly what I’m implying. She’s a master at her facade and it makes me want to slam my fist into my father’s face. “We’ll see you at dinner on Sunday.”
My mother’s smile falters, but I made it clear when I called her I don’t want my father in attendance, not that the likelihood of him being there was high anyway. When he doesn’t have to be at home, he prefers to be with his other family.
As I pull Teagan behind me, I kiss my mom’s cheek again and then get Teagan out of there without giving her the option to say her own goodbyes.
They’re pointless anyway. My dad fired first, but I ended it with the deadly shot.
“What was that?” Teagan whispers, hurrying on her heels to stay at my side. I guide us to another area of the ballroom. A bar, tucked into a back corner, is exactly where I need to be, and when I reach it, I slam down my hand, getting the bartender’s attention.
“Scotch,” I demand, my fury beginning to match my own father’s. Of course, the one trait I get from my father is his temper.
“Corbin?”
“Give me a sec,” I snap at Teagan, and squeeze my eyes closed. Inhaling a deep breath, I wait for the bartender to hand me my drink before I toss most of it back in one large, unsatisfying swallow. “Sorry.”
“No apology necessary,” Teagan answers.
“There is. My dad’s a dick, which I warned you about. It also means I don’t want you around him or anyone loyal to him, which is ninety percent of the people here, without Trey or me close to you. Ever, Teagan. Understand?”
“Well, no.” Her gaze roams the crowd, and I don’t ask what or whom she’s searching for. “I don’t understand, but I’ll trust you. Can you tell me why that made him so angry?”
Yeah…because right now I want to tell her that the love of my father’s life was a fucking waitress at some diner he met, fell in love with, and knocked up, and he’s spent the last twenty-five years taking care of Jill and Grant Maverick while completely turning his back on his original family in the process.
That’s exactly the kind of conversation I want to have with someone like Teagan, who’s probably never been touched by the kind of ugliness in my family.
“I will someday.” She’ll learn eventually anyway. “Just not tonight.” I drain the rest of my scotch and order another, along with a glass of wine for Teagan.
But my mood is hard to shake, so we fall into a tense silence. When Trey and Caitlin head toward us, laughing and joking with each other like only great friends can do, I welcome the distraction.
“Be prepared,” I say, my voice lighter, liquor warming my blood. “If you thought that was easy, this will be a whole new ball game.”