Page 58 of His Fake Fiancé

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was only twelve thirty. She had a little while yet before she had to head over to the Callahans to meet Jake. They were going to the lawyer’s office together. Projecting a united front.

Her fear and uncertainty bubbled up inside her, and she buried her face in the pillow and let them out. Everything she’d been holding in for the last week—and longer. This whole thing with Jake had stirred up her emotions—or more like, whipped them up in a blender. She just needed to get through the next little while and then she could gather all of this stuff up and sort through it.

She flopped over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Her nose was stuffy, her eyes felt puffy and swollen. She was tired of crying. Tired of the life she wasn’t really living. Tired of just going through the motions. Living with Jake and Olivia—hot make out sessions not included because they were on a plane of existence all on their own—had been the happiest she’d been in as long as she could remember.

Except for when she was writing music, she’d never felt more like herself, like she was where she was supposed to be, even with her all-over-the-place feelings for Jake.

Shit. Even against her better judgment, somehow she’d fallen even more in love with Jake Callahan.

She stared at the familiar ceiling. How many nights had she lain here, wishing that just once, Jake would actually notice her? How many nights had she dreamed about their future together? Where they would live, what their kids would be like, what it would be like to kiss him?

Other than the kissing, which was way better than she ever imagined, none of the other things she’d dreamed had come true. Living in the Callahan’s guest house with Jake and a baby that wasn’t hers had never even been an inkling of an outcome. And yet, it didn’t stop her pulse from pounding all the same.

She was so screwed.

Claire wiped the already spotless counter for what had to be the thousandth time. She couldn’t sit still. It had been another three days since their meeting with Trey—a meeting that ended up being more about billable hours than actual progress—and she was still strung so tight, it was a miracle she hadn’t snapped. It felt like she was tip-toeing around, trying not to crack any egg shells.

She and Jake still hadn’t talked. Well, not about anything substantial. Claire went to work and he either stayed here with the baby, or he had someone watch her while he worked on the ranch. In the evenings, they sat in opposite sides of the sofa, watching television until it was late enough to go to bed without feeling like a loser. She hadn’t written any music or lyrics, or even felt the least bit creative, in what felt like forever.

Today was the in-home visit from Noelle Fletcher, the court appointed custody evaluator, and Claire’s cells were jumping around something fierce. Besides, if she wasn’t doing something, if she sat down, it would give her brain a moment to think, and that’s the last thing she wanted.

From the living room, Olivia let out a happy squeal. Claire looked over. The baby was standing in the pack and play, her fingers clutched around the edge. She’d already been fed and bathed, and was wearing a pair of stretchy leggings that looked like jeans, and a pink shirt with white daisies embroidered all over it. Her hair was pulled up into two, curly little pigtails, and held by pink elastics that had a little plastic daisy attached to them. It was the cutest thing ever.

When she saw Claire looking at her, she reached her chubby little hands out. Gravity took over and she fell back on her butt. The way her little eyebrows drew together, and her tiny bow of a mouth drew down in a frown made Claire laugh.

She was so sweet and innocent, oblivious to the games being played in order to basically win her.

That thought landed in Claire’s stomach with a thud, the weight like a handful of horseshoes being tossed around inside her. How much was Gina missing her right now? How much was she hurting? While Claire had never claimed to understand how the woman could just abandon her child, something had obviously tipped her to the point where she thought she was doing the right thing by her daughter.

Until this moment, Claire realized she’d been judging Gina through prejudiced and selfish eyes. She wanted to hate the woman, both for sleeping with Jake and getting pregnant with his baby, and then abandoning Olivia when things got too hard. But who was she to judge? She’d never been in that sort of situation, so she really had no idea what Gina had been thinking or feeling. Had it been easy for her to walk away, or had she agonized over it for days, or weeks, or even months?

Even now, the thought of Gina gaining custody of Olivia tore at Claire, and the little girl wasn’t even hers. And it wasn’t likely Gina would let her ex-fling’s best friend/fake fiancé visit. Olivia would just stop being a part of her life. The idea made her ache.

“Oh, baby girl.” Jake came down the hall and into the living room. He’d clearly come from the shower. His hair was still wet and, dammit, he looked amazing. Why did he have to look so amazing? The dark grey Henley he wore clung to his shoulders and arms. His dark jeans hung off his lean hips and cupped his glorious butt to perfection. Why did he have to be so perfect?

And why did he not want her?

Clearly that was what had happened last week. He’d gotten caught up in the moment, and when cooler heads had prevailed, he’d realized what he was doing, and backed out of it gracefully. She should really take lessons.

And she was not supposed to be thinking about this right now. She had way more pressing issues, like the fact the woman who was going to basically decide Olivia’s future was about to come and evaluate her and Jake’s ability to provide a stable, loving home for the baby.

Olivia laughed, pulling Claire out of her thoughts. Jake was holding her over his head, making airplane noises as he flew her around the living room.

“Dada.”

Jake froze with the baby over his head, a shocked look on his face. Claire was pretty sure hers held a matching one. This was the first time Olivia had said an actual word.

Olivia squirmed, clearly not liking that the game had come to an end. Jake brought her down to cradle against his chest. The hug, and the kiss he pressed against the top of her head damn near broke Claire, it was so stinking cute.

“Did you say Dada, Peanut?” He bounced her in his arms. Olivia stared up at him, a big smile on her sweet face. She reached up and patted her chubby little hand against his jaw. He’d shaved this morning, so his skin was most likely smooth. “Can you say it again? Dada? Dada?”

“Dada.” It was more a shriek than an actual word, but it didn’t stop the massive grin from spreading across Jake’s face. He was so fucking beautiful, it made Claire’s chest ache, the feeling sharp and bright. She had to look away.

A knock sounded.

Claire’s head shot up, her gaze zeroing in on the front door. Jake pressed another kiss to the top of Olivia’s head, and then put her back in the pack and play. Olivia squawked, clearly unhappy with the end of playtime.

Jake glanced at Claire. There was worry and something she couldn’t quite decipher in his eyes. He gave her a quick nod, and then turned and headed for the door.