Page 60 of His Fake Fiancé

“Mm hmm.” More scratching in her notebook.

Claire’s stomach soured, making her feel nauseated. If she’d managed to eat anything this morning—she hadn’t because she’s been too bloody nervous—she was positive she’d be retasting it now. She blew out a quiet breath and focused on her brownies. She stirred the dry ingredients together in the mixing bowl. Brownies would make everything better. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

Chapter 18

Jake put the baby in the pack and play and flopped onto the couch, feeling like he’d just done a couple of back-to-back marathons. All in the same day. Olivia was babbling happily, her stuffed tiger clutched in her fat little hand. She was probably enjoying her freedom. She’d spent the majority of the afternoon glued to either his hip or Claire’s, as they went on a merry tour of the homestead.

Noelle Fletcher had left about fifteen minutes ago and he finally felt like he could breathe again.

The home evaluation had taken a few hours, which was way longer than he’d expected—the house was only a few hundred square feet—but she’d insisted on seeing the main house and touring some of the grounds. The ranch was just over two hundred acres, so it would be impossible for her to see it all, but she’d tried.

They’d taken her to the main house, which had been blessedly empty—thank the Lord for small miracles. She’d wandered around, making notes, asking innocent enough questions. But he knew nothing she did or said or asked was innocent. Not that he thought she was being anything other than professional. She just had a whole lot of power in this situation, and he felt like he was being judged, not evaluated.

And whenever anyone judged Jake Callahan, it was never in a good light.

Sure, a lot of that was his fault for being who he was. He was a man-whore. And there was nothing wrong with that. He’d accepted it years ago. Mainly because no one had ever decided they wanted to get any deeper than his looks and what he could do with his tongue and his cock. So, he’d embraced it. That way, they wouldn’t figure out how dumb he was, how useless.

Claire walked in the front door. She’d just taken most of the stuff she’d baked this afternoon over to the house. His brothers were going to be in heaven. Jake had managed to score a stash of her amazing brownies and delicious chocolate chip cookies for later. They were all amazingly delicious. The air in the house still smelled like chocolate.

“Hey,” she said, and dropped into the armchair across the small living room from him. She looked as exhausted as he felt.

Olivia pulled herself to her feet, using the edge of the pack and play for leverage. It would only be a little while longer before she’d be walking, and then running around the place. Then nothing would be safe.

“Ca-ca,” she said, reaching one of her hands toward Claire.

Claire gave her a tired smile and blew her a kiss. “Hey, baby.”

Olivia laughed, and Jake’s heart damn near exploded. Claire and Olivia had such a sweet bond. Claire had been so good with the baby, and with him. He honestly didn’t know what he’d do without her.

“So, I think that went well.” He leaned back against the sofa, stretching his arm along the back. What he wanted was a beer, and to just veg out on the couch for the rest of the day. But he was too damn tired for the former, and too damn wired for the latter.

Claire leaned forward, put her elbows on her knees. “I hope so.”

Except, she didn’t really sound like she did. There was a defeated edge to her voice, and maybe a hint of disappointment.

“What’s wrong?” He pulled himself into a sitting position, the muscles between his shoulder blades tightening.

“Nothing.” She shook her head and looked away.

“Claire?”

She looked at him and there was sadness in her gaze. “Are we doing the right thing?”

“About what?”

She waved her hand around. “This. This whole charade about being engaged.”

“What?” He knew he sounded defensive, but it was a gut reaction. “Why? Do you think we’re doing the wrong thing?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged and looked away again. His gut squeezed so tight he’d swear his stomach was making diamonds.

“Out with it, Claire.” Now he sounded angry, but he couldn’t help that, either. He was too tired and too stressed to worry about adjusting his tone. “What are you trying to say?”

She sighed and looked at him again. Her shoulders looked as tense as his felt. “It’s just that, I’ve been thinking…” She chewed on the side of her lip. Never a good sign. “Is it really fair to keep Olivia from her mom?”

“I’m not keeping her from her mom.” There was that defensive edge again, but now he didn’t really care. Hurt stabbed at him, like a hunting knife in the back, making his breath catch. He wasn’t sure if it was because Claire was suggesting something so bad, or because he actually thought she might be right.

“I just think…” she sighed again, and somehow the sound weaseled its way inside him, sitting in his chest like a thousand-pound heifer. “I know what it’s like to grow up without a mom. Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad, but it’s just not the same, you know.”