Fiancée for Rent by Elizabeth Grey

Chapter 18

Kylie

"That song, Liam, I'm blown away by it, and I'm so glad you're writing again," I said, watching how close I teetered to whatever the truth was.

My head hurt from the thought as I waited with bated breath to hear Liam's response. He seemed to be on the same roller coaster of emotions since the song.

"Kylie, being here with you, with your family, is a dream come true for me."

He left off, and I waited, focused on getting air in and out of my lungs as my heartbeat over time. I was thrilled for him to have provided all of this, to see him so happy. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel overlooked that he hadn't mentioned me anywhere in the gush of sentiment. Seconds ticked away, the old clock on my nightstand punctuated each as I watched his eyes move back and forth to search for his next words as his forehead wrinkled, his mouth held tight.

"But," he stated.

"I knew there was a but coming," I sighed.

He took me in for a moment. Studied my face. I could see the pain in his eyes, overpowering the light that had been there less than an hour ago.

"I keep going back to our conversation on the plane. It was easy to shoot down your idea to tell them the truth before I met them before they took me in and made me one of their own. But now, to lie to them unsettles me. But I know I’ll only end up hurting them. I’ll never get another holiday like this.”

"I've thought it all, too, and more," I offered.

"More?" he asked, glancing up at me from where he'd turned away, giving him a playful look.

I searched for the appropriate response to not give away too much of what I’d been feeling and to force him to share more. Yet, when I'd hashed out my options, I came up with all of nothing. When I paused too long, he filled the silence for me.

"I don't suppose there’s a chance of us remaining friends after, a way to pose our divorce in a way that no one here hates me, including you."

My stomach fell then, any emotions I'd chosen not to define splashing down, drowning.

"I'm sure we can figure a way," I said, trying to bolster myself that friendship was the best I could hope for.

I didn't want the man to disappear from my life because of some arrangement on paper. I could admit that much to myself.

"We have over six months to put our heads together and figure out the best possible reason two people could become friends yet still divorce. I assume that we find ourselves to be better friends than lovers would sting your ego."

"A bit," he offered, his first finger and thumb close together as he squinted his eyes. "I mean, look at you, a guy would have to be beyond dead not to want you. And, I pride myself on the time I take with a woman."

"One could not call you a selfish lover, that's for sure," I admitted as deep within me, something began to pulse, growing hot.

I licked my lips before I bit at the bottom one, taking in his chest, his six-pack abs I knew to be under the cream, cabled sweater he wore. Even if it didn't reveal the slim, muscular body, I knew to be underneath. It highlighted the scruff of his beard and the pure dark roast coffee color of his eyes.

"Don't do that with your lip, Kylie. I only have so much willpower to keep my hands to myself here tonight."

"Who says I want you to?"

"Who says that's just not the alcohol talking?"

I thought that over as butterflies invaded my queasy stomach. Even I couldn’t know if the warmth, tingles, and need grew from our time together, his song, or the mere influence of too many drinks. If we put sex back on the table, I’d have been a goner for sure—no more fake dating. I’d lose my frail hold on my feelings thinly veiled by desires in the end. If we made love this time, and he rejected me again, I had no idea how I’d react, how bad it would hurt. Yet, If I rejected him, the consequences had seemed no better.

"Who cares if it is," I said as my hand crept across the quilt length between us.

He placed his hand on mine, sending jolts of need up through my arm to shoot me right in the heart. Had it just been my body, maybe I'd have gone along, let the passion add to my buzz.

"It's getting dangerous, isn't it? Complicated between us?" I admitted.

"I'm afraid it is, and I don't know what to do with that. But, damn if I don't want you in the worst way right now, yet some sane part of me sees more danger in that than the pure animal way we come together."

"I want you, Liam."

"Damn, I want you, too, Kylie, but should we? At what cost tomorrow?"

"Fuck tomorrow."

"But can we?"

The words hung in the room, like a balloon separating us, an impossibly sturdy balloon that had been the last thing that held us apart.

"So, sleeping. Sorry, I screwed us on that one. Charlie could burst in here at any time tomorrow, and it wouldn't be good for him to find one of us on the floor."

"It was probably a risk before this, but a chance we took. I am pretty tired. And really tired of that floor. I'm sure we can make it work, to share the bed as friends, friends who already know what it's like to be together. Just hit me on the head with a hammer, and let's call it a night."

"Okay. I’m wiped, too," and I could see the look in his hooded eyes. It had been the truth. "Though not sure I will get a wink of sleep."

And so, like every night, I went into the bathroom to change and wash my face while Liam changed in the bedroom. By the time I hit the bed, he'd taken to a side, on his back, body straight, hands gripping the covers he had up to his neck.

"You look miserable rock star," I quipped as I sat on my side, sliding in under the covers and ignoring the way my insides heated to be so close to him.

"Too tired to care," he said whispering. "But I want to thank you for tonight, for this week, for everything."

"You're welcome," I said to his falling asleep form.

I remembered the way his hands, a little roughened from his work here, had felt on my skin in the barn, in the car. Heat pooled between my legs, made my stomach clench. My fingers moved under the mound of blankets to touch his warm, smooth skin as it stretched taut over muscle. I'd already memorized every hill and valley of his body as I'd watched him dress after the first time. No picture on the internet did him justice to how the man looked, after sex, naked in a barn. Oh, people would pay big bucks for what I had in my head.

As a last act of insanity, as his breaths deepened, I rolled over, pressed my body against his, and waited. He sighed, murmured something unintelligible, and went back to his breathing. So I got cozy, stole a night to cuddle because I needed it, deserved it, and had set myself up on a reckless course of muddying the waters after that damn song. I’ll blame the alcohol later, I told myself as something in me realized in bed, this way, we fit together too well.