Faking it is easy.
Best Fake Fiance, an all-new sexy and hilarious single dad romance from Roxie Noir, is available now!
My life has room for exactly two women: my daughter Rusty and my best friend Charlotte — known to everyone as Charlie.
One is a feisty, tomboyish firecracker. The other is my seven-year-old. I can’t imagine life without either.
So when my ex springs a custody hearing on me, I find myself telling the judge that I’m engaged to Charlie.
The only problem? I’m not.
Time to fake an engagement.
Pretending we’re a couple will be no big deal.
We’ve been friends for years. We used to sneak cigarettes behind the bleachers. We turned cans of hairspray into flamethrowers. We got drunk on stolen malt liquor.
She’s beautiful, vivacious, spontaneous, and she loves my daughter to death. It’s the perfect answer: we fake it for a few months, then go back to our lives.
Until we touch, and sparks fly. Until I can’t take my eyes off her. Until I can’t stop thinking about what she’s got on under her coveralls.
It takes one kiss.
One shared secret and suddenly, I’m not pretending anymore. I want her, I need her in ways I didn’t know I could.
But there’s a lifetime of friendship between us, and falling in love with Charlie could risk everything.
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“This is an intervention,” Eli says.
“For what?” I ask.
“For kissing,” Seth says, taking his place next to Eli, mimicking his stance. “Y’all are terrible kissers.”
Several thoughts all trip through my brain at once. Heat flushes my face. I take a step back.
“Neither of us is kissing you, Seth,” Daniel says, also crossing his arms over his chest.
“Don’t speak for the lady,” Seth says, suddenly grinning.
Next to me, I can feel Daniel’s whole body go rigid.
“The lady’s not kissing you either,” I say before Daniel can say anything.
“No one is here to kiss Seth,” Eli says, shooting him a look. “We’re here to help you kiss each other, because I’ve seen puppets kiss more convincingly than you two.”
A quick flutter of anxiety moves through my chest, waving through me like wind through a wheat field.
“What puppets have you been watching?” I ask, after a second.
“You can find some real weird stuff on the internet,” Daniel offers.
“Spoken like an expert,” says Eli.
“He’s not the one who brought up puppet porn,” I say. “Apparently, you’ve been watching—”
“Everyone quit talking about your perversions and focus,” Seth says, raising his voice. “No one is kissing anyone, except that you—” he points at Daniel, “are kissing her—” he points at me, “because you need people to think you’re actually engaged.”
The flutters are only getting faster, stronger, a gale force wind through the wheat fields because I really do want to kiss Daniel and I really don’t want to do it in front of his brothers, presumably while they shout helpful make out tips at us.
“They’re Eli’s perversions,” I say. “I’ve never even seen—”
“No one is leaving this room until you stop talking about puppets fucking and start kissing,” Eli says, firmly planted in front of the door.
Daniel just sighs.
“Is this because of yesterday?” he asks.
Despite being trapped in an attic and being told to kiss me or else, he’s somehow the calmest person here right now because of course he is. Daniel’s always the calmest person around.
“Yes,” Seth says.
“Obviously,” Eli confirms at the same time.
“I’d be the world’s shittiest brother if I saw that travesty and didn’t do something about it,” Seth goes on. “You,” he nods at Daniel, “have somehow gotten yourself into a ridiculous situation where you need to convincingly make out with her,” he nods at me, “to keep custody of your daughter, and you,” he nods at me again, “have inexplicably agreed to this farce. I agreed to do your taxes, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“And by God, Daniel, I’m not letting Rusty move to Colorado with the progeny of a demon and a swamp beast, so you better shut up and kiss Charlie.”
“No one kisses normally in front of cameras,” Daniel says. “Look, we kiss just fine. Yesterday there was a photographer saying something, practically everyone we knew was there—”
“Is it just me, Seth, or do those sound like reasons to practice?” Eli says, turning to his brother. “Call me crazy, but maybe they should get better at kissing in public instead of just hoping it never happens again.”
“I do believe you’re correct, Eli,” Seth says. The two of them are talking like they’re in an infomercial, and it might be the most irritating thing I’ve ever heard. “And since they’re not leaving this room until you and I are satisfied, they may as well get—”
“Fine,” Daniel finally says, then unfurls his arms and looks over at me. “Sorry,” he says, his voice softer, gentler.
“They do kind of have a point,” I say, even as my insides twist. “Yesterday wasn’t great.”
Finally, Daniel half-smiles, and he smiles at me, not his dumbass brothers, runs one hand through his hair in his nervous-and-trying-not-to-show-it gesture.
“It was pretty bad,” he admits.
“You jammed your nose into my eye,” I say, laughing.
“You bit my chin,” he teases.
Eli clears his throat obnoxiously.
“Come on,” Seth says, spinning a finger in the air in the universal can we get a move on gesture.
I take a deep breath, turn to Daniel, quiet the flutters, and look up into his sky-blue eyes for a split second.
Then we kiss.
I love writing sexy, alpha men and the headstrong women they fall for.
My weaknesses include: beards, whiskey, nice abs with treasure trails, sarcasm, cats, prowess in the kitchen, prowess in the bedroom, forearm tattoos, and gummi bears.
I live in California with my very own sexy, bearded, whiskey-loving husband and two hell-raising cats.
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