I went along with it and pretended to swoon.
She continued on, “Hold hands. Call each other pookie—”
“Pookie?” I quirked a brow.
She shrugged. “All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t be that hard to fake a marriage.”
Personally, I was siding with Wyatt and Sinclair. I knew it wasn’t easy for either of them, although I suspected the fact that they were lying to each other—him about his feelings, and her about their daughter—played into it. Even so, I couldn’t imagine pretending to love someone that I didn’t have feelings for.
Even so, I decided to play along and see if I could manipulate the situation so that Trina would have to put her money where her mouth was. I could totally be fake married to Trina, because, of course, my feelings weren’t completely fake.
“I agree. How hard could it be? Like roommates, really, right?” I wiped down the bar beside Trina as two regulars stepped up to the bar.
Trina’s eyes widened in surprise that I’d agree with her. I wanted to remind her that she was the contrarian one, not me. The two men ordered beer, which I served.
“If it would get you something you really wanted, it couldn’t be that hard to pretend to be a couple,” Trina said when I returned to them.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sinclair said, taking a large swallow of her drink.
“I totally think it would be easy,” I said.
“Seriously, how would you know how to fake a relationship? Have you ever been in one?” Wyatt asked.
“Ouch,” I said jokingly, although I wasn’t totally joking. Yes, I knew about my reputation as being a player, but it wasn’t earned. I wasn’t a Lothario, despite my vast dating experience, which I blamed on Trina. It was all her fault. If I could stop liking her, I could move on. But each time I tried seeing another woman, I couldn’t stop thinking of Trina. It wasn’t fair to the woman to see them while pining for Trina. I always felt like a douchbag when I imagined Trina naked and calling my name to make myself come while I was fucking one of them.
So after each failed attempt to move on, I’d have to end it. Last year, I gave up, and let me say, going without sex—real sex with a woman—wasn’t easy. If I couldn’t get Trina to change her mind about me, I was going to end up celibate and alone except for my hand and dirty thoughts about fucking her tits.
I shrugged like the comment didn’t bother me. “I just think Trina is right in this case. But if it was hard for you when you were in love with my sister, and she clearly had the hots for you, well then, who am I to say otherwise?”
Wyatt gave me a glare and then drank his beer.
Sinclair, never one to back off from an argument, a trait I was counting on to help me in my fake marriage quest, continued, “I bet you couldn’t do it.”
I could feel the wind changing in my favor. She was on the verge of suggesting I give it a try. If I played this right, she’d suggest that I have a fake marriage with Trina, which would give me the opportunity to spend time with her and hopefully find out what bee got up her bonnet to make her hate me, and entice her to see that I could be the man for her.
2 Trina
Sometimes I didn’t understand Sinclair. I mean, really! Why was she fussing about her fake marriage to Wyatt? He was handsome, totally, one-hundred percent infatuated and devoted to her and Alyssa, and what had started out as a fake marriage was now real. And not once did either of them thank me, since it was my idea that they get hitched to solidify his claim to his family’s farm and work to keep that billionaire bastard Simon Stark from taking farmland to build a prison. That was gratitude for you.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, what a hardship that must have been for you to live with the father of your child,” I said to Sinclair. Then to Wyatt, I said, “For you to live with the woman you loved. Yeah, real hard. You two have no reason to complain. You kept your land. Stark isn’t building a prison. You probably have sex everyday and twice on Sundays. Your marriage is real. Win-win. You should be thanking me that I’d come up with such a great plan.”
“She’s right,” Ryder said, as he reached for a bottle of whiskey and poured a shot for a man sitting two stools down for me.
I looked at him suspiciously. It never felt right when he and I were on the same page.
Sinclair shook her head and laughed. She patted my hand, making me feel like I was missing something. “You’ve been my best friend forever, but you’re remembering this wrong. Yes, it was your idea, and perhaps I do owe you a little gratitude—”
“A little?”
“We do have a lot of sex,” Wyatt admitted. “Even when it was a fake marriage. Remember under the tree and on the table—”
Sinclair’s cheeks reddened. “Wyatt!”
“Should I beat him up?” Ryder asked, but it wasn’t real. Ryder hadn’t been bothered that his best friend and sister were together. Ryder never seemed to get upset at anything, which was another thing that made me suspicious of him. Affable people had something wrong with them. It just wasn’t right to go through life without a care in a world.
“The point is, the idea was hairbrained. I’m still shocked it worked.” Sinclair shook her head. “Happy, but shocked.”
I pressed my hand to my chest, feigning offense. “The idea was ingenious. You’re jealous you didn’t think of it yourself.”
Wyatt laughed.
“You knew it would work,” I said pointing my finger at him.
He shook his head and held up his hands. “I went along to try and win the girl.”
Ryder
