Page 129 of The Fake Dating War

He catches my tongue with his. They tangle together.

“I can’t lie,” I gasp. “Making you lose your minddoesgive me great joy.”

“And who am I to deny you?”

“Real sacrifice there,” I say. “And I can feel your growing interest talking about it, but Ms.Beatrice is a light sleeper.”

“You, of course, aren’t interested at all.”

“Don’t check my panties. Theyaren’tdrenched.”

Jake growls out a groan and then drops his forehead to mine. “I love you.”

My body soars. Those words. I can’t get enough of them. I don’t think I ever will.

“I love you, too. Should we try to get some sleep? Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

He gathers me closer, the whir of the vents surrounding us as the night stretches on. On the springiest of beds, cocooned by a very familiar curtain, and in the arms of a man who holds me preciously, rest comes easy. Past, present, and the burgeoning future. Everything settles into this more resolved harmony inside me.

The next day, I give Ms.Beatrice a big goodbye-for-now embrace and move into my new place.

Leo and Wyatt show up with a truck full of furniture. Jake goes and helps them upload. Carrying a side-table over his shoulder, he comes toward me. “What is it? You’re smiling.”

“That’s because I’m excited!”

65

REEMA

One year later

“Drive slower,” shouts Leo, clutching the baby seat with both hands.

“I’m going ten under the speed limit,” Jake informs him.

“Put both hands on the wheel!”

Jake takes his right one off the gearshift.

“There’s a red light!”

“It’s green.”

“It’s about to turn red!”

“Apologies,” says Wyatt with a sigh. He’s also in the backseat, sitting on the other side of baby Mel, their adopted daughter, who is sleeping soundly without a care in the world. “This is our first trip out of the house. It’s going to take some adjusting.”

“What adjusting?” screeches Leo. “There’s no adjusting. I’malwaysgoing to be like this.”

“True. Unfortunately, no cure has been discovered,” I say, and then, “Hey!” because he’s kicked the back of my seat.

“Settle down, children,” says Wyatt with an impressive amount of patience. “Or you’ll wake theactualchild.”

With that said, the rest of the ride is mostly drama-free, but Jake must be regretting car-pooling together, considering his knuckles stand out against the wheel, and he’s cleared his throat multiple times.

Good thing we’re arriving now.

The car pulls onto a long stretch of a curved driveway cloaked by dense shrubs for privacy, so you have to know the exact entrance, otherwise you could easily drive past it. There are twists and curves, and then a turn around a final bend to reveal a gorgeous, multi-floored home with a sweeping white patio wrapped around the front. On the second floor is a domed turret built with an attached circular balcony, echoing the shape. By my count, there are two dozen windows accented with blue-painted trimmings that, when open, wash the country-chic furnishings inside with warm light.

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