Lucky This Isn't Real: MacBride Brothers Series St. Patrick's Day Fake Fiance Romance by Jamie Knight (good books to read for beginners txt) 📗

want to lose her, either by showing a lack of genuine interest or, ironically, showing too much and pushing her away. We had vastly different lives and lived very far apart. I had to remind myself I was only in L.A. on vacation. Staying by the grace of my brother and sister-in-law and I didn’t want to outstay my welcome. Even if I could stay with them forever without guilt, I still had a life in Belfast. One I wasn’t ready to abandon yet. Maybe after the butcher shop was successful enough to sell my shares, and when Eoin was settled in his life, I would leave, but not before then. There was no doubt in my mind that Darcy was the woman for me. It was best just to fully enjoy the brief time we had together and let the rest take care of itself. Despite the pain it might bring.

Chapter Fifteen - Darcy

It was like heaven. The two of us back where we were meant to be. Not just in terms of sex but the fun stuff after. Waking up in each other’s arms and then making breakfast together. It a bit of a toss-up whether we would bother to put clothes on first, which I planned to do momentarily.

It was Sunday, so we had the day to ourselves and no real plan. It was a state that used to fill me with dread, but I now appreciated having nothing on my calendar since I had someone to share the day with.

Even as a teenager, I used to use the weekends to catch up on schoolwork. Occasionally my friends would manage to coax me out, but most of the time, the period from Friday night to bedtime on Sunday was spent either on homework or extra-credit assignments. I was quite a nerd and didn’t see the point in trying to hide it.

I had just been meditating on a day of food and sex with my beloved when a rage of knocks came upon the door, setting things in a new light. The apartment didn’t have a bedroom to speak of. The bed was in a section partitioned off from the rest by a standing room divider. Tossing the blankets over Sean. I threw on some sweats, not bothering with underwear, and put Sean’s clothes on the bed with him in case he had to make an appearance before the company had left.

My mom and Nicole were the last people I expected to see when I opened the door.

“Honey!” my mom enthused, taking me in a bear hug.

“Mom, what a surprise.”

Never had I meant the phrase so literally. I looked to Nicole for some kind of explanation, but she just shrugged as though sworn to secrecy, which wouldn’t have surprised me.

“Much like your engagement,” my mom said, trundling into the apartment.

It was cutting, but I couldn’t really argue with her. On the upside, she seemed to be taking the news pretty well, even if it wasn’t actually real. I could only imagine what she was here for if she thought she needed back up.

“You cleaned,” she said, looking around the small space approvingly.

“Yeah.”

“Looks nice, anyhoo, we’ve got business to attend to,” she chirped happily, making a beeline for the couch, Nicole not far behind.

“We do?”

“Of course, my darling. There’s an entire wedding to plan, and that takes time. When is the big day anyway?”

“We, uh, haven’t set a date yet.”

“Wonderful, we’ll have lots of time then. You only get one shot at it, at least ideally, best to try and make it the best possible.”

That was her philosophy on most things though I still couldn’t argue that she was wrong. I wanted to tell the truth. That it was all made up to keep dad from making me get engaged to Harry. I was sure they would understand. Mom clearly hadn’t known that was what dad had been planning. Yet, the words would not come out. Part of the problem was that I wanted our engagement to be true as much as they did. Self-delusion, to be sure, but one I found to be far simpler and nicer than the strange and chaotic truth. More than that, it was possible my mom might tell my dad. Not in the way of a schoolyard tattletale but more the dutiful wife. If he asked, she would feel compelled to say to him if she didn’t let it slip in another way. It was best if she didn’t know the truth, not least, so she wouldn’t be burdened by it. A lie that brings a smile or a truth that brings a tear, which one really was better?

Never one to be caught short, my mother came well-prepared. Two shopping bags filled with magazines and planners, all to coordinate the wedding of my dreams. If only she knew quite how literal that phrase really was.

It was a bit rough at first, feigning interest in the myriad of churches and cake choices. My dad was richer than God and seemed convinced that the similarities didn’t end there. Anything I wanted could be mine, and I had to wonder honestly what I would choose. It helped to play long and not let on what a sham it all was. Except as I went through it all, absorbing the excitement on the part of my mother and my friend, giving what could be some serious thought, the pretending became a lot less difficult. To the point, I actually enjoyed playing along as though it were all real, desperately wishing that it was.

There was something about seeing photos of wedding dresses, even if it was just in a picture that lit up some part of the brain, and I could imagine myself in some dresses displayed on those glossy pages.

I’d often heard that getting exactly what you want can lead to disappointments, but