Fake Marriage Box Set

Xavier nodded and then helped Corsica take off her pack. She smiled at him, despite her expression looking faded and confused. "We found the wine. It was wonderful; thank you."

It was irritating how clean the connection was on my mother's neglected laptop. I shouldn't have been surprised that Xavier had given her the latest and best technology, despite how she stacked in under mountains of books. The teleconference also went too quickly, and all of my nit-picking suggestions were immediately addressed. I closed the laptop and couldn't think of any other excuses to avoid Corsica.

She had showered and changed into a flowing sundress. Bright beads winked on her impractical sandals as she swung a Gucci purse over her shoulder and headed towards the spa.

"Glad to be back in civilization?" I snapped.

Corsica stopped, but didn't turn to look at me. "I would have happily stayed out on the trail for two more days like we planned. Now, I have an appointment."

"Let me guess. Pedicure? Or hot stone massage?"

She took a deep breath and let it out in a controlled sigh and then pinned me with a guileless look. "You seemed busy with work, and I didn't want to interrupt anymore. So, I made an appointment to talk to the resort manager about the glamping sites. I want to know more about it."

I snorted. "One night out there is driving you straight back to excess and luxury, huh?"

Corsica looked hurt. "I really enjoyed our night 'out there.' The whole 'dressing for dinner' gave me a great idea for ways to weave little luxuries into a rustic, outdoor experience. I was inspired."

My chest hurt, and I tried to loosen the knot there with a sigh. "I was inspired, too. I'm sorry that that meant we had to cut our trip short. I finished talking to work. Do you maybe want to go on a hike?"

Her eyes narrowed to blue lasers. "I told you. I have an appointment. I'm not just here at your beck and call, Penn. Besides, now that I didn't even interview at the Ritz-Carlton, I better start exploring other job opportunities."

I caught up to her again and grabbed her wrist. "You know, maybe we should work together on the whole glamping thing. I've got equipment designers that would drool over the possibilities of a luxe line."

Corsica yanked her wrist back. "You made it very clear this morning that your work is solo. I'm sure you have more equipment you need to test by yourself. Good luck with that."

She marched along the path with her delicate dress billowing, and my heart went with her. It was impossible. No matter what I did, Corsica was in or around every thought. I had tried ignoring our connection, and then I tried indulging it, but no matter what I did, I couldn't get her out of my system. Every muscle in my body ached to follow her, but I knew I would only make things worse.

Instead, I went back to the campfire outside my mother's yurt and brooded over the flames. I wanted Corsica, but what did that mean?

She didn't know what she wanted, and I think that was what irritated me the most about her. Corsica was lovely, talented, strong, and resourceful. I wanted her to find a job, a lifestyle, that was near me and that suited me, but it was impossible to figure out where she was headed.

The idea of glamping circled in my head as one place where our two worlds overlapped. If only I could get her settled there, it would be natural for our connection to continue.

So, I needed to get her a job. Then a place to stay. Then a reason to run into me every day, multiple times a day. Scratch that. It wasn't enough. I needed her with me. Maybe we'd find a place together.

My mind drifted into more daydreams about me and Corsica living together. There wasn't much sleep, but there was her singing, our spirited debates, our red-hot kisses, and those blue eyes of hers seeing right through me when I tried to be something I was not.

"Let go of me, Xavier. I don't care what you say." My mother's angry hiss slashed through my fantasies. "Let go of me right now or you'll be sorry."

"Alice, please, just listen to me. Why can't you ever listen to me?" My father's voice was rough with frustration.

It sent rapid waves of panic over my skin. Had he started drinking again? He gave Corsica a bottle of wine–maybe he was hiding more alcohol. Maybe he was blind drunk and looking for a fight again.

I stood up, every muscle clenched. I had been a scrawny and frightened boy the last time, but now Xavier wouldn't know what hit him. I charged around the corner of the yurt and skidded to a halt.

My mother had twisted her wrist free in a practiced, self-defense move. Then she caught Xavier's face with both hands and disarmed him with a kiss. My fists dropped as did my jaw. There was no fight, no violence, just a volcanic outpouring of passion that sent me back two steps.

I stepped on a twig, and it snapped like a gunshot.

"Oh! Penn, I was just coming to find you. We have something-"

Xavier interrupted her. "Alice, please, now is not the time."

"If you lay another hand on her, I will kill you," I snarled.

My mother's eyes flew open first with surprise and then with painful compassion. "Penn, darling, I'm safe. Your father is not hurting me. We were just arguing over when to tell you something important."

"Looks like it better be now," Xavier muttered.