Luke
The sun protruding through the windows hit me straight in the face, breaking my deep sleep. I kept my eyes tightly shut, not wanting to be awake yet. I rolled over on my back and reached my arms high above my head, stretching my entire body. As I brought them back down, I opened my eyes and looked to the right, realizing quickly that I wasn’t in the bed alone. All of a sudden everything came flooding back to me from the night before. I stared at Quinn for several moments before carefully pulling myself from the bed and putting on my boxers. I walked slowly toward the bathroom, kicking my ass for what I had done without thought the night before.
I had promised myself I would keep this professional and without any extra complications, but it seemed my willpower wasn’t what it used to be, at least not when it came to Quinn and her absolutely amazing body. I had fucked up big time, and I wanted to yell at myself for being so reckless, especially when it came to someone as wonderful as Quinn. The last thing she needed was someone like me getting her hopes up and then crushing them as soon as everything had found its place. I was in this for Jake, not to get my dick wet. As soon as I thought that, I corrected myself, remembering that I thought more of Quinn than just some girl I could get laid by. I wasn’t trying to hurt her. That was the last thing I wanted.
Out of all of the things on my agenda for last week and this one, hooking up with the sitter was definitely not on it. In reality, though, I didn’t think as Quinn as Jake’s sitter at all; she was there even when I was. Sure, I was compensating her for the time she was missing at a job, but that didn’t mean I had the right to put the moves on her. She was a babysitter, not a hooker, for God’s sake. Even thinking about Quinn as anything other than sweet, sexy, and wonderful made me feel guilty. Still, I couldn’t deny it: last night had been some of the most erotic and sensual sex I had ever had, and I’d had a lot in my lifetime. The way Quinn and I moved together was not like a first time, but more like two people who knew each other very well. She wanted to please me, and I wanted to please her. However, by the time I pulled her face away from my dick, I just wanted to feel myself inside of her.
I looked in the mirror and shook my head, trying to decipher the mixed message floating around in there. I sighed and turned around, starting the shower and waiting a few minutes for it to actually heat up. I jumped inside and let the hot water run down my body, washing away the remnants of the night before. Maybe I was going about this thing the wrong way entirely. Maybe I wasn’t using the brain that I knew I had. In a way, this was just like football, going from play to play and changing up the way I handled myself, depending on the other team. In other words, maybe I needed to take a chance on this and use it to make our current situation even better.
Maybe a sexual relationship with Quinn was a good idea, and no, I wasn’t just thinking that because I found her absolutely irresistible. My logical side ran through all the reasons this would be a good idea, but then it also went over all the reasons it would not. In reality, I think I wanted it to be a good idea more than anything else, so I was talking myself into it. She was amazing; why wouldn’t I want it to be a good idea? Let’s just say that we continued this sexual relationship; I really thought it would help with the family atmosphere we were trying to achieve. We would actually be sharing a room, which removed the whole problem of keeping the bed hidden in the den and would put me in a much more comfortable place. On top of that, it would initiate a certain level of intimacy that could only help us when the court official came snooping around, especially with Sarah’s stream of bullshit floating in the back of their minds. That intimacy could really make or break the whole thing.
I was coming up with all these reasons that it would be a good idea to continue this type of relationship, completely leaving out the really honest one—I simply didn’t want it to stop. I was a man who had found a woman that I was both physically and intellectually attracted to, so saying it was wrong of me to do this would make any sexual encounter wrong, based on those ground rules. Quinn and I just so happened to have a very unorthodox situation going on together right now, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t lust after her. Even as I stood there washing myself, I was hoping to be back inside of her as soon as I possibly could. What could I say? I was incredibly attracted to this woman in every way, and the sex had absolutely blown my mind. How could I not think about fucking her again?
Sure, usually when I had sex with someone I was lusting over, it was out of my system, and I could just move on. With Quinn, though, it was almost like my body hadn’t realized I satisfied that itch, and it wanted her twice as bad as before. I sighed and turned off the water, realizing that I needed to put this out of my mind for the time being and get myself dressed for work. I climbed out of the shower and dried off, wrapping the towel around my waist. When I opened the door back into the bedroom, I realized that Quinn was no longer in the bed. I shrugged and walked over to the closet, pulling out the clothes I needed to wear that day. I walked back to the bathroom, combed my hair, brushed my teeth, and put on deodorant before going to look for Quinn. The smell of her perfume was still lingering in my bedroom, making me want to crawl back to bed and forget the world.
Instead, I pulled a Kansas hoodie on over my collared shirt and walked out of the bedroom, making my way to the main area of the house. As I rounded the corner I saw Quinn, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, her hair pulled back, flipping an omelet over in the pan. After all of that, she still got up to make sure I had breakfast, something I didn’t expect her to do whatsoever. I smiled to myself as I watched her cook, knowing deep inside it seemed so natural to have her here with me, doing those kinds of things.
Quinn turned around and put the omelet on the plate, sliding it toward my seat at the breakfast bar. She poured me a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice, then stood in front of me, taking small bites of some eggs she had made for herself. She was calm, but would barely look at me, and I knew that meant that I had to say something. If I was going to bring up the idea of continuing this, I needed to do it before I talked myself out of it.
“What happened last night was definitely unexpected,” I said, looking up at her.
“You’re telling me,” she said, chuckling.
“That being said, I don’t regret it at all,” I replied.
She lifted her eyebrows and turned toward me, putt
ing her plate down. She seemed surprised by what I was saying, and I could tell it piqued her interest a bit. I took another bite of my omelet and sipped my coffee before continuing. I was nervous as hell to say what I was about to say, but I couldn’t leave for work without telling her how I was feeling.
“Look, I know that this relationship is a sham and all,” I said. “I’m the one who put the whole thing together. But I was thinking, if you agree, there is no real reason that we can’t enjoy each other during this whole process. Not only will it be a plus for us, but it will be an added amount of intimacy that I know will project in the way we interact around the court official.”
She stood there blinking at me for several seconds, her face showing zero expression. She smiled slightly to herself and lifted her eyebrows before grabbing her plate and turning to place it in the sink. Immediately, I started to regret saying that in the manner I did, seeing how it could easily have hurt her feelings. I finished up my omelet in silence before standing up and walking over to the sink to rinse off my plate and put it into the dishwasher. Just as I went to open it, though, she grabbed my hand.
“Put it in the sink, these are clean dishes,” she pointed out, with a harsher tone than normal.
I nodded my head and walked around the counter, grabbing my bag and throwing my stuff into it as usual. When I was done, I started to walk toward the door when I felt her hand on my arm. I turned around to her expecting her to have something to say about what I’d just thrown out there so clumsily. Instead, she handed me my to-go mug of coffee and quickly turned away before I could give her a kiss. Muscle-memory could no longer be my excuse since I knew the reason for kissing her was because I wanted to, not because I was used to doing it. I sighed and watched her walk over to the counter and open up the dishwasher. It was obvious that she had little want for me to be sweet to her at that moment.
“I’ll see you tonight,” I said, putting my head down and walking toward the front door.
As I walked toward the front door, I could feel myself starting to get down about the way Quinn reacted to my proposal, and I didn’t blame her at all. I was desperately clinging to my idea of freedom, and it was written all over the words I’d just spoken. I walked out the door and out to my truck, throwing my bag in the passenger seat and starting the vehicle. I pulled off away from the house, still thinking about Quinn’s expression, or lack thereof. It was obvious that she was internalizing whatever was going on in her head, and now it was totally messing with mine. I wished that she would talk when she was upset, instead of completely ignoring me, sending me into a frenzy of thoughts. I had no idea what was going to happen now, and the last thing I wanted was to have no warning of her bolting from our agreement.
I had made a complete mess out of this, and now I needed to figure out a way to fix it until I had at least gotten the go-ahead from the judge. All of this was messing with my head because there was no way I could pretend that part of me wanted to keep sleeping with her because I enjoyed being so close to her. Still, I had to make sense out of it all, and I was determined to talk to her about it when I got home that night.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Quinn
When the front door was shut, I took in a deep breath and put down my cup of coffee, unsure of how I was feeling. I hadn’t been angry with Luke until he made his little speech, as if he was proud of himself for coming up with a plan to be fuck buddies until everything was done. I tried to remind myself that it didn’t seem he had much experience with self-respecting and intelligent women in his life, so talking with me might be an issue. I walked into the bathroom and started the bath water, wanting to soak for a while to think this through.
I slipped my clothes off and carefully lowered myself into the hot water, closing my eyes and breathing deeply. It was obvious that the first thing I thought when I woke up that morning was the fact that I should not have slept with Luke. I should have had enough self-restraint to keep my panties on and calmly walk away, knowing that wasn’t what was best. My body rejected that thought, and with might every time it came into my mind. The night before had been one of the most incredible things I had ever experienced. The level of pleasure that moved between us was unbelievable, and I couldn’t imagine sex being any better than that with anyone. It was definitely one of those nights that would stay with me for a very long time, especially when I was faced with any kind of sexual decision—like to have it at all, with anyone other than Luke. If I had my way it wouldn’t be a question I would ever face again, but then I realized that I lived in this world, not some magical fairyland.
Instead of reveling in our glorious night of heated and passionate sex, opening our eyes to the sunlight and making love all over again, I was sitting in the bathtub, alone. Instead of passionately kissing and exchanging poetry or beautiful, meaningful words, I was still thinking about the fact that he had just asked me to be his fuck buddy. All the while, I was fighting the thought that had been sitting in the back of my mind since I woke up alone in his bed: I was definitely falling in love with him. I knew that if I committed to sleeping with him, and took up this silly deal of his, it would only make it worse on me. I had already started falling, and there were not a lot of ways that I could stop that from happening; sleeping with him was definitely a way to speed up the process and make my landing even more grimacing and grizzly. I was asking to have my heart smashed to bits when all of this was over.
I laid my head back against the bathtub edge, closing my eyes and replaying the scene from the night before. It was not a secret that Luke was sexually attracted to me. It was not a secret that Luke thought of me fondly the rest of the time, and sincerely appreciated my relationship with his son. There had to be a way that I could weasel my way into making this fake family more permanent. Luke has had the fairy tale, with the passionate love affair, big wedding, and absolutely horrible, realistic ending, just like me. Maybe, since he already knew where love really goes, he would be content with something not as intense, at least on his end. As experienced grownups, we had to start looking at the world in a more realistic light, knowing that fairy tales didn’t actually exist and that happily ever afters were often not as happy as they appeared under the hazy eyes of love. I needed a new plan of attack because it was obvious that the typical ‘make him fall in love with me’ was not going to work.
Sure, we both know that this whole thing is a sham, at least for right now. We had both entered into the agreement like two people agreeing to start a business venture together. We had looked at the pros and cons and found that this arrangement was the best chance for Luke to get his son back. But what if I could make this whole situation a lot less of a scam? What if I could come up with a way to make the mockery we planned to submit to the court, a lot less of a mockery and a lot more of a true beginning?
It was all hypothetical at this point, but I could feel the tides turning, and I could sense that even though Luke came to me with his grand idea this morning, I knew he could sense the real connection we had. He was clinging to his freedom with all of his might, and I didn’t blame him after being married to the wicked witch. That didn’t take away from the fact that this little fake family was the best thing that ever happened to me, and probably to all of us as a whole. What if I could convince Luke that this dynamic was what was best for Jake?