My Fake Husband by Black Natasha L

Author:Black, Natasha L.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-04T16:00:00+00:00

17

Trixie

I was nervous about Damon coming in to help at the shop. What if he joked around so much I didn’t get everything done? What if I spent so much time staring at his butt that I just ignored all the customers? I hardly slept that night worrying about it, and when he got home, I was hiding in my room pretending to sleep because I wanted to avoid whatever God-awful, letting-me-down-easy conversation he had been setting me up for when his phone rang.

The kiss had been amazing, but as I had every time, I felt like he’d just lost control of himself for a moment, given in to an impulse he’d been fighting. Like he was kissing me almost against his will. Like he couldn’t help but indulge in me for a moment, like I was some forbidden treat. It felt delicious and sad at the same time, like I could only have him when he let down his guard or his almighty sense of responsibility for everyone else.

I had a lot going for me in my life. Great friends, loving family, my shop reopening and getting tons of business. I should be able to concentrate on that, and not feel sorry for myself at all that a great guy and family friend had done me a tremendous favor but didn’t like me the same way I liked him. Okay, I had fallen for the man. No one could blame me because he was incredible. The best thing that ever happened to me. I wanted to write songs or poems for him. I wanted to write him a long, mushy letter that would embarrass us both and make things even worse. Because Damon Vance had helped me to become a better version of myself, with a pathway to success and happiness open before me. Just because he didn’t want my devotion didn’t make it disappear. So I’d have to live with it, with knowing I had feelings for him that he didn’t return. I sighed and went ahead with my day.

I only reread that note I’d saved from him a couple times before putting it in my jewelry box where I kept all my precious things. I had a lot more precious things than I had jewels to take up room in it, after all. I had ticket stubs from when Michelle, Nicole and I had gone to see Justin Timberlake in Atlanta a couple of years ago. I also had a business card from the florist shop in Savannah where I’d seen such gorgeous, naturalistic arrangements incorporating tall native grasses for texture that it inspired me, and I saved the card to remind me to think outside the box and be creative. I had the earrings my parents gave me, tiny pearls, when I graduated high school, and the clipping from the newspaper that my sister had saved which was really a wedding announcement but listed my shop as the floral designer. A ring from a stall at a flea market, turquoise and silver, that an ex-boyfriend had bought me a long time ago.

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