Fake Fiancée

After graduation, we’d gotten married in Atlanta. It had been a relatively small affair with our closest friends and family. Isabella had been my bridesmaid, and I’d worn the fishtale dress I’d tried on.

Now, I worked part-time at a dress shop that made up-cycled clothing. One day I wanted my own boutique, but for now, I was enjoying being with Max.

Life was perfect.

As far as Felix went, he hadn’t been picked up in the draft.

Oh, how Max had loved that.

When it came down to it, Felix didn’t have the talent. We’d heard he was a used car salesman in Florida. After much discussion, Max and I had mutually decided to put him behind us and let the past go.

We didn’t spend time thinking about him.

We had too many good and real things to focus on.

He kissed me again. “You’ve got that dreamy look on your face. Whatcha thinking about?”

“You.”

He grinned. “I am pretty damn dreamy.”

I poked him in the ribs and he collapsed against me, his naked body gliding against mine. The air thickened around us, heat building. It never took much for us to be hot for each other.

He touched me, his hand coasting down between my legs and dipping inside. He kissed me, soft and then hard, his tongue sucking on mine.

My need ramped up. I cupped his ass, pulling him in closer, wet and ready. “Hurry,” I murmured.

Lifting my leg over his shoulder, he said my name with reverence and slid inside.

I arched, my body accepting all of him.

“I love you so much,” he ground out as he made me his.

I kissed him.

Our lives were just beginning.

Max . . . us . . . Fate had divined our love.

Since the night we’d met on that shore, an invisible thread connected us.

I didn’t understand the hows and whys of our meeting, but life isn’t nearly as complicated as we make it.

Sometimes there really is a bigger plan.

Sometimes there really is that one person.

Sometimes true love finds you no matter what.

The End