Faking It (McCullough Mountain)

When they made it inside she made him a sandwich, which helped sober him up. He was ravenous, because he hadn’t eaten all day. She fed him and he adored her for it. Once his belly was full they went to bed.

  Sheilagh showered and he fell asleep before she returned. The next morning he woke up with a pounding headache that was his due for being such an ass. He considered what he’d said about marrying her and actually found himself still agreeing with his stance. He did want to marry her. It was something he hadn’t realized until she suggested it. The problem was, she hadn’t really suggested it at all. She merely mentioned it and he clung to the word like a drowning man to a life raft.

  Basically, he was fucked.

  * * * *

  Sheilagh avoided Alec for the next few days. He was well aware of what she was doing. He texted her often and called her right out using words like avoidance and communication. If he was going to be so predictably Alec, she decided to be predictably Sheilagh. Her replies were snarky and immature, taking zero accountability and excelling in sarcasm.

  She got away with three whole days of hiding until he came to her apartment. Surprisingly, he wasn’t angry. “Are you done with your tantrum?” he asked as she opened the door to let him in.

  “Maybe. Are you done making a spectacle of yourself?”

  “I make a spectacular spectacle, I find.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You can only come in if you promise not to use the words marriage, wife, marry, spouse, husband, bride, or wedding.”

  “Fine.” She let him in and shut the door. “I would make a rather dashing groom, though, don’t you think?”

  She laughed. “I hate you.”

  He caught her wrist and pulled her to his chest. “You love me.”

  “Only on holidays and Tuesdays and days that start with S. The rest of the time it’s touch and go.”

  His lips pressed to hers as he smiled. “I want to touch you.”

  “Mmm, Dr. Devereux, you haven’t touched me in days.” His fingers found the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor. “I’ll ask that you not make a mess of my apartment.”

  He laughed. “You’re right. I’ll only end up picking it up again. Lord knows you can’t clean.”

  Unhooking her bra, she backed toward the bed. “Oh, really? I’ll have you know I am quite an excellent maid.”

  He stripped off his shirt. “Then why does your apartment always look like a bomb hit it?”

  She shucked her pants, balled them up, and threw them at his chest. “Because I think it’s sexy when you clean up after me.”

  He toed off his socks and shoes, stalking her steps slowly. “Lazy little liar.”

  “Pretentiously pompous neat freak.”

  He lunged and she squealed as he tackled her to the bed. Laughter belted out of her as he tickled and wrestled with her. “Mercy! Mercy!”

  He kissed her. “Smart ass brat.”

  She pressed her breasts to his chest and arched beneath him. “Your brat.”

  Pinning her hands above her head, he lowered his head and nipped at her breast. “Yes. My little brat. All mine.”

  He took his time once he had her. His mouth kissed every exposed inch of flesh and he brought her to climax twice before entering her. When he came, he made sure she went with him. They fell asleep in her cramped little bed, a tangled mess of limbs. Yeah, she’d marry him. He just had to ask the right way.

  Chapter Twelve

  I read the book Great Expectations when I was seven. My favorite parts were the hintingly frightening themes, mostly in the curious characters I didn’t know how to judge, but wanted to label evil. In the end, nothing was as it seemed and the wicked were the saviors while the seemingly generous were corrupt and motivated by revenge. What motivates me? Surely I’m not wicked or corrupt when measured against society as a whole. I feel the pressure of such great expectations weighing on me, yet… I’m not quite sure what I expect of myself. The more I think on it the simpler it seems.

  I want to laugh every day.

  I want to focus on the highs and forget the lows.

  I want to love without restraint or worry.

  When the semester ended Sheilagh decided she wasn’t going home. It was a snap decision, but one she was sure of.

  “But what do you mean you aren’t coming home, love? School’s over,” her mother cried into the phone when she told her.

  “There’s summer session, Mum. I want to keep going, make up for lost time so I’m not thirty when I graduate.”

  “Does this have to do with your man?”

  Sheilagh grinned into the phone. “Maybe.”

  “I see. Well, don’t you go gettin’ yourself all moon eyed and stupid over him unless he’s treatin’ you the way you deserve.”

  “He treats me nice, Mum.”

  She could sense her mother’s smile. “I know he does, love. Otherwise he’d be missing a testicle by now. When will we see you next?”

  “Probably August, right before the fall semester starts again.”

  “Well, you make sure you call, you hear?”

  “I will. I love you, Mum.”

  “I love you too, angel.”

  It had been a long time since her mother had called her angel. It was what she’d called her as a child, before they all started calling her devil.

  Once Sheilagh had her schedule she felt like a weight had been lifted. She hadn’t realized how much anxiety the thought of returning home had been giving her. That mysterious ball of dread she’d been lugging around seemed to evaporate. Now she just had to tell Alec.

  As she locked her apartment the door next to hers opened. Wes came out and stilled. He had a large box in his hands. “Leaving for the summer?” she asked, trying to remain pleasant.

  “Yes. And moving to a quieter building.”

  He turned and called his name, “Wes.” He stopped but didn’t face her. What the hell did she stop him for? “Um… for what it’s worth, I love your dad—”

  “That’s what you two are missing. At the end of the day your love isn’t worth shit. It won’t pay my tuition or save his job. Have a nice life.” He turned and she grabbed his sleeve.

  “Hey, you little shit! Where do you get off being so entitled? From the day I moved in here you’ve acted like you deserve all this and more. What about what your father deserves? He’s happy. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  He eyed her with such disapproval it hurt, but she took it, refusing to give him the satisfaction of intimidating her.

  “My dad thinks he’s happy because he’s banging a girl half his age. He’ll eventually—”

  “You selfish dick!” She shoved him and the box he’d been holding fell down, DVDs and books spilling over the steps.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Lots of things! Namely, my neighbor’s a spoiled prick who needs his ass kicked!”

  “Oh, and you’re just the one who’s going to do it?” he asked snidely, puffing out his chest.

  “You better believe it,” she said, bunching up her sleeves.

  “I don’t believe this.” He rolled his eyes.

  “I’m counting to three and then you better run, motherfucker.”

  “What? You’re crazy.”

  “One.”

  “My father’s got to be out of his bloody mind messing with you. You’re insane.”

  “Two.”

  “This is ridiculous—”

  “Three.” She shoved him.

  “Hey!”

  “I said run!”

  His eyes widened and he bolted. She chased him down the steps shouting everything she ever wanted to say to him about his tight ass rules and banging on the wall. She called him a disrespectful little shit and other not-so-nice things.

  He flung out the front door and she followed until she crashed into him. He screamed like a little bitch as she tackled him, pulling his hair. “Selfish bastard,” she ground out, yanking his collar back as he crawled o
ver the sidewalk.

  “Get off me you crazy bitch!”

  A deep voice suddenly boomed, “Cease and desist!”

  She stilled, a fist full of her neighbor’s hair in her hands. Gazing up into the sun she found Alec towering over them.

  “What the bloody hell is going on?”

  “She started it—umph!”

  She smacked him in the ear.

  “Sheilagh! Stop hitting my son!”

  “He deserves it,” she snarled.

  “I’m sure, but I must insist you let him go.”

  “Fine,” she grumbled, distributing her weight painfully over her victim as she pushed herself off the ground.

  “Ouch! My nipple!” he squealed.

  “Baby,” she snapped.

  “Both of you inside,” Alec barked.

  She led the way back up the stairs, taking care to step on Wesley’s scattered belongings along the way. She sighed when she reached the door to her apartment and found Alec helping his son clean up the mess. He scowled at her and she stuck out her tongue. He rolled his eyes.

  “Both of you inside,” Alec repeated, pointing to Wes’s apartment.

  She marched inside and frowned at the nice and neat furniture. Alec precisely stacked the DVDs on the coffee table and drew in a long breath. She snickered when she glanced at Wes. His hair was a disaster, his shirt was stretched out, and his cheeks were flushed. Pussy.

  “What. Happened?”

  “She’s crazy!”

  “Hey! No name calling. We are going to discuss this like three mature—and I mean mature—adults.” That middle part was definitely directed at her.

  Arms crossed, she plopped on the couch. Jesus, it was stiff. Probably so Wesley could make sure that rod up his ass stayed firmly in place when he sat down.

  “She attacked me,” Wes said.

  “He deserved it,” was her reply, chin in the air, not a hint of regret in her voice.

  “You two are supposed to be neighbors, not enemies. I understand you aren’t friends, but this is simply too much. Sheilagh, you cannot go around attacking people.”

  “Ask him what he said…”

  “Pardon?”

  “Ask your son what he said that made me attack him.”

  Alec turned to Wes. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing that wasn’t true.”

  Sheilagh cleared her throat. “He said, and I quote, ‘My dad thinks he’s happy because he’s banging a girl half his age.’”

  Alec’s nostrils flared as he slowly turned to face his son. “You said what?” She bet he wished she’d kicked his ass a little more now that he knew that.

  “Oh, come on, Dad—”

  “Come on—nothing!” he shouted, slicing his palm through the air. “Enough is enough!”

  Whoa, he was really pissed. “Alec—”

  “Sheilagh, go back to your apartment.”

  “Hey! What am I, a child? No.”

  His face was dark with anger. He turned to his son and in a menacingly low voice, he said, “Understand this, the tuition you receive is given by two bodies, your school and your father. Disrespect me or those I love again, and you will find yourself out on your ass.”

  Wesley shot to his feet and pointed. “For her?”

  “Yes, for her!”

  “Alec—”

  “Sheilagh, please!”

  She scowled at him. He was letting this get out of hand. The kid should have had his spoiled ass kicked years ago, but it was too late for all that. Alec couldn’t draw a line like this.

  “Go to your mother’s, but do not think to come back here if you can’t be respectful. This is my life, not yours.”

  She stepped between them. “Uh… listen. I think everything got a little out of hand. Wes, I’m sorry I beat you up—”

  “You didn’t beat me up—”

  “Yeah, I did. Anyway, I’m sorry.”

  “You did not beat me up.”

  Whispering out the corner of her mouth, she said, “Had you on the pavement squealing like a little bitch, but whatever. I’m sorry.”

  Wow. He really didn’t look ready to accept her apology. This is why it was good to have brothers. Her family beat the crap out of each other on a regular basis. Problems were solved and laughed away by such means. These people didn’t seem to get that, though.

  “Alec, tell Wesley he can come back in the fall.”

  He didn’t say a word. They simply stared at each other.

  Beyond frustrated, she blew out a breath. “Enough! You’re family! He’s leaving for England in the morning. You can’t let things go like this and spend the entire summer apart.” And that was when it hit her.

  Crap.

  Her shoulders sagged and she stepped back. Retreating toward the door, she said, “Wesley, I love your dad. I’ll leave so you don’t have to and then there will be nothing your father can get in trouble for. Alec, talk to your son. No fighting. I have to go.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have to go.”

  “Sheilagh—”

  “Fix. This. Alec. Please. He’s your family.”

  She shut the door and left. Running into her apartment she grabbed her purse, which was still on the floor by the door and her keys. She ran down the steps and out to her car.

  As she backed out of her parking spot Alec came running after her. “Sheilagh!”

  She had to go. Now.

  She made it as far as Route One before the Beemer cut her off and pulled on the shoulder. “Shit.”

  Slamming on her breaks, she pulled to the side of the road. Cars zipped by and she climbed out. “Are you insane? You could have killed me, cutting me off like that!”

  He didn’t give her time to say another word. He ran to her and she was shoved against her SUV, his mouth crashing down over hers. “Don’t go,” he begged, using his body to hold her in place as his lips remained over hers.

  Cars honked at them as they sped by. “Alec, I have to and you should be working things out with Wes—”

  “Wes is fine. Don’t go. I need you. Please, Sheilagh. Stay.”

  She frowned at him. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

  His head jerked back. “What?”

  “I need to talk to Luke. I have to fix this. It’s gone on too long.”

  “You aren’t leaving me?”

  “Leaving you? When did I say that?”

  His brow lowered. “You said you were leaving. I thought…”

  She laughed. “Jesus, Alec. I meant I’d switch schools so we could still be together.”

  He shut his eyes and she realized how easily her words could have been misinterpreted. She laughed. “You moron.”

  “What did you bloody expect? I thought you were leaving me. Here I am, making grand gestures of love, going about in a high speed chase, and you’re only running off to visit family.” He pressed his head to her shoulder and groaned. “I am a moron.”

  “A sweet moron. No one’s ever chased after me like that.”

  He grinned at her. “You make me crazy, Sheilagh McCullough. I think you may truly be the devil, but you’re my devil and I won’t let you go. I’ll chase you anywhere.”

  Her body shivered as the adrenaline rush faded. He’d actually chased her down. Who does that? He stood up to his son because he’d disrespected her. With all of her quirks and flaws and craziness, he never stopped loving her. “Ask.”

  “Pardon.”

  “Ask me. Ask me again.”

  “Ask you what?”

  She rolled her eyes and bopped her head from side to side. “Assssssskkkk.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to ask.”

  “Jesus, Alec. Ask me to marry you!”

  “What?”

  Unbelievable. She dropped her arms. “Forget it.”

  “You want me to propose on the side of the interstate?”

  Holding up her hand, she climbed back into her car. “Moment’s over, Alec.”

  “Where
are you going?”

  “Back to my apartment. I’ll call my brother.” He followed her to her door and she rolled down the window. He looked lost. “You really need to work on your game. I’ll meet you back home.” She rolled up the window and he shook his head, slowly walking back to his car and climbing inside.

  She signaled and pulled onto the highway once traffic let up. When she returned to her apartment, Alec wasn’t behind her. That was okay. She had stuff to deal with anyway.

  As she climbed the stairs she faced Wes’s door and knocked. It opened and he immediately tried to shut it when he saw her. She wedged her foot in the door and barreled her way inside.

  “You’re like a bull in a china shop,” he snapped.

  “Deal with it. Everyone else has to cope with the permanent stick up your ass.”

  “What do you want, Sheilagh?”

  She sat on the couch and folded her hands demurely on her lap. “Ah, first names. Progress.”

  He didn’t sit and didn’t comment so she said what needed to be said.

  “Look, Wesley. You’re father and I are going to be together whether you like it or not. Now, I know when our mommies and daddies make special friends it can sometimes be confusing—”

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  “Fine. I love your dad. He loves me. We’re together and you need to get over it.”

  “It won’t last.”

  She arched a brow. “What if I told you your dad already asked me to marry him?”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  She stretched and smiled, making herself comfortable. “Did too. Not once. Not twice. But three times. Tres. Trí. Trois. Drei.—”

  “All right. I get it.”

  “Do you?”

  He plopped onto the couch and dragged his hands over his face. “Yes.”

  “You don’t have to like me, but you have to accept this is how it’s gonna be whether you like me or not.”

  He groaned.

  She made herself comfortable. “Way I see it, we were raised in a house where the mother ruled the roost. If you promise to give me a chance and stop being such a tight ass dickweed, I promise not to beat you with a wooden spoon. We already established I’m tougher than you.”

  His face contorted with a look that could only be absolute bewilderment. “Where did you come from?”