The Mostly Real McCoy (Apple Valley Love Stories #1)

by Julie Christianson

Mr. Well-Built glances down at his formidable chest, completely unfazed. Of course a piece of plastic ricocheting off a marble statue wouldn’t hurt the statue. I’m surprised the man even felt it. Maybe he doesn’t feel anything at all.

“You have this big, big heart, Brooke. Your heart’s so big that when it breaks, well, it breaks bigger than other people’s hearts.”

“I’m not some car you can get towed, Mac.” Her eyes flash. “I’m not broken.” I feel the cords along my neck tighten. “I definitely don’t think you’re broken.”

I’d only expected to give him a quick peck, but Mac wraps his arms around me and draws me in closer. His lips are so tender, brushing against mine, slowly drinking me in. My bones turn to liquid. I’m a puddle of milk. This isn’t just a kiss. We are actually kissing. With an ing. Oh my, Brooke. I should stop this. Instead we keep on K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

And sure, I know we’re just pretending, but I’m giving Brooke my strongest work anyway. And at the same time, I’m learning that my fake wife’s awfully good at this. When she finally pulls away, it’s like velcro detaching from me. I don’t want our closeness to end. Not now. Not ever. In fact, I’m pretty sure I want to keep kissing this woman for the rest of my life.

Brooke waits for me to sit before settling on my lap. She fits perfectly in my arms. Like a puzzle piece I didn’t know was missing. As she leans against me, I catch her scent. Not perfume or lotion. Just Brooke’s own one-of-a-kind sweetness.

I raise myself on tip toes, face tilted up as he lowers his chin. When we’re a breath apart, I let go of his hands to wrap my arms around his neck. His hands move to my waist, strong and sure. Pulling me close. My fingers tangle in his hair. I draw him to me. And then. His mouth brushes mine. I taste his lips and this is real. He is real. I am real.

“That’s pretty much what I’ve been doing my whole life. Until I met you. Everything before that was just practice. But this is real now.”

I untangle our fingers and press the ring into his hand. The palm is warm. And rough. And everything I want. “But real isn’t enough.”