Page 38 of Fake To Forever

Chapter Fourteen: The Poolhouse

Haven

My nerves get the better of me, and I dive under the water and swim to the end of the pool and back again, hoping to clear my head more before I have to face Christian. By the time I come back out of the water, Christian’s on the edge of the pool, gazing down at me, a small grin playing at the corner of his lips.

“Having fun?” he asks, as I pull myself out of the water.

“Kind of,” I hedge, hurrying to grab my towel sitting in a nearby lounger. It feels a little weird being nearly naked around him, though I’m not entirely sure why. I mean yes, I don’t really know him, but I’m marrying the man.

So I should be able to get over feeling insecure, right?

After wrapping the towel around me, I turn to see that he’s taken off his suit coat and has his shirt sleeves rolled up past his forearms. They’re muscular and covered in dark hair that makes my fingers itch to run over them. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those wrapped around me again?

No… stop. Deep breaths. I can’t have these kinds of thoughts about him. Not now! Not when so much is still unsettled and messy.

He frowns slightly. “What does that mean? You don’t like the saltwater? The temperature?”

“No, no, the pool’s fine. Great, actually. I love to swim.” I towel myself off and notice that Christian is looking at me with a funny gleam in his eye.

“Is that right?”

I pause, brow raising slightly as I nod. “Um… yeah? Why?”

“Oh, nothing. Are you okay? You seem like something is bothering you. I thought you and your friend would be enjoying yourselves out here while I was gone.”

It wasn’t that I wasn’t enjoying myself with Marie. In fact, I wish she hadn’t left me to deal with Christian on my own, but I can’t have her holding my hand. I’m a grown woman, and this is my mess to deal with.

“Oh,” I finally sigh, letting my eyes gaze down to the droplets of water falling across my left arm. “We were. Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind right now and we haven’t exactly talked about the wedding and stuff. It’s just a bit stressful.”

When my gaze lifts to meet his, he’s still frowning. Blue eyes set on me as if something I said troubles him. “I don’t want you to be stressed out by all of this.”

A snort of laughter escapes me at his words. “It’s kind of hard to not be stressed. A wedding is already stressful as it is, but trying to explain our relationship to everyone else in my life who knows very well that I haven’t been dating you, yet I’m marrying you is an entirely different situation.”

“Well, then… I guess we need to fix you being stressed. At least right now,” he says as his frown quickly disappears and that once hungry expression returns to his eyes. “Have you seen the pool house yet?”

I blink, caught off guard by the question. “Um… no, I haven’t.”

How did anything I just say lead to seeing the pool house?

He reaches out and takes my hand. My breath becomes short just from his touch. My eyes are wide as I try to understand what the hell is running through his mind.

“Let’s go, then.”

He leads me toward the smaller building opposite the house and unlocks the door, pushing it open and gesturing for me to step inside. I hesitate, feeling a sudden rush of nerves and slight irritation. Why in the hell would he be wanting to show me the pool house when I literally just expressed that I was stressed out about our situation?

The pool house is as impressive as I expected, with an open floor plan that makes the space feel even larger. There’s a plush sectional couch in the center of the room, a small kitchenette off to the side, and a wall of windows that offers an unobstructed view of the pool and the dark sky beyond. The décor is minimal, modern, but there’s a warmth to it that surprises me—a few personal touches that hint at the man behind the polished exterior.

“Wow,” I finally say softly as awkward silence drifts between us. “This is—nice.”

Confusion still fills me as to why we’re out here when Christian walks over to the windows, his hands in his pockets as he gazes out at the pool.

“It’s nothing too fancy,” he replies, his tone almost casual, but there’s a tension in his posture, a tightness in his voice that tells me he’s more on edge than he’s letting on.

“It’s beautiful,” I assure him. “Maybe we can talk about everything in here? Out of the house and away from prying ears?”

It’s just a thought process, but one that I prefer. I don’t exactly need the new nanny or any of the staff potentially spreading to anyone about mine and Christian’s situationship that we’ve gotten ourselves into.

Though, as I step towards him, I can’t help but feel some sort of way. Being out here, alone with him, away from prying eyes. It’s only the second time I’ve been alone with him like this and the first turned into a kiss I’ll never be able to forget.

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