Curvy Fake Wife for the Player

22. Sasha

Chapter 22

Sasha

M y shoulders sagged as we checked out the fifth venue in four hours. They were all gorgeous venues, with curling staircases, vibrant gardens, bell towers, archways, gazebos and anything else that a little girl might dream up for her wedding day. They were stunning and they were overpriced, which wasn’t a problem for Alex. But there was another problem with each and every single venue. “It’s too much for a small wedding.”

Alex kept his hand closed around mine, nodding his agreement. “They are all great, Diana, but my lovely bride is right, it’s too much for an intimate ceremony.”

The woman gave a tight-lipped smile, disappointed that she wouldn’t be responsible for throwing a wedding for one of the biggest athletes in the country. “I’m sorry to hear that, but we have a sister site that might suit you.” She handed me a business card and offered a smile for Alex. “Good luck. And congratulations.”

Jack was a bit of an overbearing ass, but I was grateful to him for suggesting we move the wedding forward. It was exhausting and we were only a few hours into planning a fake wedding. “How about we just stop at the courthouse on our way back to the penthouse?”

He sighed and pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. “We’d still have to wait seventy-two hours.” He led me out of the venue and into the waiting car, stopping just long enough to smile for the cameras. “Besides it’ll look like I’m ashamed of you or like you said, that we have something to hide.”

Fair enough. “Then how about we find a place that can accommodate about fifty or so guests and that can do a wedding and reception in one place? Less planning for us.” We had exactly one month to put together a wedding fit for a hockey star.

His eyes lit up. “I know just the place. I used to stay at the Andromeda when I came to visit Dante so the photographers wouldn’t camp out at his place and frighten Lena.” Excitement lit his eyes and highlighted his stunning good looks, so fine I had to look away. “Damn near every time I stayed, there was a wedding happening.”

“Okay. Let’s go there.” I was hopeful that this place would be everything we needed because I was tired and bored, and most of all I didn’t want to waste a wedding venue I might want to use one day for a real wedding.

A real marriage.

Two hours later we didn’t just have a wedding venue and a reception hall—all in one place, thank you very much—but it was booked and the deposit was paid. It was done. Alex and I were getting married. “It’s not too late to back out,” I teased.

“Don’t even think about it, sweetheart. You’re wearing my ring. You’re mine.” The intensity in his gaze startled me, it stole my breath.

In that moment I realized that I wanted it to be real. Shit that was bad. Really bad. “That means you’re mine, Winger.”

His gaze heated when I said that, the same way they heated the last time I called him that. “Keep it up and we’ll really give them something to photograph.” Alex wiggled his brows, mouth split into a heart-stopping smile that sent fire rushing through my veins. “In fact,” he said with a devilish glint in his green eyes. “Let’s do that.” And then he pulled me close, kissing the hell out of me, devouring my mouth while at least a dozen cameras snapped our image and who knows how many phone cameras.

I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around him and accepted his masterful kiss like it was my birthright. I don’t know how long we stood there in the lobby of the famed Andromeda Hotel, kissing like two people really in love, like two people who couldn’t get enough of each other. I breathed in his scent and savored the feel of his body pressed up against mine, the way his hands grazed up and down my back like he was trying to decide whether or not to grab my ass.

Alex pulled back, breathless and smiling. “Let’s get out of here.”

Yes, please. “Where are we going?”

“To celebrate.”

It wasn’t what I wanted to hear but after what happened yesterday, I was glad one of us had our head screwed on straight. We still hadn’t talked about what happened between us yesterday, as in the mind-altering, axis-tilting, heart-stopping sex—and it looked like Alex had no desire to talk about it. Which was fine. Really, it was fine.

I just needed to push it all out of my head. To stop thinking about Alex in all his naked glory, the way he felt sliding into my body, the intensity and the vigor with which he gave me orgasms. Stop! No! I wasn’t thinking about it and I wasn’t thinking about him.

Period.

I was still not thinking about Alex or his bronzed skin and tempting smile two days later as I combed through wedding invitations. The invitations made this real and as I looked through card weights, script types and RSVP cards, this all suddenly become very real. Or more real, I suppose. The weight of what we were doing settled all around me, which helped me keep my mind off Alex. Off sex with Alex.

Unfortunately thinking about Alex naked and growling my name like he couldn’t get enough of me was preferable to thinking about inviting my parents to the wedding. Mom would be hurt that I didn’t tell her I was dating anyone, and more so that I didn’t let her help me plan the wedding. And my dad, well he probably wasn’t sober enough to care either way.

It didn’t matter to me, not really. My father hadn’t been an active part of my life for most of my life, but they would both be invited or it might reflect badly on Alex and that would defeat the whole purpose of this charade.

Dixie babbled beside me as I picked three invitations for Alex to approve even though he probably won’t care. “What do you think, baby girl?”

Her gummy smile was brilliant as she gave me her answer, incoherent as it was.

“Cool. Let’s hope your dad thinks so too.” My shoulders fell in disappointment. My feelings were becoming complicated and Alex and I weren’t even married yet. I needed to get a damn grip, to shove whatever I thought I was feeling down deep until it was forgotten.

The sound of my phone ringing pulled me from thoughts of my husband-to-be and my complicated feelings, and to the present and another set of complicated feelings. “Hey Mom.”

“Sasha, how are you?”

“Good, Mom. How are things?” I let out a silent sigh, wishing our conversations were less stilted and more along mother-daughter lines.

“Good,” she sighed. “Always good. Are you still working?”

“I am.” Why was this so hard? “I’m glad you called because I have some news. I’m getting married.” A long silence descended and I held my breath waiting for a derisive or disappointed comment, but none came. “Mom?”

“I’m here, Sasha. I’m just trying to figure out when you started dating someone and why is this the first I’m hearing of it, when it seems all of the entertainment industry already knows.”

Because you made your choice and it wasn’t me. “You know why, Mom. I’m telling you now.”

“Are you pregnant?”

“No, Mom. I’m not pregnant. Listen, come if you want. I’ll send you an invitation.”

“Do you want us there?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s never been the issue, Mom and you know it. I always want you there but you made your choice every time. Come if you want, Mom. It would be great to see you.”

“It would be great to see you too. I miss you, Sasha.”

“I miss you too, Mom.” But it was her choice to stay with my father after everything so this is what our relationship was reduced too. “I hope you come.” But I wouldn’t hold my breath. “I need to get back to work, Mom. Love you.” I ended the call before she tried to bring my father into the conversation again.

Dixie grunted which meant it was time for a diaper change and it was a sad state of affairs when that was a better option than talking to my mother. I realized what a horrible thought that was considering that Dixie may never see her mother again.

The front door opened and closed and my stupid belly flipped knowing that Alex was home. Down girl, none of this is real. Okay, the orgasms were real but those didn’t count. They didn’t come with love and affection, they were just physical urges. This was for his career, his image and for something that Jack had called his Q Score. This wasn’t about me, I was just convenient.

As always, my mere existence was convenient. For my parents and now for my fiancé. I needed to remember that.

“Hey, how are my girls?” Alex flashed a brilliant smile as he leaned against the door in the nursery.

“Good. Productive day at the rink?”

He shrugged. “Pretty good. You?”

“Fine,” I sighed. “I have three options for you to choose from for invitations.”

“Excellent,” his smile brightened and my heart leapt in my chest. “Thank you for taking care of that.”

“What are fiancées for if not wedding planning duties?” I picked up Dixie and handed her to Alex since she was reaching for him anyway. It was a good thing that she recognized his face and his voice, that she knew he was someone she could rely on because he was all she really had.

“Hey Dixie, you smell good.” He kissed her cheek and smiled affectionately at her and it was so damn cute I had no choice but to look away.

“Excuse me,” I murmured and slipped past father and daughter to give them some privacy. That was a lie, I needed a moment to get myself together. I couldn’t waste time nursing this crush on my boss and future husband, not when it wasn’t returned and definitely not when it could never be anything more than whatever it was at this moment.

That’s enough, I told myself. Alex was nice to look at, he was kind and this would be an easy two years of marriage.

Mostly.

“Hey, Sash,” Alex called out and I couldn’t stop the shiver at his use of the nickname he’d made up. “These invitations look great. All of them.”

I met him in the living room where the laptop with the invitations filled the screen. “All you have to do is choose one.”

He glanced at the screen, giving each one a solid fifteen seconds of thought before he moved on to the next. His smile grew and he went back to the second choice. “This one.”

My favorite one too. “I’ll send it to the printers now so we should have them sometime tomorrow.” My eyes darted around the living room in search of something else—anything else—to look at other than his gorgeous smile. “One more thing done,” I said as my gaze darted around. “Only about a thousand more to go.”

Alex laughed and set Dixie in her swing. “We’re almost done. Just a few more things to go and a month from tomorrow we’ll be married and this will all be a distant memory.”

“I admire your optimism.”

His smile brightened. “Thanks.” Alex took a step forward and then another. To the outside observer he resembled a predator as he slowly stalked his prey—me—who was powerless to outrun him or his advances. “What else do you admire?”

I laughed and gave his chest a shove but he wrapped one hand around my wrist and pulled me close. “Need your ego stroked, Alex?”

His smile was slow and fiery like a smoldering fire with a magnetic core that pulled me in. “It’s not my ego that needs stroking, Sash.”

My head fell back and I laughed and in the next second, one hand cupped the back of my head and then his mouth crashed down on mine, his tongue swept across my lips in a drugging back and forth motion that sent fire pumping through my veins. Back and forth he went until I couldn’t breathe and on that gasp, Alex slipped between my lips and his tongue laid siege inside my mouth, taming me into submission. I clung to his broad shoulders and pressed my body closer to his, hungry for more even though I shouldn’t be.

Alex’s hands roamed my body, admiring, no, worshipping my curves. His big hands cradled the small of my back, leaning me over just enough that I was completely at his mercy while he devoured me.

And I let him. Hell, I encouraged it, pressing my curves against him and holding him tighter. I wanted more. I needed more, and that thought scared the hell out of me.

I pulled back with wide eyes, heart pounding as I realized just how much I wanted this man. “I, um, I need to go do…something.” And then like the coward I was, I ran and locked myself in my room.