Her Fill-In Fiancé (4 page)

Jake flinched at her words, and for the first time, Sophia wondered if his guilt and regret might be the real thing.

That, or he's playing you,
a cynical voice warned.
The same way he played you from the moment you met…or maybe even before that.

It wasn't like her to view every action with suspicion and doubt, but she'd been burned too many times before. If she let herself believe anything Jake said, she'd only be setting herself up for another heartache.

“Sophia—”

She shook her head, cutting off an apology she couldn't afford to accept. “My parents have been married for thirty-five years. I know how rare that is in this day and age, but in my family, people still believe that's the way it's supposed to be. That marriage is for life and family means everything. How am I supposed to admit that I'm pregnant and that the father of my child will always be this nameless, faceless nonentity in our lives? In my child's life?”

Sophia didn't mean for the words to keep spilling out, but once she started, she couldn't seem to stop. “But you! See, my aunt Donna met you! She thought you were a nice guy. I even had a few pictures from when we went out—to the ballgame, and the zoo.” Sophia shook her head. “You were a single bright spot amid everything that was going wrong in my life and—it was stupid to think that would be enough. But, I don't know, it just seemed like better than nothing.”

Her hands dropped uselessly to her sides, and she glanced up at Jake, anticipating his reaction. What she saw, though, was the last thing she expected. Tension had taken hold of his body, leaving behind taut lines of muscle and bone. “Jake—”

The back door opened before she could say anything more. Sam bounded inside, nearly running her down. “Sorry, sis,” he said as he caught her by the shoulders and steered her out of the way. Breaking up the tense moment with typical oblivion, he headed for the refrigerator. “Maddie says there's cake for dessert.”

Her mother followed a moment later. Far more perceptive than Sam—but who wasn't?—she looked back and forth between Sophia and Jake. “Is everything all right?”

Jake gave an abrupt nod as he escaped from the kitchen. Meeting her mother's puzzled look, Sophia forced a smile and said, “I'm, um, a little tired from the trip. I'd like to go lie down for awhile.”

“Oh, of course. Are your bags still in the car?”

“In the trunk,” she said.

“Sam, go get your sister's luggage when you're done in here.”

Backing out of the refrigerator with the sheet cake, Sam said, “Will do.”

Her mother linked her arm through Sophia's. “Your room is ready. If you need anything—well,” she said with a smile, “you probably know where it is.”

The house where she'd grown up hadn't changed that much over the years, and Sophia shouldn't have been surprised when her mother opened the door to her bedroom. Stuck in a time warp from Sophia's late teens, the room looked exactly as it had when she left. Same white wrought-iron day bed. Same rainbow of accent colors since she'd never been able to settle on just one or two—the candy-striped pink and white wallpaper, the lilac shag area rug,
the powder-blue comforter and vast array of throw pillows. She'd painted the furniture herself, taking the dresser and nightstand from plain white to wild mixes of polka dots, stripes, hearts and flowers.

Seeing it all, Sophia couldn't speak around the lump in her throat, but there was so much she wanted to say, so many explanations, so many apologies…

But Vanessa said the only words that mattered. “We've missed you, sweetheart. I'm so glad you're home.”

Surrounded by her childhood things and the unconditional love shining in her mother's eyes, the truth about the baby, about her job, about Jake bubbled up. “Mom—”

“I see you still haven't learned to pack light,” Sam remarked as he shouldered his way into the room, two suitcases in hand and one tucked beneath his arm like a football.

The opportunity to tell the truth dissipated like smoke, leaving behind only a hint of the chance she'd let slip by, and Sophia forced a smile at her brother. She'd brought almost everything she owned, unsure from day to day what clothes would still fit over her gradually expanding belly.

As soon as Sam swung the suitcases onto the bed, Vanessa said, “And let Jake know his room is ready, too, would you?”

Sophia froze in shock. “Jake? Jake's staying here?”

“Well, of course, dear,” her mother said with a frown. “You didn't think we'd expect him to take a room in town, did you?”

Sophia swallowed a lump of nerves. Keeping up the charade might have been Jake's idea, but she'd agreed to it, hadn't she? A pretend boyfriend was one thing. But how on earth was she supposed to handle the real Jake Cameron sleeping under the same roof only a few doors away?

W
hy would you do this?

Jake's hands tightened on the back porch railing as Sophia's words echoed through his thoughts. He wondered what her reaction would have been if he'd told her the truth.

He missed her. He missed her laughter, her smile, and that he'd considered admitting that, even for a split second, told Jake he was already in over his head.

He'd made the biggest mistake an investigator could—he'd gotten too close to the subject. He knew better than to let emotions rule his actions. Logic and patience and detached observation had made him a good private investigator, but for the second job in a row, he'd rushed in without thinking. His body was still healing from the painful lessons he'd learned in Mexico while the damage done in St. Louis…those wounds were harder to define, but they'd left him reeling. Especially since he still didn't know how Sophia had sneaked past his defenses.

Was it the evening they'd ended up missing their dinner reservation when she saw a small school carnival and wanted to stop? How she'd egged him on as he spent over twenty bucks popping balloons to win her a palm-sized stuffed unicorn? Was it the Cardinals game they went to and the thirty-minute rain delay they spent huddled beneath a shared umbrella, talking and laughing? Normal, everyday activities that made life—made
him
—feel normal again…

Or had it happened so much sooner than that? The night they first met, when he'd wrestled her bag away from a purse snatcher. He'd ended up with some scrapes on his hand, minor cuts Sophia had insisted on bandaging. The scratches had long since healed, but the soft brush of her skin against his lingered…

Jake let go of the railing and shoved his hands into his back pockets. It didn't really matter how or when it had happened. Only that he couldn't let Sophia crawl any deeper into his heart.

When Sophia told him she was pregnant with Todd Dunworthy's child, Jake had felt like the cruel hand of fate was trying to shove him down a rocky, heaving path, but it was a road he refused to go down again. He wouldn't. He
couldn't.

Even as he'd listened to Sophia talk about the father of her child—a nameless, faceless nonentity—unwanted memories of Mollie and Josh had crept in. Regret and failure clenched at his gut. It was enough to make Jake feel like
less
than nothing. Which was exactly what he'd ended up being to Josh despite his best attempts.

The back door opened behind him, and Sam said, “Hey, we've got dessert ready if Drew and Nick didn't already eat it all.”

He wasn't in the mood to eat or even to join the Pirelli family without Sophia at the table. He was glad when Sam
added, “And my mom wanted me to tell you your room's ready if you want to bring your stuff in from the car.”

The elder Pirellis had made the offer as soon as he arrived, but he'd expected to leave once Sophia showed up. Now, though, he forced himself to accept that he was going to stay. He owed this to Sophia.

If his presence made it easier for her to tell her parents about the baby, then he could stay a day or two. Just to make sure everything was all right and that Sophia was once again safely ensconced in the heart of her family.

 

After several sleepless nights leading up to her trip home, not to mention tossing and turning in unfamiliar hotel beds while on the road, Sophia expected to curl up into her old twin bed and fall asleep the second her head hit the floral-patterned pillow.

Instead, she found herself staring at the ceiling. Even her recent, slightly silly habit of singing lullabies beneath her breath to her unborn baby hadn't relaxed her. The excitement of the day had simply caught up with her; little wonder she couldn't sleep.

And Jake Cameron lying in bed down the hall has nothing to do with it,
her conscience mocked.

“Oh, hush,” she muttered to the voice that hadn't stopped harping at her all evening. Tossing aside the covers, she decided a glass of warm milk would be just the thing to quiet the annoying voice and send her right to sleep.

She'd never cared much for milk, but Theresa had frequently pressed a cold glass or warm mug into her hand. “Milk,” her cousin quipped, “it does a baby good.”

And Sophia was willing to do whatever it took to keep her baby healthy and happy.

A nightlight in the hall lit the way to the kitchen. She could have made it in total darkness, and Sophia had to admit
the familiarity gave her a sense of comfort she hadn't felt in years. But the feeling disappeared as she hurried by the closed guest room door.

She didn't need to think about Jake sprawled out across a queen bed that was likely too short for his long, lean frame…

Banishing the image from her mind, she rushed toward the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge. Blinking against the light spilling out as she opened the door, she reached for the half-gallon container.

“Can't sleep?”

Sophia gasped at the unexpected sound of a deep voice behind her. She spun around and for the first time noticed a dark shadow at the table. He still wore the jeans and T-shirt from earlier, and Sophia wondered how long he'd been sitting there. Her heart picked up its pace as Jake stood and crossed the small kitchen to stand in front of her. The single bulb that had seemed bright before now shone like a spotlight, emphasizing his tousled dark-blond hair, the rough stubble grazing his jaw, and she couldn't look away.

With the heat coming off Jake's body and the refrigerated air at her back, Sophia half expected a spontaneous tornado to sweep through the kitchen—a storm certainly seemed to be brewing inside her.

“Sophia.” His voice held a hint of warning, and her gaze instantly rose to meet his. The desire she saw there only amplified the longing spinning through her in ever tightening circles, spiraling down into a pinpoint focus. She wanted him to kiss her. To let the heat and urgency of his mouth against hers wipe away the past weeks. To turn back time to those few, short days when Jake Cameron was a man she could trust, a man she could count on…

Instead of a man who lied.

Realization hitting with an embarrassment that Jake could
so easily turn her on even though he
had
lied, Sophia spun back toward the fridge.

“Uh, no. I couldn't sleep.” She busied herself with taking out the milk, wishing she could press the cold container against her heated face. “I thought some warm milk might help. I can fix you some if you'd like.”

“I don't think warm milk will do the trick.”

As the refrigerator door swung shut, the kitchen was once again wrapped in semi-darkness. Just as well, since Sophia feared seeing more in Jake's expression than she wanted to know. She found a small saucepan right where it had always been and set it on the stove. “You know, just because we're pretending to be dating doesn't mean you have to stay. You could say something came up with work.”

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I missed your parents' anniversary party?”

“How did you—never mind. It's your job to know these things.”

Jake stepped closer, making it almost impossible for Sophia to keep her focus on the milk swirling in the small pan. “This is
not
part of my job.”

You're not hoping that he'll, I don't know, have some crazy explanation and that you guys can pick up where you left off—

Maybe Theresa was right not to pass on the message that Jake had called, Sophia thought, suddenly worried she might end up doing exactly what her cousin feared. That she'd be willing to believe anything Jake said as long as it meant picking up where they left off. Did he know, she wondered in pained embarrassment, how close she'd been to falling into bed with him? That if he'd pressed just a little, she would have gladly given in? And did he think even now it might be that easy again? That she would be that easy… “What about the mugger?”

“What?”

“The would-be purse snatcher and your timely rescue. Was that part of the job? Did you hire him the same way someone hired you?”

“No! No, I did not hire that guy!” He swore beneath his breath. “I would
never
do anything to purposely hurt you or anyone.”

He'd purposely lied, purposely fooled her into coming far too close to falling for him, and if Jake didn't know how much that had hurt, Sophia wasn't about to tell him. Her thoughts were still spinning, and her mind didn't know how to reconcile the man she thought she knew in St. Louis with the man she didn't know at all standing in her mother's kitchen. Unfortunately, judging by the awareness buzzing along her skin like an electrical current, her body didn't care. Whenever, wherever,
whoever
Jake Cameron was, she wanted him.

Crossing her arms over her stomach, she pointed out, “I wasn't hurt.”

“You were scared,” Jake said. “I wouldn't have put you through that,” he vowed, his handsome face showing only sincerity and honesty.

She longed to believe him, to trust in every word he said. Which only proved she was an even bigger fool than Jake thought. “So it was only a coincidence then?” she mocked. “You showing up right when I most needed a hero?”

After the way Todd treated her—lying, cheating, turning his back when she needed him most—Sophia had longed to believe nice guys still existed in the world. And Jake had so perfectly fit the bill.

From the moment they met, she'd seen something in Jake. Something in the golden flecks in his eyes, the faint wrinkles at the corners, the crooked smile that showed a flash of straight, white teeth. Or maybe it had been the hint of his
aftershave, a woodsy scent that reminded her of home—of comfort and safety—and she'd been so sure Jake Cameron was a man she could trust.

“I'm no hero, but I'm not a total jerk, either. It may not make any difference, but I care about you. If you don't believe anything else, I need you to believe that.”

If he was acting, Jake deserved an Oscar, but Sophia was no longer willing to take anything at face value. “How am I supposed to believe anything you say after the lies you told?”

“I told you the truth before I left.”

Another thing that left her as confused and uncertain as everything that had gone on before… “Why
did
you tell me the truth? Why not just say you had to go out of town and leave it at that? It wouldn't be the first time a guy stopped calling.”

“I didn't want to lie to you.”

Tossing up her hands in exasperation, Sophia had to battle to keep from yelling, well aware of her parents sleeping down the hall. “You'd been lying to me all along!”

“That was the job. Once it was over and I had the information I needed, it was personal.” His gaze skimmed over her—from the top of her tousled head to the too-thin pink T-shirt and drawstring pajama bottoms she wore to her bare feet—striking sparks that reminded Sophia of just how personal things had
almost
been. “And I didn't want to lie.”

His words wove a twisted kind of guy logic no woman could possibly comprehend, and Sophia didn't even try to figure it out; she was far too busy trying to understand why an explanation that made no sense could still start to melt the defenses around her heart.

 

Sophia woke the next morning to the familiar sound of her cell phone. Eyes still closed, she reached toward the
bedside table where she normally plugged the phone into its charger overnight. Her hand waved in thin air—no phone, no nightstand. Her eyes flew open and she remembered. Home, her parents, her brothers…Jake.

She groaned, tempted to pull the covers over her head and pretend the whole world away. But as Theresa's ringtone continued to play, Sophia knew she might as well face the music. Rolling over to the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed, she pulled the phone from her purse and brought it back beneath the covers with her.

She barely managed a muffled hello before Theresa said, “You were supposed to call.”

“I know, Theresa, and I'm sorry. I am. It's just that I got home and…”

Was Jake Cameron really here, in her childhood home, pretending to be her boyfriend? It seemed like so unreal that Sophia was afraid to say the words out loud in case it all turned out to be a dream. And, she admitted, even more afraid it
wasn't
a dream…

“Let me guess,” her cousin filled in when Sophia trailed off in silence, “does Jake Cameron have anything to do with leaving you speechless?”

“How did—”

“Do you honestly think after the way my mother flaunted the fact that she'd met Jake before your parents that your mother wouldn't call her to say he's staying with them? With you? That your
boyfriend
is staying with you? Sophia—”

Struggling to push aside the blankets with one hand, she said, “I can explain, Theresa.” And she could…only the explanation that still sounded crazy in her own head would likely sound even more so to her cousin. “He arrived before I did, and of course, my parents welcomed him with open arms. They had no reason not to, thanks to me,” she tacked on quickly before Theresa could. “Jake played along because
he didn't want to say anything before I had a chance to talk to them.”

“So how did they take it?” her cousin asked, her voice filled with sympathy.

Sophia bit her lip before admitting, “We're, um, kind of postponing that part of the truth until after the party.”

Anticipating her cousin's reaction, Sophia held the phone well away from her ear. Even so, she heard Theresa's response loud and clear. “What do you mean postponing? And who is
we?
”

“You don't understand, Theresa. For the first time in years, my family is looking at me without a boatload of concern and worry in their eyes. Like they're seeing me as Sophia instead of as their little
Fifi.
”