Her Fill-In Fiancé (5 page)

Theresa's mispronunciation of
Sophia
when they were both toddlers had been the start of the nickname that had followed Sophia well into her teens. She'd convinced most of her family, Sam excluded, to call her by her given name, but she couldn't help feeling she'd done little to change how they thought of her.

“The party's next weekend,” she added, “and I'll come clean then. What's the harm in waiting?”

Theresa's silence rang with disapproval. “What's the harm?” she asked finally. “I'd say Jake Cameron is.”

 

After reassuring Theresa that she would not be foolish enough to fall for Jake's lies a second time—and making herself the same promise—Sophia slipped out of bed and pulled on the robe Theresa had given her last Christmas. Sophia could hardly miss the irony of the words scrolling across the comfortable flannel.

You've gotta kiss a lot of frogs…

She couldn't say
two
was a lot, but it was two too many as far as she was concerned.

Cracking open the bedroom door, she listened to the silence for several seconds before rushing into the bathroom across the hall. For a woman who'd only moments ago sworn Jake Cameron was totally harmless, why was her pulse pounding like she'd made a narrow escape?

“I'm just not ready to face him yet this morning,” she murmured as she pulled her toothbrush from her small makeup bag on the vanity. Morning sickness threatened, and catching sight of her bleary eyes and sleep-rumpled hair, she groaned. “Definitely not ready.”

Following a long, reviving shower, Sophia wrapped a towel turban-style around her wet hair, tightened the belt on her robe and prepared to dash back to her bedroom. It seemed silly now, but one of her big dreams in leaving home had been to finally have a bathroom of her own—no brothers or roommates to share with. Yet like so many of her goals, Sophia had failed to meet that one, too.

Sophia took a deep breath and opened the door.
Soon¸
she thought. Soon she'd be back in Chicago, looking for an entire apartment for her and her baby. She had a new job lined up, too, working with a friend who was about to start her own catering company. She would still be working in the service industry, waiting hand and foot on the rich and impossible, but it was a good job. Plus, along with handling the bookkeeping, Christine's mother had agreed to babysit for Sophia. And while a catering service might have not be Sophia's dream, it was Christine's, and helping her friend achieve that dream would be good enough. She'd have her apartment, she'd have her job, and she'd have her little one.

“Nice robe.” The voice at her back froze Sophia in her tracks when really she should have started running down the hall. “And I thought the pig apron was bad.”

She heard the smile in Jake's voice, but she refused to turn and face him. Still, she could feel him step closer, could
sense the head-to-toe path his golden gaze traveled along her body. Despite the hot shower only moments earlier, goose bumps rose on her arms, and she fought against a shiver tracing fingers down her spine. “I—I like this robe.” Glancing down at the pink material emblazoned with a crown-wearing amphibian, she added, “I think it's appropriate.”

“Kissed a lot of frogs lately, princess?”

At his faint mockery, Sophia turned to face Jake. His hair was still damp from his own shower, and she caught a hint of the soap her mother had been buying for years, a clean, simple scent that smelled so much more intriguing on him. He'd shaved away the shadow of beard from last night, and she had the crazy thought that she should have let him kiss her, should have had the chance to feel the rasp of stubble against her skin…

“It's a reminder,” she insisted, tightening her grip on the robe's neckline as if that might help keep her heated thoughts under wraps, “not to kiss any more.”

“Given up finding Prince Charming?”

“Given up on believing in him,” she muttered.

“Sophia—”

Whatever Jake might have said was lost as her mother's familiar call rang out from the kitchen. “Sophia, sweetie, breakfast is almost ready!”

Jake glanced over his shoulder with an almost bemused smile. “Breakfast,” he echoed.

“I heard. Blueberry waffles with real maple syrup.”

“Is that what your mother usually makes?”

“Nope. Just my favorite.” And Sophia had little doubt it was what her mother had made for her first morning back.

Jake seemed to realize that, too. “You've got a great family.”

“I know.” She loved them all and knew they loved her—even Nick, who'd be the last to admit it. They loved her
despite all her mistakes, but Sophia wanted more than that. She wanted to be the daughter, sister,
mother
her family could be proud of. She wanted to erase the
no matter what
that always seemed to hang over her family's
I love yous.

Jake stepped closer, regaining her complete attention, as he brushed her damp bangs off her forehead. “When you tell them about the baby, they're going to support you.”

Another case of loving her and worse, loving her child,
despite
her mistakes. “I know they will,” she whispered, “no matter what.”

“Sophia.” Sympathy and understanding shone in his golden gaze, the same combination that had so easily slipped through her defenses. What was it about Jake that made her feel like she could tell him anything? Even now that she knew better, why did she still want to open her heart and share her dreams with him? Dreams she'd never told her family, too afraid she'd see nothing but the mistakes of the past and doubts written in their eyes…

“Your family will be right here to help take care of the baby.”

Right here in Clearville…
The idea of staying in her hometown was so far from the plan Sophia had for herself and her child, she blinked in surprise. “It'll be a little hard for them to help when they're here and I'm back in Chicago.”

A heartbeat of silence pulsed between them before Jake demanded, “Chicago? What are you talking about?”

“Chicago. Where I live,” she pointed out, seeing but not understanding the dark scowl that crossed his face at her words. “We met in St. Louis, but you
know
I live in Chicago.”

“I know you
lived
there. When you came back here—”

“For my parents' anniversary, for a visit.” A long overdue visit, guilt reminded her, stabbing at her conscience. “After my parents' party—” and after she came clean about everything “—I'm going back.”

“To raise your baby alone?”

His voice had risen, and Sophia instinctively stepped forward and lifted a hand to his mouth. “My parents…” Her words trailed off as her worry about her family overhearing drifted away. The brush of Jake's lips against her palm sent a shiver running up her arm. Goosebumps spread across her chest, and the awareness in his gaze as it drifted lower made it nearly impossible for Sophia to find the strength to step back when all she really wanted was to wrap her arms around him, press her body to his, and kiss him until they could
both
pretend what they'd had in St. Louis was real…

Swallowing hard, she backed away on shaky limbs and clutched at the gaping lapels of the robe. “I, um, don't want them to find out like this.”

It might not have been her intention, but Jake's voice was certainly lower when he told her, “I don't get it, Sophia. What's left for you in Chicago? You lost your job, your home.”

She flinched at the reminder, the words harder to hear coming from him. “I know what I'm doing, Jake.” She could have told him about the little apartment she had in mind, about the job with Christine and her idea of a future that kept her baby first and foremost in mind. But those plans were still up in the air. So far, she hadn't actually found that little apartment and Christine's business wasn't up and running—yet. But until she had a signed lease and business cards in hand, she was keeping her plans to herself.

And besides… “The Dunworthys offered me a great severance package, remember?”

They'd paid—and paid well—for Sophia to keep her mouth shut and to disappear.

“Money is
not
going to give your child everything he needs,” Jake said flatly.

Sophia blinked, caught off guard at his use of the word
“he.” From the moment she discovered she was pregnant, she'd had the feeling her baby was a boy. She'd mentally tried out a dozen boy names, had pictured a little boy's room filled with trucks and trains and bright primary colors.

“Sophia, listen—”

“No, Jake.” She was already reading far too much into everything little he said. “I don't expect you to understand, but I've made my decision.”

Leaving Jake standing in the hall, Sophia did what she should have in the first place and hurried into her bedroom. She leaned against the closet door, wishing she could block out her own thoughts as easily.

A mother-to-be could be excused for a harmless daydream about the little boy she might soon hold in her arms. But to think Jake shared—or worse, belonged—in that imaginary world simply because of his use of a pronoun was anything but harmless.

F
or as long as Sophia could remember, her brothers had met at Rolly's Diner on Mondays. Years ago, they'd gone there after school. Later, they'd met for lunch as long as their schedules allowed, and Sophia was pretty sure Drew and Sam would be there today.

Her hands tightened on the wheel as she came to the stop sign just before Clearville's Main Street. For a split second, she wished she'd asked Jake to come along, if only to provide a bit of a buffer between her and her brothers and a distraction from the town gossip mill. Her return was bound to stir up stories of the past, and by no means was Sophia opposed to throwing some of that attention on Jake.

But her dad had offered to show Jake around what was left of the family farm, and Sophia had begged off with the excuse that she was still tired from the trip. She probably should have been more concerned about leaving Jake alone with her father, but he'd likely be better at keeping up the
charade than she. He was really good at this kind of thing. She had seen that for herself.

He'd lied to her and used her…and now she was using him to lie to her parents.

As she drove down Main Street, Sophia forced the worries from her mind as she took in the Victorian houses that lined the road—the unique color schemes in powder-blue, purple and white setting each house apart from its neighbor, the wide, welcoming porches, the turrets and gingerbread trim. The quaint village and old-fashioned shops were a draw for the tourists and the town's main source of commerce.

Finding a parking place along the crowed side street in front of Rolly's, she squeezed in between two oversized pickups, silent advertising that the diner catered to locals rather than tourists, and climbed from her car.

Sophia took a deep breath before pulling the diner door open. If people in Clearville weren't already aware that she was back in town, they would know by the end of the afternoon rush.

As she stepped into the diner, the scent of fried foods and no-frills black coffee hitting her, she scanned the red vinyl booths laid out on the black-and-white-checkered floor and the barstools lining the stainless-steel counter.

A young waitress behind the counter caught her eye. “If you're looking for your brothers, they're sitting in one of the back tables.”

“Um, thanks,” Sophia murmured. She was pretty sure she'd never met the bubbly brunette before, and she'd lived in Chicago long enough to welcome the anonymity offered by a big city. She could go anywhere and do anything without a single person paying attention.

Here, even total strangers knew who she was.

Discomfited by the thought, Sophia headed toward the back of the diner, her gaze focused straight ahead. Even so,
she could hear the silence that fell as she passed tables filled with the breakfast crowd and then the whispers, rising and falling like the sound of the tide.

It was all she could do not to turn tail and run like she had five years ago.

It's only for a few days,
she reminded herself.
Only until the anniversary party, and then we're out of here. Back to Chicago where I can disappear in a crowd.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the back arch-way. The “new” section of the diner had been an add-on twenty-some years ago to include tables large enough to offer more seating than the typical four-person booth. Or in this case, large enough to accommodate her three brothers.

To Sophia's surprise, Nick sat on one side of the table across from Sam and Drew. Nick had stopped joining them once he got married and Sophia hadn't realized he'd returned since the divorce. She might have been glad to see him getting out if not for the frown on his face and the way all three stopped talking as soon as they spotted her.

You too, huh?

Ignoring the queasiness in her stomach that reminded her of morning sickness and everything she had yet to tell her family, Sophia forced a smile and claimed the last empty spot at the table. “Hey, guys. I thought I might find you here.”

“Can't say we expected to see you,” Sam replied, a lift to his eyebrows.

“I wanted to talk to you three about the parents' anniversary party, and it's not like we can do that at home, so here I am.”

“Where's your
boyfriend?
” Nick asked.

Sophia froze as she reached for the laminated menu standing up between the salt and pepper shakers. Had Nick picked up on the tension between her and Jake? Did her oldest brother sense something wasn't quite right? Opening
the menu, she sneaked a glance at Nick and immediately breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the scowl on his face. Nick was simply being his normal, antagonistic self.

“Dad's showing him around.” Returning to the original subject, she said, “So, about the party, what do you have planned so far?”

Drew and Sam exchanged a look Sophia recognized all too well. “We told you,” Sam said as if she hadn't been paying attention. “We want to have a party.”

“But where's this party being held? Who's handling the food? Is there entertainment? Who have you invited?” The more questions she asked, hoping to spark some kind of response, the more blank her brothers' stares became.

Finally, Sam said, “We were just gonna invite a bunch of people to the house.”

“What? And have Mom cook for everyone?”

“Well…”

“Sam! You can't expect the guest of honor at a
surprise
party to do all of the cooking!”

“See?” Drew interjected. “I told you that wouldn't work.”

“What do you mean? It always works! When have we ever showed up at home and Mom didn't have food for us to eat?” He pointed a fork her way. “Your boyfriend dropped in unannounced, and Mom fed him, didn't she?”

“Yeah, but Jake did do most of the cooking, manning the grill.”

Sam's eyes lit at Drew's reminder. “Hey, that's an idea. The guests can cook their own food and—”

“No! You can't do that! Honestly, Sam, haven't you ever been to a party that didn't involve beer in a cooler and food served on paper plates?”

His teasing grin faded slightly. “Sorry, sis, I guess it's like you've always said. We're just too small-town for your tastes.”

“I never said that.”

“Maybe not,” Nick cut in, his first effort to join the conversation. “But actions speak louder than words, right? And you split the moment you graduated high school.”

Sophia sucked in a quick breath, surprised how much her brothers' words could hurt. “That's not fair.”

An argument rose up inside in defense against the anger and bitterness in her oldest brother's expression, but then she thought of Maddie, of all the little girl had lost, and the words withered and died. She couldn't know her decision to leave Clearville would inspire Carol to do the same, but it had, and no matter how many times she tried to explain her reasons to Nick, he refused to see her leaving as anything other than deserting her family—just like Carol deserted him and Maddie five years ago.

The warmth of a hand curving around the back of her neck first made Sophia jump, but she instantly relaxed, her body recognizing Jake's touch almost before her mind registered his voice. “Hey, sweetheart, sorry I'm late.”

He couldn't be late since he hadn't been invited, but she turned with a smile anyway.
Playing along,
she insisted, but the awareness rushing through her warned Sophia it was more than that.

His hand on her neck flexed ever so subtly in response to whatever he saw in her face. Heat rising to her cheeks, she quickly refocused on the menu and said, “Not to worry. You're right in time.”

Jake grabbed a free chair from a nearby table and wedged himself in between Sophia and Sam. Her brother frowned, forced to give up territory he'd already claimed. “Didn't know you were on the parents' anniversary planning committee, Jake.”

“I'm here to help Sophia…any way I can.” His words
might have been directed at Sam, but there was no question that Jake had his gaze locked on her eldest brother.

“From the sound of things, we can use all the help we can get. Don't you think, Nick?” Drew said.

His attempt, Sophia knew, to smooth things over, but it would take more than that to work on Nick's sharp edges. She and Nick had rarely, if ever, seen eye to eye. Their constant discord might have been uncomfortable, but it was familiar, like the high-backed wooden chairs that had once circled Grandma Pirelli's dining room table.

Far less familiar was the comfort of Jake at her side,
on
her side.

After a tense stare-down, Nick shoved away from the table, pulled out his wallet and tossed a few bills beside his plate.

“Where are you going?” Sam demanded. “We've got a party to plan, and, dude, if anyone needs a good party—”

“Let me know what you need and when it'll be, and I'll show.” Nick tossed the words over his shoulder as he walked out of the diner without a glance back.

Sam sank back in his chair with a sigh. “Well, I'm thinking Nicky should be in charge of entertainment since he's such a joy to be around lately.”

Drew's brown eyes narrowed as he stared out the door where their brother had disappeared. “Maybe we should cut Nick a little slack,” he suggested with a glance at Sophia. “You coming home for the parents' party has struck a nerve.”

“I'd think he'd be angry if I
didn't
show up. Instead he's ticked off that I'm here?”

Sam shrugged. “Maddie's best friend went to Disneyland over spring break, and ever since, Maddie's been dying to go. Carol wants to take her there over the summer.”

“Eleven months out of the year, Nick's the one making sure Maddie eats her veggies and does her homework and
brushes her teeth. The few weeks that Carol has her, life is all Christmas and Disneyland.”

“And here I am,” Sophia said, following Drew's explanation, “showing up for the good times…”

Running away from the bad…

She could feel the question in Jake's gaze, and the weight of guilt as Sam and Drew tried hard
not
to look at her. “Maybe I need to back out of planning anything. The party was your baby, and I shouldn't have come in acting like I have all the ideas.”

Sam and Drew exchanged a look. “You
do
have all the ideas,” Drew pointed out. “Don't you bail on us, too.”

“Come on, Jake. Back us up on this one. We're guys, right? Tell Fifi here that we can't do this without her.”

Sophia rolled her eyes, ready to tell Jake he didn't have to second anything Sam said in the name of guyhood, but before the words could form, Jake shifted toward her. He caught her right hand and ran his thumb up her palm, where he started turning the ring she wore on her middle finger around and around.

It was a subconscious habit she'd had for years, spinning the ring when she was nervous or stressed, and yet when Jake played with the silver filigree band, a completely different tension gripped her. Desire quivered low in her belly, along with a feeling of being completely exposed.

If Jake had picked up on her insignificant habit of twisting her ring, what else did he see? How easily he could turn her on with nothing more than a simple touch? How she could fall for him as quickly in Clearville as she had in St. Louis even though now—now she knew his tenderness, his sincerity, was all for show?

Stressing her given name, he said, “Sophia already knows I can't do without her.”

Sam cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, well, then you
know we're in pretty deep here. Especially if you won't help us,
Sophia.
”

She used her brother's blatant whining as an excuse to extract her hand from Jake's. She was surprised the ring hadn't melted into goo right along with her resistance and self-control, but the silver band looked exactly the same as she reached for her purse. Pretending that she too was still cast in stone, she said, “All right. I'll help.”

As she pulled out a pen and paper, she was suddenly glad her brothers had done so little with the anniversary party. It would give her something else to think about. She'd seen and even served at plenty of high society parties while working for the Dunworthys. Not that she planned to turn her parents' anniversary into a star-studded gala, but she'd learned a thing or two from Mrs. Dunworthy when it came to delegating duties and hosting an awesome event.

“Okay, Sam, why don't you and Drew handle drinks and food? We can talk to the manager here and see if they'll cater. I bet we could even hire some of their waitstaff to man a buffet table and make sure the food stays hot and the serving trays stay full.

“If we can come up with an excuse to get Mom and Dad away from the house for a few hours the morning of the party, that should be enough time to bring in the tables and chairs. Drew, maybe you can take them out to one of your construction sites,” she mused. “Instead of gifts, I think we should set up a donation fund for a charity…”

Sophia's voice trailed away when she realized her brothers were staring at her in slack-jawed…something.

“What?” she asked, somewhat defensively.

“Nothing.” Drew shrugged. “This is just—a new side of you.”

The non-screwup side, Sophia figured was what he meant.
A side she hadn't shown nearly often enough growing up. “I—I'd like this party to be special for Mom and Dad.”

In an uncharacteristically sweet move, Sam reached over and tugged at the ends of her short hair, the way he used to pull at her pigtails when she was young. “You're here, Fif. That's better than a party as far as Mom and Dad are concerned, and you know it.”

She did know it, just like she knew Sam was trying to make her feel better. But instead his words only added to her guilt for having been gone so long—and for knowing she wasn't going to stay.