Drew + Fable Forever (One Week Girlfriend #3.5)(8)
Author: Monica Murphy

Complete.

Turning her head, she kisses my wrist. My hands are planted on either side of her head, my arms stiff, my muscles quaking. It’s taking everything within me to hold back, restrain myself. All I want to do is thrust again and again. Fuck her straight into the mattress until she’s gasping and screaming my name, our sweaty bodies clinging to each other until we finally come down from our high.

“Harder,” she urges as if she can read my mind and yet again, I’m pretty sure she probably can. I feel like I can read hers, too. It’s damn scary. It’s also comforting, to know you have that other person out there who’s just for you. Before meeting Fable I’d been suffocating with loneliness, not really living, just going through the motions. I didn’t believe I deserved anyone. I felt incomplete. A piece of me was missing all those years, especially the last few before I found her.

And I quickly realized she was that missing piece, the one that fit me so perfectly, I’d have to be a fool to let her go. Which I did. I ran away like an idiot and then found her again by pure dumb luck, or fate, or whatever you want to believe.

It doesn’t really matter, because now we’re together and nothing can stop us. Our biggest obstacles are past us. We can move on and forge a life together. It might be a little rough while we live separately during the regular season, but we’ll see each other as much as we can. Besides, it’s only for a couple of months. And then it’s only a couple of years until Owen graduates high school.

What’s the worst that can happen?

Chapter Four

Drew

We’re in Carmel, the scene of many crimes, so to speak, both literally and figuratively. I’m on edge and f**king uncomfortable because I’ve brought Fable here with me. She hasn’t returned since her one week as my fake girlfriend.

Now she’s here as my very real wife.

Dad wanted to throw a reception for us at his new home. Thank God he’d moved, or I wouldn’t have been able to go back like this. It would have been too uncomfortable, both for me and for Fable. I don’t think I could have endured it. I don’t think she could, either.

The new house is amazing. Not as large as the old one but considering he’s living here alone, Dad doesn’t need some grand mansion. He’s older now, traveling more, and he seems in better spirits. After what happened with Adele killing herself and his finding out what went on between Adele and me, he retreated into himself. We spoke, but it was difficult. He went to counseling. I even went to a few of his sessions, but damn, those had been tough.

There’s a lot of pain inside him over what Adele did to me. A lot of guilt, too, and I can relate to that. Putting us together in the same room trying to discuss it is extremely difficult. First of all, we’re guys. And second of all, we’re Callahan men. I think it’s hard for us to talk about our feelings.

Fine. I know it’s hard for us to talk about our feelings.

For the most part, we’ve moved past that. Our relationship had grown stilted, but now … now we’re okay. We’re what I would even consider close. As close as a father and son can be, what with living in two different cities and both of us constantly traveling.

So in honor of our recent wedding, Dad is having two hundred of his closest friends over at his house for a small reception. “Small” being a ridiculous word, but hey, I’m only quoting the guy. The house is packed. There are servers milling around with trays of food and champagne. There’s a full-service bar out on the patio and a deejay.

A freaking deejay.

Oh, and I can’t forget the giant wedding cake on the other side of the patio, a perfect white frosted tower covered with fresh purple orchids.

Wild.

“This is wild,” Fable says as she clutches my hand, the two of us standing in the doorway that leads out onto the patio, surveying everything spread out before us. “You said it was going to be small.”

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing, that this is wild.” I clutch her hand tight, our fingers intertwined. “And it was my father who said it was going to be small, not me.”

“Well, his idea of small and mine are completely different.” She looks around the room again, her eyes wide as she drinks in everyone and everything. The majority of the guests are around Dad’s age and filthy-ass rich. There are no other words for it. I see diamonds everywhere. Twinkling around women’s necks, flashing off their fingers, glinting off their wrists. They’re all perfectly manicured and groomed within an inch of their life, Botoxed and plucked and smoothed and fake tanned.

There are a few younger women here who I recognize. Daughters of Dad’s associates, girls I went to school with. They’re all perfectly groomed and manicured, too, much like the lawns that line the streets outside.

If I hadn’t met Fable, I would have ended up married to one of these women, I can almost guarantee it—some perfectly behaved girl who would’ve pleased Dad. Our marriage would have been a merger of sorts. Two powerful families brought together, a lucrative deal for both sides. A victory comprised of wealth.

Instead, I made Fable Dad’s new daughter-in-law, and while he acts as if he likes her, I wonder sometimes. I know she doesn’t always approve of what he does or says.

I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual. Dad is all smooth polish, while Fable is still a bit rough around the edges.

“Is all the food free here?” Speaking of rough edges, Owen stops at my side, his green eyes wide as he looks around the patio. “I’m f**king starving.”

“Owen, I will kill you where you stand if you say that word again out here,” Fable says between clenched teeth, her eyes narrowed, her fingers squeezing mine tight. I can’t blame her for being angry; we’re trying to make a good impression here, especially her.

Sending Fable a look, I reach out and pat Owen on the shoulder, though he doesn’t seem fazed by his sister’s chastising words in the least. “Of course it’s free,” I reassure him. “My dad’s having the party for us. Celebrating our marriage, and sort of a welcome-to-the-family thing for you and Fable.”

Owen’s face brightens. “Sweet. I need to tell your dad thanks. But first, I gotta go grab something to eat.” Without another word, he takes off, making his way toward one of the waiters walking around with a silver tray laden with appetizers. Owen is wearing black pants that we just had to buy him since he won’t stop growing and a white button-down shirt. He borrowed one of my ties and his hair is semi-tame for once. Trying to be a grownup but sort of failing at it.