by Sarah Darlington

Of course I’m faking it…

I’d been faking it since I was sixteen years old.
Every time in bed. Fake.
Every compliment and encouragement. Fake.
No, sir, you do not have the biggest one I’ve ever seen.
Every cute conversation and sultry smile with one of my customers across the bar.

Fake. Fake. Fake.

So, why was it this hard for me to find a fake date for my sister’s wedding? Christmas was in one week, her wedding on the 26th, and I had yet to find a handsome, brainless, charismatic nobody to pretend to be my date for what was sure to be one week of utter hell.

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Category: Holidays Romance