Make Believe Wife Read online

  Make Believe Wife

  A Fake Marriage Lesbian Romance

  Berri Fox

  Its Her Books

  Copyright © 2020 by It’s Her Books

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Contents

  Description

  1. Helen

  2. Roxanne

  3. Helen

  4. Roxy

  5. Helen

  6. Roxanne

  7. Helen

  8. Roxanne

  9. Helen

  10. Roxy

  11. Helen

  12. Roxanne

  13. Helen

  14. Roxanne

  15. Helen

  16. Roxanne

  17. Helen

  18. Roxanne

  19. Helen

  20. Roxanne

  21. Helen

  22. Roxanne

  23. Helen

  24. Roxanne

  25. Helen

  26. Roxanne

  27. Helen

  28. Roxanne

  29. Helen

  30. Roxanne

  31. Helen

  32. Roxanne

  33. Helen

  34. Roxanne

  35. Helen

  Description

  She’s everything I never knew I wanted.

  And now I’m going to lose her forever.

  I found Roxy in the rain.

  She had just gotten kicked out of a club.

  She was cold. Wet. Hungry.

  I invited her to a diner.

  Then to my place.

  You see…she had nowhere to go.

  I needed a fake fiancé.

  It was all for show. For my promotion.

  I wasn’t supposed to love her.

  She’d already been hurt so much. I didn’t want to be someone that hurt her again.

  But I did love her. And I did hurt her.

  I was selfish.

  Focused on work. For the glory of the title.

  The prestige was my poison.

  Roxy paid the price.

  I broke her heart.

  Even if it was all Even if it started out a lie.

  The pain was real.

  Only one question remains.

  How do I win back the woman I never had?

  This is a standalone lesbian romance novel with steamy scenes. It does have a happy ending.

  One

  Helen

  Sitting at my desk with beautiful, glossy pictures under my hands, all I can think about is how boring it all is.

  When I first got this job five years ago, it all seemed very exciting. I wanted to be in publishing, but I found out early on I simply didn’t have the talent to write. Editing though, that I excelled at. I could take a journalism article or short story to the next level.

  I also had a talent for working with both publishers and writers. Writers can be a prickly bunch, assuming editors are out to attack their artistic flair. Publishers don’t really care about their feelings and this just causes more friction.

  From the very beginning, I had friends and family sniggering behind their hands that anything as boring as copy editing would certainly suit tame dame Helen, known for leaving parties early, dressing like a grandmother and preferring tea over beer.

  I frown at the pages in front of me, letting them blur into swirls of color. Just two years ago my boss, Lisa, told me she wanted me to edit the photos as well as the articles, working on their design in the magazine overall. That didn’t seem boring at all. When I first started doing it, I was almost breathless with anticipation every day.

  Even though we had graphic designers and digital artists, I was the one who had the final say on the overall piece, deciding how the layout would work across the entire magazine.

  It was, honestly, above and beyond anything I had ever imagined when I got out of college.

  So, where did it all go wrong?

  I push the papers away from me and try not to look at my computer screen. I always like to use a combination of hard copy and digital files because it helps me pick out small mistakes, but today I don’t want to face either one. Both mediums seem to be judging me on my lack of ability to make them interesting.

  I reach out for my flat white coffee and take a sip, suddenly frustrated not just with my work, but with my image of myself.

  Boring coffee. Beige skirt. White sweater. My shoes are brown, simple pumps. I had never really thought about it before, but maybe, I’m boring and that’s starting to leak out into other areas of my life. I never thought of myself as boring.

  Dependable. Reliable. Honest. Not boring.

  I actually felt kind of wild when I came out to my parents. I did it at the same time I got the job. I couldn’t say I was copy editor for ‘Girl on Girl Glamour’ without also admitting to my preferences in a life partner.

  I feel my lips pressing together as my jaw tightens. Yeah, I told them, and they were cool. But I didn’t tell them everything.

  I’m not boring. Not in some ways. I’ve felt like some kind of freak for most of my life… Until my first visit to the Cozy Nook.

  I don’t know why Rachel invited me to the downstairs events. In my shades of brown and pastel, browsing sections on page layout for the most popular publications, how could she have guessed? Maybe, she can just see it from a distance. I’m glad she did, because I wasn’t even sure myself… Until I got down there.

  I don’t know what I was expecting that night. One thing was for sure, the second I saw all the BDSM gear and sexy costumes, I expected to be shocked, confronted, scared. I waited for my feet to bolt me right back out again.

  But I stayed. I couldn’t leave. I was home. I just knew it. After that I wore my ‘boring’ mask with pride, knowing that on the inside I was a horny, kinky little devil.

  I couldn’t tell anyone. Not my family or friends. I couldn’t stand the judgement. Something that I found so natural and beautiful would be seen as ugly and strange to them and I didn’t want to drag that part of myself out into the light only to have it degraded by those who don’t understand.

  My intercom beeped, startling me back to the real world. I splashed some coffee across the desk and almost swore.

  “Yes, Lisa?” I hit the button with a coffee dipped finger.

  “Can you pop into my office please Helen?”

  “Of course. Be there in a sec.”

  I surveyed the sodden papers on my desk with some dismay, hoping I would be able to read the words on them after I cleaned up the coffee. In one of the most rebellious acts of my life, I simply left my office without even trying to clean it up.

  Way to go Helen. You’re a wild child.

  It really says something about you when you can’t even surprise yourself.

  I headed into Lisa’s office and when she smiled warmly at me, I grinned right back. Here was a woman who was never boring. A sheet of shimmering, straight black hair, wide red smile and dramatic fashion sense. The bright red dress looked ready to go out partying, not sit behind a desk all day.

  “Sit down Helen, sit.” She gestured to the chair, smile getting wider by the second.

  “You look like you’re up to something.” I said softly.

  “Yep. Always. But this time I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  Even though my heart jumped in my chest I just smiled. I’m not the type to start leaping around the room in excitement… Even if I was starting to wish I was.

  Lisa leaned forward, narrowing her eyes.

  “Don’t y
ou want to know what it is?”

  “Of course.” I tried so hard to be enthusiastic.

  Lisa shook her head a little, rolling her eyes.

  “Helen, you’ve done great work here for a really long time. In the past few months, I’ve been sensing a slight change in your work.”

  “Oh, No!” I spoke aloud without thinking. I must have given myself away somehow!

  “It’s okay, Helen, jeez.” Lisa laughed. “You aren’t in trouble. I just think that you have ideas in you, and I’d like to give you a chance to explore them.”

  My heart felt like it was gripped in a stone fist. Like it wanted to pump crazy and leap into my throat but couldn’t.

  “Ah…” I think she was about to offer me something I desperately wanted, but it was something I couldn’t have. My boring image protected me. Sometimes I thought I wanted to be the kind of girl who could do anything, say anything, but really, I just wanted to stay hidden behind it.

  Better to be a boring nerd than a freak.

  “Settle.” Lisa waved her hands at me, still grinning. “I’ve got a spare section coming up in the magazine. It will be in every issue, so monthly. I want you to have it.”

  I couldn’t breathe. I could barely speak. “Why?”

  Lisa stared at me evenly. “To do whatever you want with.”

  My mind exploded. I had so many ideas in the first few seconds I was paralyzed. After taking a few quick breaths, I rammed up against the wall that always stood between me and my true self—the judgement of other people.

  But what if I could? What if I could put the essence of my shadow self into a beautiful art form? Would I be accepted then, by my friends and family?

  Maybe I really could be whole. Maybe I should take a chance for once in my life.

  “I’d love to.” I made myself say it before I could chicken out.

  “There’s a catch though Helen.”

  “Oh?” I was innocently assuming something like extra hours or maybe a penalty to my salary.

  “You have to be in a serious relationship—and I mean engaged, married, serious—within the next three months.”

  Reality just dropped away from me. I couldn’t believe it. For a few seconds we just stared at each other.

  “I can’t stand to see you so lonely, sweetie.” Lisa’s voice was now soft and encouraging. “I know there’s so much more to you than what you show the world, and I think you deserve someone to share it with.”

  “It’s like you’re blackmailing me or something.” I muttered plaintively.

  Lisa laughed. “It’s just a deal honey—take it or leave it. You start getting out there and shaking it up, show me a commitment to actually having fun and looking for someone you could really love, and you get your section. Cover anything you want. What do you say?”

  I thought about it for a few seconds. Something in me that was bored with being boring rose up and grabbed hold of this idea with a furious passion.

  I looked up and met her eyes.

  “I’ll take it.”

  Two

  Roxanne

  I’ve been in town only a few days and I wish I could say, it’s been a blast.

  Okay. So, the few gigs I’ve been to were okay. There was a pretty mad dance party at a real underground club last night and I ended up driving around in the back of a van with five other girls. We drank too much, ate pizza and tried as hard as we could to make mischief.

  It’s been fun, so why am I so bored?

  I like to keep my life full of excitement. I’m not one of those girls that has to know exactly when the moneys coming in and how the bills are getting paid. I couldn’t deal with rent and utility bills, let alone dishes and housework.

  No way, man. I was built to fly. One night I’ll be washing dishes in the back of some high-class restaurant, the next I’ll be pounding drums in a band playing on the street.

  I’m resourceful and creative. Train stations often have shower sections attached to their bathrooms. I’ve charged my phone with the socket of a vending machine. Every now and then, I’ll blow every cent I have on a really fancy hotel room.

  The girls I hung out with last night wanted me to cruise with them to the next big gig, but I said no. God knows why, except that I made a bit of money waitressing the last couple of days and I want to explore this city a bit more. It can’t all be boring.

  I’m frustrated with myself. None of what is going down here is dull. I rode in here on a bus with five bucks in my pocket and only the clothes on my back. All I had in my small backpack was my phone charger and a few things I wouldn’t leave behind, but I travel light.

  I got put on the bus by my ex, a crazy girl who I thought would keep me entertained, but all she did was annoy me. She’s an artist and sells most of her work using the ‘crazy talented’ angle. I thought it was cute. Turns out, she actually was crazy.

  Told me I was getting in the way of her ‘process’ or something. I didn’t care, I was over it anyway. I made her buy the ticket though. You want to throw me out, you pay for my ride.

  Like I give a fuck what anyone thinks. That’s why I live the way I do. No one gets to tell me I’m not good enough.

  I don’t envy people their family and friends, far from it. I consider myself blessed to be so free. I don’t have to take anyone’s judgement. I don’t have to change myself at all. If I feel like I’m in a situation like that, I get the fuck out of there.

  I’m still wondering why I didn’t leave with the girls. They were fun, nonjudgmental types. I could have stuck with them for a few weeks and gotten into all sorts of adventures. Thing is, I heard somewhere that this town had a decent scene. Not just for the community… But for BDSM.

  So far there’s no evidence of this. I’m having to scratch around for scraps of fun when I’m used to swimming in it.

  I don’t want to admit it, but I am a bit lonely. Okay, so Karen was nuts. She was cute though. It was the first time I stayed in one place long enough to snuggle on the couch with someone and I kind of liked it.

  I’d always been into the more extreme side of things in the bedroom, and Karen loved to play. I have to admit, even though our personalities really didn’t match, it was nice to get kind of comfortable.

  I start putting my feet down a little harder as I walk, trying not to scowl. What the fuck am I really looking for? Why am I wandering aimlessly and feeling bad about it for the first time in my life?

  I smell the heavenly waft of coffee from a nearby doorway and hurry inside. When in doubt, there’s always coffee. It will distract me for awhile until I can figure out what to do tonight. I still don’t even know where I’m going to spend the night and I can’t really afford a hotel.

  When I get to the counter, I order the most extravagant thing on the board, some extra strong, ultra whipped, cream topped monster with chocolate flakes. I refuse to be bored, even with my food and beverage choices.

  The shop girl seems to be giving me the eye, so I lean over the counter and grin while she works on my monstrous coffee.

  “You’re cute.” I grin at her, and I don’t have to lie, she really is. “What are you doing tonight?”

  She blushes fiercely. “Actually, I’m doing another shift here. Thanks for asking, though.”

  I don’t take it hard. I didn’t have a real interest. It’s just something to say.

  “Hey, since you’re not going to be free, do you know any girls that might be into the scene… A cool party or club?” I give my eyebrows a jiggle, so she knows what scene I’m looking for.

  “Actually.” She glances around, speaking in hushed tones as she dusts my coffee with chocolate flakes. “There’s this place called the Cozy Nook. They do a great party night.”

  “Cozy Nook huh?” I pull out the cash and pay her for the coffee, giving her a nice tip. “I like the name. It’s innocent but really dirty if you choose to take it that way.”

  She giggles. “Yeah, I get you, totally. Anyways, check it out. They are really nice there.”r />
  “Thanks.” I give her a wave as I head out back to the street. It’s only early afternoon so I decide to track this place down. I work on my coffee as I punch the name into my phone, looking for directions.

  It’s only a few streets away and I take my time. I love how people react to me. It enables me to label them straight away. Some just look away in fear or disgust. I laugh at those. Some catch my eye and grin. Fellow weirdos. Others seem curious and they intrigue me because they clearly have some interest and yet they show no signs of weirdness in themselves.

  I have to feel sorry for them. Perhaps they can’t embrace their inner weirdo. How sad.

  By the time I reach the Cozy Nook my coffee is gone, and my feet are sore. I’m hoping to see a jumping dance floor and a full bar, somewhere I can kick it until the night life starts up. When I stop out the front, I pull my phone out and check, then double check the address.

  I even do a city-wide search of the business name. No other Cozy Nook, anywhere.

  “What the fuck is this.” I mutter to myself.

  It looks like a bookstore. A really boring one. I can’t believe my eyes. Why would that girl send me here? I’m really pissed off all of a sudden—like I should take myself back there and give her a piece of my mind.