The Fake Mate

The oldest board member leans into the woman sitting next to him, both of them looking nervous as they whisper rapidly to each other before turning to repeat the same song and dance with the other members seated around the table. As they deliberate quietly, Noah doesn’t let go of my hand, keeping a tight hold on it to remind me that he’s here—that no matter what happens, we’re in this together.

It’s a new feeling for me, but one I find I don’t dislike.

“Dr. Taylor,” the old board member finally calls, sounding weary. “In light of these new findings, I think it’s safe to say that you can resume work starting next week. We would like to officially apologize for making you feel as if you would be unwelcome on our staff because of your designation. It is not in this board’s interest to dally in exclusion of any kind. Especially not with someone as gifted as yourself.”

I feel myself beaming, victory surging through me. “And Dr. Martin?”

“Right,” the older woman says. She gestures for the secretary taking minutes at the end of the table. “Patricia, could you please page Dr. Martin? It seems we have a lot to discuss.”

“We’ll be sure to forward an official transcription of this meeting for both of your records upon completion,” a middle-aged, balding member says. “And again, our deepest apologies.”

“No apologies necessary,” Noah tells them, sounding sincere. He looks down at me. “It ended up being worth it.”

Noah Taylor? Being cheesy? Next thing I know, the sky will start falling.

He pulls me out of the boardroom after we say our good-byes, neither of us saying anything further until we’re down the hall and far out of earshot. I squeal when he suddenly turns and lifts me from the ground, pulling me up and against his body before covering my mouth with his for a searing kiss. He holds me there for far longer than is appropriate, given where we are, but I can’t find it in me to care, just enjoying the warmth of his arms and his kiss and everything else.

I fall back down to the floor slowly, my body sliding against his until my toes touch the linoleum before my feet fall flat. He’s beaming at me like I’m some sort of present, and I find it infectious, my mouth mirroring the motion.

“I can’t believe we pulled that off,” I laugh.

Noah shrugs. “You mention lawsuits to these people, and they’ll just about piss their pants.”

“Probably should have been our first course of action,” I say with faux irritation.

Noah chuckles. “Turns out I’m not as smart as I thought.”

“That’s okay,” I deadpan. “I’ll be sure to teach you a thing or two.”

“Perfect,” he says with a grin.

We don’t hear the footsteps over our own chatter, so it’s a mild surprise when we hear his grating voice.

“Well, if it isn’t the lovebirds,” Dennis calls. “Funny seeing you here. You decided that your job wasn’t worth it, after all?”

I feel Noah tense beside me, but I press a hand to his chest, smiling at Dennis sweetly. “Actually, we just had a long talk with the board about something a lot worse than lying on a relationship disclosure form. Didn’t we, Noah?”

“That’s right.” Noah nods stiffly. “Turns out, they’re much more interested in things like extortion and HIPAA violations.” He clicks his tongue. “Doesn’t look too good for the hospital when one of their staff is messing around with things like that.”

The color draining from Dennis’s face is beyond satisfying, and it’s clear by his expression that he hadn’t considered this possibility in the slightest. He really thought he’d won, that he’d pulled a fast one on us, and that in itself makes me want to kick him between the legs. I decide the complete ruining of his career will be much better.

“Have fun in there,” I coo.

“You fucking bitch,” Dennis growls as he takes a step toward me.

He doesn’t even make it a foot before Noah has him pinned against the wall with his forearm pressed to Dennis’s chest, Noah looking murderous as he speaks slowly and carefully.

“Dr. Martin,” Noah says, a simmering rage in his tone. “If you ever touch her, I will show you exactly what that famous alpha temper looks like and rip both of your arms off to ensure it never happens again. Do you understand?”

I notice Dennis swallow thickly, his face white as a sheet. He looks older like this, frailer. Still, I don’t feel the least bit sorry for him. He is a complete fuckhead, after all.

“I’m going to set you down now,” Noah tells him. “And you’re going to walk away. And you aren’t even going to look at Mackenzie.”

Dennis says nothing, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“I said,” Noah repeats darkly, “do you understand?”

Dennis’s lips roll together. “Yes,” he says quietly. “I understand.”

“Good.” Noah smiles cheerfully, his entire demeanor changing in the blink of an eye. “You have a good meeting.”

Dennis turns on his heel quickly, like he’s afraid that Noah might come after him, and I can’t pretend it isn’t incredibly hot, seeing Noah turn on the alpha switch like that. I’m all for feminism . . . but hot damn.

“That was . . . intensely satisfying,” Noah says after a second, turning back to me.

“Mm.” I press my hands to his shoulders. “It would have been better if you’d hit him.”

Noah shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “I think the board is going to hurt him more than I ever could.”

“God, I wish we could be in there to see it. Do you think he’ll cry?”

“I am choosing to imagine that’s how it goes down, yes.”

I grin. “Still okay with giving up the Albuquerque job? It’s a good opportunity, you know.”

“Mackenzie . . .” He pulls me against him, his hand pressing against my spine. “You’re the best opportunity I could choose.”

I feel warmth flushing my cheeks down into my chest. “Wow, you’re getting downright sappy, aren’t you? What’s next, a sonnet? You know, you could—”

Noah’s mouth really is a very effective method of shutting me up.

I wind my arms around his neck as I sink deeper into his kiss, not caring in the slightest that we’re in a very public hallway of a very public hospital, which anyone could come strolling down. We are officially official now—nothing fake about it. They can just keep walking. I feel his hands curve around my waist to squeeze, and my head starts to dizzy with the potency of his scent, already thinking about how I might persuade him to get out of here with me and take me back home so we can resume his “groveling.”

Noah pulls away with a blissful look on his face, happier and lighter than I’ve ever seen him. And it’s for me. It makes my heart pound and my head spin, and all those notions about fate and destiny are still foreign to me, still a little outside of my wheelhouse—but looking at him now . . . it makes me feel things I never thought were possible.

Noah looks down the hall. “Should we get out of here? If we keep this up, I’m going to drag you into another clos—”

“I think I love you,” I blurt out, blandly, like I’m announcing the weather.

Lana Ferguson's books