Chapter 13 #2
fact that this is just for a year. I can do anything for a year. Even maybe, possibly, make friends with his brothers’ significant
others.
I just hope everyone doesn’t hate me when Luke and I have to end this in a year. That is yet another thing I didn’t consider.
But the lumberyard is the rest of my life. I have to do this. I just hope Luke will help me manage the fallout with his family that’ll come when our one year is up.
Alternatively, they might be relieved I’m out of Luke’s way so he can find his true soulmate.
That thought causes a pit to form in my stomach, but I’m distracted when the clerk returns, waving the papers in the air excitedly
before sliding them across the counter to us.
She smiles. “Forgive me but I never get to do this part.” She clears her throat dramatically. “Luke Fletcher and Addison Monroe . . .
I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
I smile and feel that happiness deep in my bones. I know I wanted a stranger, I know I wanted this to feel like a business
deal and detached. But there’s something really special about how my best friend would do all this for me. And right now,
I can’t recall a single reason why I was so determined not to accept Luke’s proposals. He really is one of the good ones, and that song is playing on repeat in my head as I smile up
at him like a goof.
“You can now kiss your bride.”
“What was that?” I ask, turning my ear toward the woman and she yanks me out of eye-fucking my best friend.
“You can now kiss your bride!” The woman stares at us expectantly and we both hesitate. Shit. I forgot about this part too.
God, what the fuck is wrong with me?
“We don’t have to.” Luke smiles politely at the clerk. “She’s weird about PDA.”
“No, it’s fine,” I exclaim and Luke’s head swings around to stare at me in surprise.
I’m a little surprised too, but I’ve never really minded touching Luke.
He’s different. He’s safe. But kissing him?
The idea of it has me spiraling. Best friends aren’t supposed to kiss .
. . then again, platonic best friends don’t usually get married either.
And above my little physical touch hesitations, I feel overwhelmed with gratitude.
I’m grateful for my friend and this moment and the future he just helped me lock in and I want to show him that.
We’re adults here. It’s no big deal to give your friend a quick kiss of appreciation. Right?
I step closer to Luke with a smile. “We should. This is it. We finally did it!” I laugh awkwardly and my hands tremble as
I reach up and cup his face, my fingers tingling against the light stubble of his freshly shaven jaw.
His brows furrow down at me, his eyes searching mine for something I’m not sure of. I bite my lip, realizing I’ve never noticed
the gold flecks Luke has in his eyes before. I always thought they were just chocolate brown, but they’re not. They’re brown
with honey mixed in. They’re captivating. His lips aren’t bad either. At least his lower lip. His upper is hard to see under
the hot guy ’stache, but that lower one. It looks good. Very kissable.
I inhale sharply when Luke steps in closer to me, his hands finding my waist, and I get that same feeling I had at the lumberjack
competition when he held me in front of Ivan. As mad as I was at him for that, I can’t deny how it felt. Luke makes me feel
good. Respected . . . and maybe even a little bit naughty when he’s looking at me the way he is right now.
Before I lose my nerve, I stand up on my tiptoes and lift my lips to my best friend’s, fusing our mouths together in what
I expect to be a platonic, no-heat, chaste type of kiss. The kind of kiss you give to your grandma, if you’re the kind of
family who kisses their grandma on the lips. I’m certainly not. I would definitely never kiss my grandma the way I’m kissing
Luke.
A noise vibrates in his chest and I feel him angle his head to the side to meet my lips more fully.
I’m kissing my friend for the first time in all the years I’ve known him.
I’ve kissed Luke on the cheek a good number of times. Countless hugs, shoves, hits, and maybe even an occasional brief snuggle.
But never anything like this.
I inhale a trembling breath as his lips part and move ever so slightly against mine, timid but present. Firm, but gentle.
So very Luke. A perfect blend of good and bad. Happy and mad. Comforting and infuriating. I meet his energy and move my lips
with his as my hands roam off his face and back into his hair. My fingers widen as I comb through his shaggy length, feeling
my body arch so we’re flush against each other.
I want more but I also know this is Luke. My friend. The man who’s doing me a massive favor by marrying me so I can take over
my dad’s company. He should most definitely not be a man whose lips are making me wonder what a mustache ride might actually
feel like.
That horrific intrusive thought has my brain flashing back to reality like an explosion and I quickly yank away, untwining
my hands from Luke’s hair to cover my mouth in pure shock, my lips tingling at the loss of him.
Luke blinks back at me, lips parted, eyes burning with a look that I have never seen before. A look that has me squeezing
my thighs together and biting my lip so hard, I could cry.
“That’ll do it,” the clerk says, her head propped on her hand as she stares starry-eyed at us. “You two are going to be very
happy, I can tell.”
I burst out into nervous laughter and Luke joins me, both of us flustered and avoiding eye contact as we turn away from each
other, because what the actual fucking fuck was that?
The lady slides all of our papers into a folder and we walk out of there with a notarized prenup, a marriage license, and
one more stop to make. Hopefully we can keep our hands to ourselves at this stop or we both might be in very big trouble.