CHAPTER FIFTEEN
T here’s a thrum rushing under my skin as I straighten off the wall. The anticipation has gained momentum, clawing at me to take charge. But this is a delicate matter. An ounce of patience won’t hurt me. That doesn’t make it easier to stand still.
I resist the urge to check my watch again. As if rewarding my diligence, a buzz comes from my pocket. The excited chatter filling the room fades into a muted hum. A glance at the screen blocks out their voices completely.
612-543-5555: Why is there a glam squad at my apartment?
And just like that, the restless energy goes still.
Me: Good morning, fiancée. I was wondering when you’d finally use my number.
Twinkles: Answer the question.
Me: It’s our wedding day.
Twinkles: That’s news to me.
Me: Couldn’t let you get cold feet.
Twinkles: You proposed two days ago…
Me: Did you prefer a shorter engagement?
Twinkles: Is that a serious question?
Me: I couldn’t get us on the schedule sooner. Small town problems.
Twinkles: Wow. You’re really something else.
Me: Apologies for the delay. Just sit back and relax. You deserve to be pampered, bride of mine.
Twinkles: We’re not getting married and I’m not your anything.
Me: But you said yes.
Twinkles: To avoid disappointing my parents. Thanks again for putting me on the spot. Really nice touch.
Me: Won’t they be disappointed when you don’t show up to City Hall?
Twinkles: You invited them?!
Fuck, she’s adorable. A grin threatens to make an appearance. I force the unwelcome expression to get gone before responding.
Me: Of course they’re here. What kind of villain do you take me for?
Twinkles: One with a micro peen.
Me: Care to rephrase that?
Twinkles: I’ve come to the conclusion that you must have a tiny penis.
Me: Come see for yourself.
Twinkles: You know I won’t. That’s why you need a fake bride. You’re afraid a real one would actually want to have sex with you. At least until she saw your teeny weenie. Gosh, your reputation would be ruined.
Me: Hilarious. Get your ass to the courthouse.
Twinkles: Why are you the worst?
Me: To redeem myself in the end. Best to start from rock bottom.
Twinkles: I’m going to tell my parents the truth before this goes any further.
Me: Should I tell them to call you?
Twinkles: They’re already there?!
Me: We had brunch with the mayor. Dad is here too.
Twinkles: Where’s Bianca?
Me: In Europe…
Twinkles: Why isn’t she answering the phone?
Me: How would I know?
Twinkles: You haven’t talked to her?
Me: Colton has passed along a few messages. She’s fine.
Twinkles: But she isn’t responding to me. What’s going on with her?
Me: We’ll worry about that later. Focus on getting ready.
Twinkles: I’m not getting married without my best friend present.
Me: We’ll have a second wedding once Bianca is home.
Twinkles: That seems excessive. How long are you planning to hold me hostage?
Me: Ask my dad.
Twinkles: I would have but he’s been noticeably absent.
Me: He’s back now.
Twinkles: How convenient.
Me: Couldn’t miss our big day.
Twinkles: But Bianca can? We should just wait until she’s here.
Me: That’s not an option.
Twinkles: What’s the rush? Afraid she won’t approve?
My nostrils flare as I expel a burst of frustration. Bianca will sever this arrangement faster than I can rope a calf. There’s a reason my sister has been silent, but she won’t be for much longer.
Me: This deal needs to get done. Let the glam squad do their thing. I’ll meet you at the altar.
Twinkles: I don’t even have a dress.
Me: Sure about that?
Twinkles: What did you do?
Rather than answer, I wait for her to find the garment bag that should be hanging in her closet. There’s no stopping my smile now. Damn, there’s just something about her that gets to me.
Twinkles: I’m not wearing this.
Me: Don’t like it?
Paisley reads the message but the three dots to signal her typing don’t appear. My blood pressure spikes as I wait for her verdict. Five seconds is the limit on my tolerance.
Me: I’ll send other options. Hold on.
Twinkles: No, it’s fine. Be there soon.
A frown flatlines my amusement. It’s difficult to decipher a tone through text, but hers definitely isn’t pleased. That bothers me more than I want to admit. The disappointment is gnarled and tough to chew. Instead of analyzing the odd reaction, I focus on my accomplishment. Benson Farmstead will officially be mine by this afternoon.
I tuck my phone away and reclaim my spot against the wall. City Hall is deserted, leaving our party to socialize without interruption. Paisley’s parents are still mingling with Ted while we wait for the bride to arrive. Dad separates from the group to join me in isolation. His keen awareness scrutinizes my relaxed pose. That distinct gleam appears in his gaze, which immediately puts me on alert.
“Figured you were in for a lengthy uphill battle.” Dad tugs at the collar of his dress shirt, the tie probably irritating him. “How did you get her to agree so quickly?”
“Powers of persuasion,” I reply.
He claps me on the back. “That’s my boy. Never doubted you for a second.”
I snort through a grimace. His pride is sorely misplaced. If he hears about what I did to get Paisley to agree, we’ll be having a very different conversation.
My gaze turns to the large bay window where the mid-morning sky appears ready to burst with rain. Apparently, that’s good luck at a wedding. “What happens next?”
“You become a family man.”
“Dad,” I press.
His smile is carefree, and makes this contractual obligation worth it. “I won’t go back on my word, son. The company is yours.”
Pressure lifts off my shoulders and I inhale slowly. “Thanks for that.”
Dad scoffs. “I’m the one who should be thanking you. I get to watch you experience one of the greatest gifts in life. If only your mom was here to witness it too.”
Guilt curdles like expired milk in my gut. I haven’t let on that my relationship with Paisley is fake. That would defeat the purpose. Dad wants to see me settled. The picture I’m posing for is just that, except the image will fade before the snow starts falling.
At my strained silence, he sniffles and bobs his head. “It doesn’t get easier. We just learn to deal with the pain. I’ll spend the rest of my days missing her.”
Emotion lodges in my throat and I almost choke. “She’d be real disappointed in me right now.”
“Nah, your mother is up there singin’ your praises. You went after what you wanted and got it. What’s not to be proud of?”
I scrub at my wet eyes. Fuck, this is getting out of hand. It’s not too late to throw a stone at the deceptive mirage I’ve created. Guidance would be much appreciated.
That’s the precise moment Paisley sweeps into the building like an avenging angel sent to rescue my soul. The sight of her so soon is staggering and weakens my knees. If the wall wasn’t already at my back, I’d be crashing into it. She managed to get ready in record time, but her speedy appearance isn’t what shocks me. It’s just her. I’m not the type to submit, but this woman could convince me to kneel at her feet.
She’s simply breathtaking. The long white dress hugs her curves like a lover’s embrace. There’s just enough sparkle to make her shine without overdoing it. Her golden hair is loosely braided and hangs over one shoulder. A light dusting of makeup highlights her features, somehow brightening what already glows. The pink gloss on her lips is too inviting. I force my boots to remain rooted to the carpet.
June and Neil ditch the mayor to greet their daughter in a whirlwind of excitement and expectations. Nervous energy wafts from their fumbled movements. This is a special occasion they’ve been waiting to celebrate and will never forget. Paisley hugs her parents, searching the small cluster of guests. Her siblings aren’t in attendance. Another strike against me, but there wasn’t time to include them.
“You chose well,” Dad mumbles from his place beside me.
When Paisley’s smile stretches wider, a strange warmth spreads through my chest. I press a palm over the inflicted area. The joyful pounding threatens to break free. It’s been so long since I’ve experienced even a sliver of this intensity.
“She looks happy.” I could almost be convinced she actually wants to get married.
My father glances between me and my bride. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
Guilt threatens to weasel its way in again, but I manage to trap the pest before critical infestation. “We barely know each other,” I deflect.
“That’s what the honeymoon is for.” He chuckles and wags his brows, making me feel sick for an entirely different reason. “C’mon, kid. Let’s get you hitched.”
We straighten off the wall as a cohesive unit. Neil and June escort Paisley toward us. As predicted, the stars in my cowgirl’s eyes dim when she looks at me. That doesn’t stop me from openly admiring her.
“You’re radiant, Twinkles. ”
“Not too bad yourself, almost husband.” Her smile is brittle and saturated in betrayal.
The tie around my neck suddenly tightens. I put that stain on her usually sunny expression. She’ll be rid of me soon enough.
“We make quite a pair.” My suit is entirely black to contrast her pure white. I hold out a bent elbow, which she hesitantly accepts.
Our pace is slow and leisurely as if we’re headed to a blissful happily ever after rather than a corrupt ceremony. Ted stands at the front of his chambers, beckoning us forward. Paisley’s steps falter.
“The mayor is officiating our sham of a wedding?”
“He owed me a favor.”
Her bottomless stare attempts to burrow beneath my scowl and stubble. “You’re something else.”
“About to be yours,” I rasp.
“In name only,” she reminds on a whisper.
I nod and Ted proceeds with the farce. The vows are basic and bland, quickly leading to when we exchange rings. I grab both from my pocket, holding her delicate band aloft.
My pulse sprints, booming in the quiet space. “Do you accept this ring as a token of my unwavering love and devotion?”
Paisley’s slender throat quivers from an audible gulp. “I do.”
The thin loop slides onto her finger, fitting just right. I had her set custom made to appear as one when connected, like barbwire and grit. That’s what she’ll need to withstand our matrimony .
Paisley shifts her hand to admire her new embellishment. “Black diamonds?”
“Like my heart,” I explain. “Figured you could use a reminder of me.”
“As if I could forget who I belong to,” she mutters.
Heat floods my veins at a dangerous speed. An image of Paisley beneath me, begging for more, slams into my mind.
“Careful with what you say or I’ll want to keep you that way.” Getting aroused in front of this crowd is shameful, even for me.
Ted coughs into his fist. “It’s your turn to repeat after me, Paisley.”
She studies the band I chose for myself. The black gold is inlaid with parallel platinum lines. It’s a relatively plain design except for the yellow diamond set in the center. Her polished nail rubs over the small stone.
“It’s a symbol of you,” I explain. “Now you’ll be with me wherever I go.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, eager gaze leaping to mine. “That’s very romantic.”
“Maybe I’m not so bad, hmm?”
Her eyes narrow. “Why are you being sweet?”
“I might’ve taken a few crooked turns to get here, but it’s not my intention to remain enemies. We can be civil. There’s nothing for us to fight about.”
“Stealing my lines again?”
One shoulder lifts in acknowledgment. “I’m finally taking your advice. When applicable,” I tack on.
The mayor clears this throat again. I shoot him a warning glare. Paisley is much more considerate of his time. She repeats the required phrase while bumping my fingertip with the metal like a taunt.
My gaze sears into hers as I recite the words that unite us. “I do.”
Paisley slips the thick band over my calloused knuckle. The weight of it on my finger is foreign, but not uncomfortable. Almost like a rite of passage I never planned to seek.
Ted concludes his spiel, reaching the pivotal point. “It gives me great honor to pronounce you as husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Brody.”
“With pleasure.” I lift her left hand and peck the spot above the ring I just gave her.
“You can do better than that,” Neil jests.
I quirk a brow at my bride. “Should we give the crowd what they want?”
A fiery blush stains her cheeks. “If you insist.”
“Need to hear you say it. Won’t steal another liberty, even if it’s part of the tradition.”
Her chin lifts in offering. “Kiss me, husband.”
I cradle her face between my palms. Her lashes flutter at the gentle touch, followed by a soft whimper. Anticipation crackles along my skin again. No more delay.
In a swift motion, I swoop down and seal the deal. She’s stiff and unyielding until I smile against her lips. Paisley surrenders, melting into our first—and possibly last—kiss as a married couple. Hoots and hollers strain my ears as I enjoy her taste for a bit longer. When we pull apart, the restlessness inside of me is subdued. At least temporarily.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Benson.” I drift the pad of my thumb along her rekindled blush. “You’re even more beautiful as my wife.”