Chapter 13
Nathan
"No church wedding." I rock back on my heels. "Also, I will not be inviting the family."
"Oh." Arthur looks crestfallen. "I was hoping to have all of my grandchildren under one roof for this occasion."
"You're not invited, either."
"What?" He gapes. "You don’t mean that."
"Sure I do. I saw the circus you put Edward through, and I’m not willing to go through that. You're not going to surprise me by pulling forward my wedding date, old man. I’ll do it on my own terms."
"But—"
"You get this wedding, or none at all." I focus my gaze on my grandfather. We’re in my office in the headquarters of the Davenport Group. And I'm in the office next to the corner office allocated to the CEO. Not the office for the CEO, but the one adjoining it, with a glass wall in between the two. Because that’s how my grandfather operates. G-Pa, as we call him, is a canny old operator who’ll get his way without regard for the consequences.
He coughs, then rubs his chest. "You’d deprive this old man of one of his last wishes?"
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. What is it about him that makes me regress back to being seven? Oh, wait. When I was seven, I was busy consoling my mother, who couldn’t get out of bed because her depression was particularly bad, and her meds weren’t helping, either.
He coughs again and shoots me an injured look.
I glare back. I’m a lot like him. Doesn’t mean I’m going to let him get away with his machinations. "I know what you’re up to."
"You do?" He looks at me with wide-eyed surprise. Add consummate actor to his list of talents.
"You may claim you didn’t know that she and I knew each other before you sent me off to 'evaluate'"— I make air-quotes with my fingers—"the potential of investing in her bakery, but even you have to admit, it’s too much of a coincidence for me to believe that."
"I’m not going to keep pressing my innocence to you. Besides, what does it matter how you met her? Important thing is, you found the woman of your dreams."
Knew it. If that isn’t a declaration of his culpability, I don’t know what is.
"The important thing is, as soon as I get married, you’re going to confirm me as CEO and give me that office." I stab my thumb in the direction of the glass wall that separates my space from the one next door.
"The important thing is, you consummate your wedding."
"The fuck?" I stare. "If you think I’m going to let you verify that, you can forget about it.”
Tiny raises his head from next to G-Pa and looks at me. His mouth turns down. His ears stand to attention. He’s not happy at my voicing my displeasure. I scowl at him, and he blinks back, looking as innocent as the man next to him.
"It’s okay, boy." Arthur pats his big head. "Nate, here, needs to get things off his chest. Let’s cut him some slack. He’s been under some pressure, what with deciding to get married and realizing he can’t get away with just going through the motions.
It needs to be a real marriage." Arthur tips his chin up at me.
"A fake relationship won’t cut it. And don't think I won't be able to tell the difference.
Ahh, don't look at me like that. I don't need 'proof.
'" This time, he makes air-quotes. "The truth of your relationship will be evident to anyone with eyes. "
Well, damn. The man might be getting along in his years, but he’s still sharp as a tack. The tips of my ears burn, but I manage to school my features into an expression of disdain. "Are you suggesting my relationship with Skylar is fake?"
"Of course not"—he leans back in his chair—"but in case you were thinking of going into a marriage of convenience, you’re going to have to turn it into the real deal, real fast."
"And why would I think of creating a pretend relationship?"
"I’m sure you’re not." His eyes gleam. "Why would you, when you’ve carried feelings for this girl for a while, and now that you’ve met her again… Well, I’m sure you’re not stupid enough to let her go."
"Of course I’m not." I roll my shoulders and glance around the office. Is it hot in here? I pick up my phone and dial my assistant. "Please get maintenance to lower the temperature of the heating system." I disconnect the call.
"So, it’s settled." My grandfather smirks. He looks altogether too pleased with himself. Too late, I realize I’ve managed to give him what he wants. I thought I had the upper hand in this conversation, but clearly, not.
"What’s settled?" I ask slowly.
"You’ll be married in six days in a non-denominational ceremony."
"A non-denominational ceremony?" A wrinkle mars her forehead.
"Is that a problem? Would you prefer a church wedding?" I purse my lips. Should I have consulted with her before I made the decision about the format of the blasted event? Probably. But it’s too late to change things. Besides, it’s not like it's real anyway. Yet.
Nevertheless, when she shakes her head, the tension lessens in my shoulders.
"Gosh, no, it’s not like I grew up going to church."
"What’s the problem, then?" I survey her features, which fill the screen of my phone. I immersed myself in work after Arthur left. Only to surface two hours later to the realization I should call my fiancée—my fiancée?—and update her on the status of the wedding.
She looks away, then back at me. There’s hesitation on her features.
"Tell me," I order.
She draws in a breath; then brings the spatula she’s been using to mix the dessert she’s been working on to her mouth.
She uses her finger to wipe some batter from the spatula, then licks the mixture, and every part of me tightens.
I can’t take my gaze off how she moves it around with her tongue, then swallows.
My cock extends. My balls harden. I shift around in my chair, looking for a more comfortable position.
When she still doesn’t answer, I glare at her.
"What is it? I don’t have all day to guess what you’re thinking. "
She huffs, then looks away.
"You going to tell me, or do I have to come there and kiss it out of you?"
"Excuse me?" She jerks her chin in my direction. "Did you say—"
"Kiss it out of you? Yes."
She gapes. "B-but this is not a real relationship."
"To the outside world, it is."
She wrinkles her nose. "It’s only the two of us right now."
"I’m practicing." Tell that to my dick, which insists this is the real deal.
"Hmm…" she scowls. "So, the last time you kissed me—"
"I wanted to learn the shape of your mouth, so when I kiss you on our wedding day, I won’t be surprised." That the best you can come up with? You’re a loser, make no mistake.
She flushes, and her lips part. Her pupils dilate, and I know she’s turned on. She looks away, then back at me. "I… uh… I…" She shakes her head. "What was I saying?" She sounds dazed.
Satisfaction warms my chest. It’s my words causing her to lose her train of thought. I manage to keep the smile off of my face. "You were going to tell me why you’re not happy at the thought of a small wedding ceremony with just the two of us in attendance?"
I must distract her enough that this time she says without hesitation, "I was hoping to have my friends there and—" Someone speaks in the background, she turns to the side, and a smile lights up her features. "Hey, Knox."
Knox? I stiffen. What is my half-brother doing there? We're supposed to meet right about now, and— My phone pings with an incoming message.
Knox: I’m stopping by to say hello to your lovely fiancée.
Knox: Not that I’m asking for your permission.
Knox: I might buy a bunch of pastries while I’m here. Aren’t her Sweet Bits delicious?
What. The. Fuck?
"You won’t be without friends on your wedding day," Knox’s voice grows louder. The next moment, he appears on the screen behind my fiancée. "I’ll be there."