He grinned. “Yeah.”
“This kind of feels like that. Like you’re presenting me to the world or something.”
Cocking a brow, he said, “Meaning you’re nervous as hell and you want me to be your first dance?”
“Totally.”
Stefan nodded. “Done. And seriously, don’t be nervous. The only thing that matters today is that you’re here with Ford, starting your new life together. Just focus on that.”
Except focusing on that was the whole problem, wasn’t it? Because the only thing Ford and I were starting together was a twelve-month lie.
Still, Stefan’s words warmed me. No matter what happened with my marriage, I knew my family had my back. That would have to be enough.
I looped my right arm through Stefan’s left, and off we marched down the aisle. Hundreds of our friends and family—mostly Ford’s—watched as we approached. Whispers reached my ears, and I felt the weight of all those eyes on me, ratcheting up my anxiety. My bouquet started shaking in my grip.
God, what was I doing? Was this all a huge mistake?
But then I felt Stefan’s strong hand gently close over mine, steadying the bouquet.
“Just look straight ahead,” he whispered.
And I did.
The second I saw Ford standing under the arch, everything else disappeared. I knew him well enough to recognize that the smile he wore was fake, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
Suddenly, I realized we’d reached the dais. Stefan kissed my cheek as we walked up the steps, whispering, “You got this,” and then he passed my hand to Ford.
To the left and right, I saw Tori and Brooklyn, Luka and Stefan, and Ford’s handful of groomsmen and groomswomen, everyone wearing vibrant spring colors of their own choosing just as I’d requested. Even Munchkin was wearing a little Liberty floral doggie bow tie, with Brooklyn holding his matching leash. Everyone looked fabulous, like something straight out of a bridal magazine. Me, on the other hand? I had to be the world’s most miserable bride at the world’s most beautiful wedding.
I glanced up at Ford, but his expression was so stoic and inscrutable that it felt like we were two strangers standing up there together, rather than longtime best friends who were about to commit ourselves to each other. Nothing about this felt right.
“It is my great honor to welcome everyone to the wedding of Mara Zoric and Ford Malone,” the officiant began.
Time sped up as the ceremony proceeded, just like everyone had warned me it would. I was glad. When we were instructed to recite our vows, I kept imagining how they might sound if they were factual.
“Do you, Ford, take Mara to be your protection against your shitty ex-girlfriend Claudia and your family’s pathological desire for you to marry and knock up someone of their choosing? And do you, Mara, take Ford as your way to bail your family out of yet another treacherous hole your criminal father dug, this time with the Russian mafia?”
It was almost comical. But I didn’t feel like laughing.
Of course, I said nothing, reciting my marital vows with as much feeling as I could muster even though it felt like I was dying inside.
“It is my pleasure to declare you husband and wife,” the officiant said jovially. “Ford, you may now kiss the bride.”
The kiss, though.
I’d expected it to be as polite and perfunctory as Ford’s responses had been during the rest of the ceremony. Instead, he pulled me into his arms so fast that I barely had a chance to register the intensity in his gaze before his mouth came down on mine.
The kiss was incendiary. It was indecent. It was furious, possessive, and fucking hot.
No matter what was happening between us, no matter what lies I’d told, I couldn’t hide my feelings in that kiss—and it was impossible to deny that our chemistry was still there, as fierce as ever. It was the kind of chemistry that might burn down the big, red barn on the other side of the property where we would be holding the reception. Trying to deny it was a burden that was taking all my strength.
So for one, perfect, blissful moment, I forgot everything. I forgot about the lies. I forgot about the deals. Hell, I even forgot that we were in the middle of our actual wedding and probably giving Ford’s grandmother (and the rest of the Malones) one hell of a show. Ford’s lips against mine were like a spark to kindling. He held me tightly against him, his body hard against mine. I wanted him. I wanted him so bad.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily. Brooklyn let out an ear-piercing whistle, Munchkin started yapping, and people were applauding. It almost seemed as though Ford had been trying to prove something with that kiss, though I wasn’t sure what.
He took my hand and we made our way back down the aisle, now officially married. Our guests cheered, but as I passed Ford’s parents, I saw absolutely nothing in their expression to indicate they were celebrating this union. In fact, I would have bet anything that they were already counting down the days until I was gone so they could bring Claudia back into the fold.
Somehow, I made it through the rest of the festivities.
