He even smelled gorgeous.
And now would be a great time to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “Hey.”
Wonderful. They’d had spirited debates on everything from the travesty of pairing red wine with fish to the merits of the beach over the mountains. Shakespeare, The Simpsons. But put her in the arms of the man she’d been salivating over for months and the power of speech deserted her.
He stepped back. Didn’t help. And now she was cold.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, his smooth voice ruffling all her nerve endings in the most delicious way. Despite being born in North Carolina, he had almost no accent. Good thing. He was already devastating enough.
“Can’t have a wedding with no bride,” she informed him. Oh, thank God, she could still talk, Captain Obvious moment aside. “Am I dressed okay for a fake marriage?”
His intense eyes honed in on her. “You look amazing. I love that you bought a new dress for this.”
Yeah, that was why she passed up the idiots who hit on her with lame lines like “Give me your number and I’ll frost your cupcakes for you.” Jonas paid attention to her and actually noticed things like what she wore. She’d picked out this yellow dress because he’d mentioned once that he liked the color.
Which made it all the more strange that he’d never clued in that she had a huge thing for him. She was either better at hiding it than she’d had a right to hope for, or he knew and mercifully hadn’t mentioned it.
Her pulse sped out of control. He didn’t know, she repeated silently. Maybe a little desperately.
There was no way he could know. He’d never have asked her to do this marriage favor otherwise.
She’d been faking it this long. No reason to panic.
“I wanted to look good,” she told him. For you. “For the pictures.”
He smiled. “Mission accomplished. I want you to meet Warren.”
Jonas turned, absently putting his arm around her and oh, that was nice. They were a unit already, and it had seemed to come so naturally. Did he feel it, too?
That’s when she realized there was another man in the vestibule. Funny, she hadn’t even noticed him, though she supposed women must fawn all over him, with those cheekbones and that expensive haircut. She held out her hand to the friend Jonas had talked endlessly about. “Nice to meet you. Jonas speaks very highly of you.”
“Likewise,” Warren said with a cryptic glance at Jonas. “And I’m sure whatever he’s told you is embellished.”
Doubtful when she didn’t need Jonas’s help to know that the energy drink company his friend ran did very well. You couldn’t escape the logo for Flying Squirrel no matter where you looked.
Jonas waved that off with a smirk. “Whatever, man. Where’s Hendrix?”
“Not my turn to babysit him.” Warren shrugged, pulling out his phone. “I’ll text him. He’ll be here.”
Somehow, Jonas seemed to have forgotten his arm was still around Viv’s waist and she wasn’t about to remind him. But then he guided her toward the open double doors that led to the interior of the chapel with firm fingers. Well, if this almost-intimacy was part of the wedding package, she’d take it.
“I’m not waiting on his sorry ass,” Jonas called over his shoulder. “There are a thousand more couples in line behind us and I’m not losing my spot.”
Warren nodded and waved, still buried in his phone.
“Some friends,” Jonas murmured to her with a laugh, his head bent close. He was still taller than her even when she wore heels, but it had never been as apparent as it was today, since she was still tucked against his side as if he never meant to let go. “This is an important day in my life and you see how they are.”
“I’m here.” For as long as he needed her.
Especially if he planned to put his arm around her a whole bunch more. His warm palm on her waist had oddly settled her nerves. And put a whole different kind of butterfly south of her stomach.
Wow, was it hot in here or what? She resisted the urge to fan herself as the spark zipped around in places that could not be so affected by this man’s touch.
His smile widened. “Yes, you are. Have I mentioned lately how much I appreciate that? The slot for very best friend in the whole world has just become yours, since clearly you’re the only one who deserves it.”
As reminders went, it was both brutal and necessary. This was a favor. Not an excuse for a man to get handsy with her.
Fine. Good. She and Jonas were friends, which was perfect. She had a habit of pouring entirely too much of herself into a man who didn’t return her level of commitment. Mark had stuck it out slightly longer than Zachary, and she didn’t like to think about how quickly she’d shed Gary and Judd. A sad commentary on her twenties that she’d had fewer boyfriends than fingers on one hand.
A favor marriage was the best kind because she knew exactly how it would end. It was like reading the last page of the book ahead of time, and for someone who loved surprise flowers but hated surprise discussions that started with “we have to talk,” the whole thing sounded really great.
No pressure. No reason to get clingy and drive Jonas away with her neediness. She could be independent and witty and build her confidence with this marriage. It was a practice run with all the best benefits. He’d already asked her to move into his penthouse on Boylan Avenue. As long as she didn’t mess up and let on how much she wanted to cling to every last inch of the man, it was all good.
Back on track, she smiled at the friend she was about to marry. They were friends with benefits that had nothing to do with sex. A point she definitely needed to keep in the forefront of her brain.
A lady in a puke-green suit approached them and verified they were the happy couple, then ran down the order of the ceremony. If this had been a real marriage, Viv might be a little disappointed in the lack of fanfare. In less than a minute, traditional organ music piped through the overhead speakers and the lady shoved a drooping bouquet at Viv. She clutched it to her chest, wondering if she’d get to keep it. One flower was enough. She’d press it into a book as a reminder of her wedding to a great man who treated her with nothing but kindness and respect.
Jonas walked her down the aisle, completely unruffled. Of course. Why would he be nervous? This was all his show and he’d always had a supreme amount of confidence no matter the situation.
His friend Warren stood next to an elderly man holding a Bible. Jonas halted where they’d been told to stand and glanced at her with a reassuring smile.
“Dearly beloved,” the man began and was immediately interrupted by a commotion at the back. Viv and Jonas both turned to see green-suit lady grappling with the door as someone tried to get into the room.
“Sir, the ceremony has already started,” she called out to no avail as the man who must be Hendrix Harris easily shoved his way inside and joined them at the front.
Yep. He looked just like the many, many pictures she’d seen of him strewn across the media, and not just because his mother was running for governor. Usually he had a gorgeous woman glued to his side and they were doing something overly sensual, like kissing as if no one was watching.
“Sorry,” he muttered to Jonas. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he’d slept in his expensively tailored shirt and pants.
“Figured you’d find a way to make my wedding memorable,” Jonas said without malice, because that’s the kind of man he was. She’d have a hard time being so generous with someone who couldn’t be bothered to