Paper Wedding, Best-Friend Bride

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  “We’ll just tell her that our quest for finding Tokoni a home created feelings for each other that we never knew we had.”

  She opened the second package of donuts. “Feelings?”

  “Yeah, you know.” He made a sour face. “We’ll tell Losa that we’ve fallen head-over-stupid-heels in love.”

  “Gee, what a nice, romantic way to put it. And if your sickly expression is any indication of how in love you are, this story you cooked up is never going to fly.”

  “Stop giving me such a hard time. You look miserable, too.”

  “That’s because I don’t want to get married.”

  “I don’t, either. But I want to be Tokoni’s father, and I want you to be his mother. And I don’t know how else to make that happen.”

  Heaven help them, Lizzie thought. He sounded so beautifully sincere, so deep and true, that a marriage based on a lie was beginning to seem like the right thing to do. “Do you really think we could pull this off?”

  “Yes, I do. But we would have to fake it with everyone, even friends and family. We couldn’t let it slip that we’re only doing it for Tokoni or that we plan to get divorced later.”

  “Won’t the divorce seem suspicious, so soon after the adoption?”

  “Not if we say that we misunderstood our feelings for each other and mixed it up with our love for the boy. Besides, when people see how amicable our divorce is and how easily we’ve remained friends, there shouldn’t be any cause for concern.”

  She imagined having Tokoni as her forever son, of sharing him with Max, of seeing this through. “I want to be his mom as much as you want to be his dad.”

  He leaned forward, lifting the hind legs of his chair off the floor. “Then let’s go for it.”

  She looked into the vastness of his eyes. By now she could barely breathe. But she agreed, anyway.

  “Okay,” she said. “But what’s our first step?” Besides sitting here, losing the last of their sanity? Her heart was pounding so fast she feared she might topple over.

  He wasn’t grounded, either, not with the way he was tipping his chair. “I think we should start by talking to Losa.”

  “Should we go see her?”

  “Truthfully, I’d rather call her with the news.” He dropped his chair back onto the floor with a thud. “In fact, we can do that later today.”

  Lizzie wasn’t ready. “I need more time than that.”

  “What for?”

  “To work on a script for us to follow.”

  “Winging it would be easier for me.”

  “I’d prefer to research what I’m going to say.” She always prepared herself for proper speeches. “I can’t just spout it off the top of my head.”

  “And I can’t refer to something you drummed up. It’ll sound canned.”

  She blew out a sigh. Already they were having problems, and they weren’t even an official couple yet.

  He glanced at the darkened window. “Maybe I should do it alone. It isn’t necessary for both of us to call her, and it’ll probably make me more nervous to have you there, anyway, with your handy-dandy script.”

  Lizzie considered his point. Lying to Losa was bad enough, but doing it together might make it worse, especially if they were out of sync. “All right, but you should go home now and try to get some rest. It won’t help your cause if you’re half-asleep when you profess these phony feelings of ours.”

  “Okay, but you better not change your mind about marrying me between now and then.”

  “I won’t.” Because as afraid as she was of becoming Max’s temporary wife, she was more afraid of losing the child they so desperately wanted.

  * * *

  Max did it. He’d talked to Losa. And now he was back at Lizzie’s house, sitting on her artfully designed patio, with its built-in barbecue and portable bar, preparing to tell her how the discussion went. He glanced around and noticed that the greenery seemed far more tropical than he recalled it being in the past, as if she’d gotten inspired by their trip to Nulah and the private gardens at the resort where they’d stayed. But this wasn’t the time to comment on her plants and flowers.

  “I think Losa believed me,” he said.

  “You think she believed you?” Lizzie’s blue eyes locked on to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that I told her everything I was supposed to tell her, and it seems like she bought it. Of course I felt like I was going to have a panic attack when I got to the part about how we’d fallen in love during our search to find Tokoni a family. But I played up how long you and I have known each other and how close we’ve always been and all that. I tried to make it sound plausible.” Even now his heart was roaring in his ears, the panic he’d endured still skirting through his blood. “Luckily, I didn’t have to fake the part about how much we wanted Tokoni. That was easy to say.”

  Lizzie looked as nervous as he felt. “Is she going to let us adopt him?”

  “She said that she can’t make that determination until after we’re married and start the process, like any other applicants would have to do. Legally, she can’t promise him to us until we meet the requirements. But she did seem eager for us to come back after the wedding, so we can all meet in person again and discuss the specifics.”

  She appeared to relax, her shoulders not nearly as tense. “That seems like a positive sign.”

  “I thought so, too. I told her that we’re planning on having a traditional ceremony. I didn’t want her to think that we were going to elope or exclude our family and friends. To me, that didn’t seem like what a happily engaged couple would do. I did stress, however, that we were eager to be together and bring Tokoni into our lives, so the wedding would be sooner than later.”

  “Sounds like you did a good job of presenting us as the type of parents Tokoni’s mother wanted him to have.”

  He’d sure as hell tried. “Thanks. But now we really do need to hire a wedding planner and get this thing going.”

  “Maybe Garrett can recommend one of the events coordinators his hotel uses.”

  “I’ll have to talk to him about it. But first I need to tell him and Jake the same story I told Losa.” Only this time Max would be lying to his brothers, something he wasn’t looking forward to.

  “I need to tell my friends, too. And decide who is going to be part of my bridal party. I’ve been a bridesmaid before, so I have an inkling of what it entails.”

  Max nodded. He was also experienced in that regard. He and Garrett had shared the responsibility of being the best men in Jake’s wedding.

  She made a pained face. “What should I do about my dad? If we’re having a traditional ceremony, should I adhere to protocol and ask him to walk me down the aisle?”

  “I don’t know, Lizzie. That’s up to you.” He couldn’t make that determination for her. Nor did he want to. “Damn, there’s so much to think about, so much to do. I’m already getting overwhelmed.”

  “Me, too.” She smoothed the front of her button-down blouse, fussing with the starched material, almost as if it were the lacy bodice of a wedding gown. “What about our living arrangements? Am I supposed to move in with you after we’re married?”

  “That makes the most sense. My house is bigger, and you can use one of the rooms in the guest wing, without anyone being the wiser.”

  “What about your maid service? Won’t they notice that we’re not staying together?”

  “We can stage the master suite to give the impression that you’re sleeping there. We can stage your room, too, so it appears as if we have a female visitor, a reclusive celebrity or someone that they’re never going to see. They’re not going to suspect it’s you. Besides, it’s a highly secure company, with housekeepers who are screened to work with wealthy clients and protect their privacy.”

 
“If I move into your mansion, what should I do about this place?”

  “You can say that you’re going to rent it out for vacationers and whatnot, keeping it furnished the way it is. It would be an ideal condo for that.”

  “Except that I won’t actually be renting it. I don’t want out-of-towners staying in my home.”

  “That part doesn’t matter. No one is going to delve that deeply into your business affairs.” He considered another aspect of the plans. “If we’re going to announce our engagement, then I need to hurry up and buy you a ring.”

  “You’re right. Everyone will be asking to see it. Whenever one of my friends gets engaged, that’s the first thing that comes up.”

  He didn’t doubt it. “I’ll arrange for a jeweler to bring some rings by for you to choose from. We can meet at my house, maybe later in the week.”

  She frowned at her left hand, where the bauble was going to go. “I’ll be sure to return it to you after the divorce.”

  He shook his head, refusing her offer. “I don’t want it back.”

  “But you could resell it.”

  “I’d rather that you kept it. You can lock it away with the jewelry your mom gave you, as a keepsake or investment or whatever.”

  “What about a wedding band for you?”

  “I’ll have the jeweler bring those, too. We can do it in one fell swoop. And hopefully with the least amount of fanfare possible.” But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t going to be a casual process, not when it involved a ritual created for people who were supposed to be in love.

  * * *

  Although Lizzie had been to Max’s house more times than she could count, she’d never expected that she would be living there. Yet that was what would be happening, soon enough.

  The three-story mansion had a spiral staircase in the center of the home that curved with an air of mystery. There was also a large entryway, a woodsy den, a formal drawing room and a screening room. On the third floor was a ballroom with a wraparound balcony, designed for glamorous parties. The original owner was the head of a movie studio, way back when.

  The servants’ quarters were located on the first level, directly off the kitchen, but Max didn’t have a live-in staff. The maid service he used kept things tidy, and when he wasn’t eating out, he cooked for himself. A chef wasn’t necessary.

  The mansion itself probably wasn’t necessary, either, Lizzie thought. But Max had bought it to console the poor battered boy he’d once been, fascinated by its rich 1930s charm.

  Today she and Max occupied the den, waiting for the jeweler to arrive. While she sat on an art deco settee, he stood beside the fireplace, with the painting of Lady Ari showcased above it. She couldn’t deny how nicely the artwork complemented the spot he’d chosen for it.

  Was this really happening? Was she actually going to become his bride?

  “I’m getting stage fright,” she said.

  “About picking out rings?”

  “About all of it. It’s weird, but I wish my mom was here to help me through it. She loved big fancy occasions.”

  “I’m sorry you have to face this without her.”

  As much as her mother’s suicide hurt, Lizzie couldn’t bear to hate her for it. “She would have liked you, Max. This house would have impressed her, too.”

  “I’ve been thinking that we could have the wedding here, that we could do the ceremony outside, on the lawn, and then head up to the ballroom for the reception.”

  She studied him: his tall, trim physique, his shiny black hair falling just shy of his shoulders. He’d never had a picnic on his lawn, let alone a wedding. He’d never used his ballroom before, either. He wasn’t keen on entertaining, even if his house was wonderfully suited for it. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”

  He shrugged. “At this point, I’d rather do it here than somewhere else. Plus it’ll be easier than trying to book another venue. I’d like to set the date for two months from now. I don’t want to hold up the adoption any longer than that.”

  “Me, neither. But we’d better be prepared for a nonstop venture, if we’re going to get everything done by then.”

  “We’ll just have to find a wedding planner who’s able to speed through it.”

  “I’ll have to put a rush on finding a dress, too.” But for now she didn’t have a clue what type of gown she was going to wear. “Gosh, can you imagine how strange it’s going to be, with you and me, reciting vows? Talk about being nervous.”

  He scowled, hard and deep. “They’re just words, Lizzie.”

  “Words about love and commitment and things that don’t pertain to us.”

  “We’re committed to Tokoni, and that’s all that matters.”

  “You’re right. I need to try to relax and go with the phony-wedding flow.”

  “Yes, you do. And so do I.” He pasted a smile on his face. “This is supposed to be a joyous occasion. We don’t want the jeweler to think there’s something wrong with us.”

  She smiled, as well, practicing her bride-to-be expression. “This will be a good test of how we’re supposed to behave.”

  He glanced at a cuckoo clock on the wall, a quirky old timepiece from the same era as the house. “He should be here soon.”

  “I wish he would hurry.” She was eager to get the ring thing over with. But thank goodness they had the luxury of the jeweler coming to them, instead of them having to go to him.

  Max’s gaze roamed over her. “You look pretty, by the way.”

  “Thank you.” She was attired in a stylish tweed ensemble with her hair twisted into a neat chignon. “I tried to keep it classy.”

  “You always do.”

  “I noticed that you donned a jacket.”

  “Yeah.” He smoothed the lapels of his sleek black sports coat. “I’ve got Batman on underneath, though.” He opened his jacket and showed her his T-shirt.

  “At least you didn’t sleep in it.” She gave him a double take. “Or did you?”

  He laughed. “I’ll never tell.”

  She laughed, too. “My fiancé is weird.”

  “Your fiancé, huh? Look who’s trying out the lingo.”

  “After today, it will be official.” Her ring would seal the deal. “So I better get used to calling you that.”

  “Until you have to start calling me your husband.”

  “Then my ex-husband.” She turned serious. “Are you going to draw up a prenup for me to sign?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “To protect your money. Typically, that’s what rich people do when they’re getting married, and you have a lot more to lose than I do.”

  “I don’t need to protect my assets from you.” He came over and sat beside her. “You’re the person I trust most in this world.”

  “Me, too. With you.” And that was precisely why they were adopting a child together. “We’re going to be awesome parents.”

  “The best,” he agreed. “And don’t worry about the wedding expenses. I’m going to pay for everything.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to.” He touched her cheek, then lifted his hand away. “But what am I going to do during the part of the ceremony where I’m supposed to kiss my bride?”

  She wet her lips, a bit too quickly. “You’ll have to kiss her, I guess.”

  “She’s going to have to kiss me back, too.”

  Her pulse fluttered at her neck, as soft as a butterfly, as sexy as a summer breeze. “Yes, she will.”

  As they both fell silent, she glanced away, trapped in feelings she couldn’t seem to control. She didn’t want to imagine what the wedding kiss was going to be like.

  Still, she wondered how it would unfold. Would he whisper something soft and soothing before he lean
ed into her? Would their mouths be slightly open, their eyes completely closed? Would she sigh and melt against him, like a princess being awakened by the wrong prince? Just thinking about it made her feel forbidden.

  Sucking in her breath, she shifted her gaze to his. She saw that he was studying her, as if he sensed what was going on in her head. Uncomfortable in her own skin, she clasped her hands on her lap. She’d been fighting these types of urges for what seemed like forever, and now the ache had gone warm and rogue.

  Brrrrinng.

  The security buzzer sounded, alerting them that the jeweler had arrived at the front gate.

  What timing.

  Max jumped off the settee and took his phone out of his pocket. He punched out a key code and opened the gate with an app he’d designed. When he glanced up, he studied her again. “You okay, Lizzie?”

  She nodded, even if she wasn’t. He’d certainly recovered much easier than she had. But he wasn’t the one who’d drifted into la-la land. “I’m fine.”

  “All right, then. I better go.” He headed for the door.

  “I’ll stay here.” And collect her composure.

  While he was gone, she opened her purse and removed her compact, checking her lipstick. Nothing was out of place, of course. Max’s mouth hadn’t come anywhere near hers.

  He returned with an older gentleman, formal in nature, who introduced himself as Timothy. The three of them gathered around a nineteenth-century mahogany card table, a focal point in the den, where Timothy could set up his portable cases. He started with the engagement rings, sweeping his hand across the impressive display once it was ready.

  The diamonds were big and beautiful and dazzling. Enormous rubies, emeralds and sapphires dazzled the eye, too. But Lizzie struggled to focus. She was still stuck on that future kiss. She even bit down on her bottom lip, trying to inflict pain as a conditioned response to keep her mind off it.

  Her method didn’t work. Biting her lip just made her hungrier for the man she was going to marry.

  “Wow. Check this out.” Max lifted a ring from its slot. An oval ruby with two perfectly matched half-moon diamonds surrounding it. He said to Timothy, “This one is downright fiery.” He glanced at Lizzie. “Like her hair.”