Daisy nodded again, feeling a little stronger with Tonya’s odd yet helpful pep talk.
“So you’re going to go put on a good show for your guests, Mason, and the cameras. And if you feel the need to cry, do it with a smile so everyone will believe you’re actually happy. Suck it up, say your fake vows, and get it over with. Then collect your check for the boutique and move on.”
“You’re right,” Daisy said, her voice not as weak as she expected. “I didn’t do this to have a fairy-tale ending, but to get a check to make my business bigger and better, and that’s what I need to remember.”
“I’m going to go take my place, and you better be right behind me. Remember to smile for the cameras.” Tonya plastered a smile on her face, grabbed her bouquet, and wandered out of the little room toward the sanctuary.
Daisy took one last glance in the mirror. “You can do this. You don’t really love Cole. You love the thought of getting married. You’d love a happily ever after, but this one isn’t yours.” She swallowed hard on the last sentence, her emotions sticking in her throat. She didn’t want to think about how she might really love Cole or not, and it was simply too late to worry about it any more. She had to go through with her end of the deal no matter how much it hurt.
By the time the day was done, she would be Cole’s wife—pretend wife. Then she’d get back to real life and hopefully she’d be happy again.
Until then, she had to fake it.
…
Parker stood at Cole’s side, elbowing him again, chuckling quietly so only they could hear. “You really going through with this? It’s not too late to be the runaway groom.”
Cole jokingly played along for good show even as his heart pounded with nerves. Grooms were supposed to be nervous, weren’t they? “Nice. You’re supposed to be the best man, not my partner in crime.”
Parker was wrong, of course. It was too late. If Cole wanted his money, he had to go through with this.
He only had one goal for today: make it look good for the cameras and collect his check. Later, he would deal with Daisy and their real-life situation.
“You’re right,” he joked, playing along like he thought Parker expected. “It’s not to late to hop a plane to Vegas and bail on this.”
Movement at the end of the aisle caught his attention. Daisy waited while their guests stood and turned to face her. She was breathtakingly beautiful; the entire room was instantly captivated. He’d never seen her look more amazing.
“Would you run away from that?” he asked quietly. He knew his answer. Nope.
Daisy walked herself down the aisle, no father at her side. Of course she was used to not having her father around since he’d passed away when she was a teenager. But it was custom to be walked down the aisle by your father, and he hadn’t even asked if she was upset about not having one there for her.
Cole was an ass. And now it was too late to fix it. The idea of Daisy being alone in this important moment made his chest ache.
And yet there she was looking confident and beautiful and completely at ease with walking alone. He should have known she would be okay. She wasn’t your average bride.
When she joined him, he took her hand. She looked amazing from a distance, but up close, she was stunning. A hint of nervousness flickered in her eyes, but when she met his gaze, it seemed to disappear.
Any joking thoughts he’d had of leaving her and bailing on this marriage scam vanished. All he could see was Daisy waiting to become his bride. Fake bride! He needed to get that straight.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said.
“Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself.”
The way she looked at him, evaluating him with a hint of teasing flirtation in her eyes, sent his thoughts to somewhere far away from this church and to places way less pure. Marrying Daisy today would be easy. Having a wedding night with her would be even easier, if she’d play along with that part, too. A man could dream.
The minister appeared at the altar, adjusting his clothing and smoothing down his hair as if he’d hurried to get there. Cole would have breathed a sigh of relief if he’d bothered to realize the minister was missing and if the wedding was real. But instead, all he noticed was that the man standing in front of them, Bible in hand, was not the man Mason had described as the actor who would marry them.
Daisy scrunched up her forehead and motioning with a tilt of her chin toward the strange man, the question of who he was clearly on her mind, too. From among the congregation of friends and family, Mason nodded almost imperceptivity, telling Cole that all was well and they should continue.
The minister said a bit about the sanctity of marriage and a bunch of other stuff Cole couldn’t concentrate on. The only thing holding his attention was Daisy’s gaze meeting his, the tremble of her fingers as he slid her wedding band into place, and the patch of milky-white skin between her breasts as they heaved against the tight corseted top of her gown. Would she let him peel her out of that dress later? Later, when all this pretending was finally done and they could be themselves again. Hopefully.
“You may now kiss your bride,” the minister said.
Cole had been listening for that command the whole time, and he was only too eager to bring her into his arms and press his lips to hers. His heart felt as if it might explode when she placed her hand over its pounding beat and fisted his shirt in her hand to pull him closer. He loved it when she did that. Her lips parted, inviting him in. He accepted, tasting her, savoring her.
A throat cleared somewhere to his side, and reality interrupted his moment of bliss. “Let’s save a little mystery for the honeymoon, shall we?” the minister joked.
He pulled back, reluctantly, and peered into her eyes. Tears brimmed and spilled down her cheeks, her chin quivering. Cole ignored the minister’s attempted joke, too concerned about the unhappiness on Daisy’s face to pay attention to anything else. This was not how a new bride was supposed to look. The warmth he’d felt a moment earlier ceased, turning into a lead weight, taking his breath. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.
She wiped her eyes with a tissue and smiled, even as her chin still quivered. “I’m fine, Cole. I’m…happy. Just like any bride would be on her wedding day. Now smile and walk me back down the aisle, husband.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she bit her lip.
He could tell she held back a stream of new tears but didn’t understand why. Were they tears of happiness like she said? Were they part of the act? Or was there more to it that she wasn’t telling him?
“If you and your witness will join me for the signing of the marriage license,” the minister said, more as a command than a question. He walked to a small table set off to the side of the altar.
This was not part of the original plan. There wasn’t supposed to be the signing of a document because they didn’t need one for the wedding to be believable. Cole looked pointedly at Mason, who did nothing but nod slightly again and twirl his mustache casually. If Mason wasn’t concerned, maybe there wasn’t cause to be.
Cole took Daisy’s hand and led her to the little table and held out a chair for her to sit. He sat in the one beside her. “Smile, and sign. Let’s get this over with.”
“We weren’t told to sign anything.”
“I’m not sure we have a choice at this point. We just need to play along, like always.”
Daisy put the pen to paper but hesitated. “Are you sure?”
He shrugged. “As sure as I can be with everyone watching us.”
She signed her name and handed the pen to him to do the same, then waited while Parker and Tonya signed as witnesses. Afterward, they retook their places.
“I’m pleased to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Benton,” the minister said, then encouraged the congregation to applaud. It didn’t take much.
Cole took Daisy’s hand and paused so people could snap a picture. They walked down the aisle smiling and waving at their guests and then disappeared out the front door to the limo waiting out front.
He pulled her into his arms as they stopped in front of the vehicle. Their guests spilled out of the church behind them, cheering good wishes for the new couple and snapping pictures. They posed together as they had done so many times before, smiling, kissing, embracing, but this time he felt her pull back into herself instead of letting go and getting carried away in the moment as she usually did.
He helped her climb into the waiting limo, anxious to finally be alone with her so he could inquire about her sudden bout of unhappiness, but once inside the vehicle, he learned they weren’t alone. A photographer waited, ready to snap more pictures of the happy couple en route to their reception.
The charade continues.
…
Daisy managed to pull herself together in the limo ride over to the reception hall, and it seemed like she’d finally convinced Cole everything was fine. She’d had a rough moment or two after her vows, but now she’d moved past it.
Cole, she realized with every glowing smile he offered, was completely okay with their fake wedding and their business arrangement finally coming to an end. She could see it even more clearly when he’d greeted his buddies at the reception, fist bumping and accepting a round of celebratory shots. He was already falling back into his partying, bachelor ways. And the second this whole mess was over, he’d fall seamlessly back into his old life without hesitation and with a fatter wallet.
On her fourth glass of champagne, she’d finally convinced herself she was okay with her fate. She was good at helping other brides get married, but her own happily ever after would come another day, if at all. So she may as well enjoy this one. Cole was certainly enjoying it. And if this fake marriage meant nothing to him, why should she let it mean anything to her?
Who cared if this meant she was no closer to her goal of a committed relationship with someone who wanted to have babies with her and grow old with her?
Not her. Not anymore.
The speeches ended with another toast and another empty glass of champagne for Daisy. It may not be classy to get bombed on your wedding day, but she was beyond the point of caring. It wasn’t as if she was getting drunk at her real wedding. This fake one didn’t count.
The DJ played the opening to their chosen first dance. Well, they hadn’t chosen it. The public had. And for some reason, they all thought “The Way You Look Tonight” was the perfect song for Cole and Daisy. The song was great for other couples maybe, but not for her.
“Is this song ever going to end?” she muttered as the DJ’s CD droned on and on.
He pulled back enough to look her in the face. “The bride usually enjoys her first dance with her husband, doesn’t she?”
“The bride is usually legit, too, but neither of those things are true for us. I can’t help it if I hate the tune our adoring public picked.”
He smirked, his grin lopsided and über cute. “You get the most adorable twinkle in your eyes when you’re drunk.”
She batted him playfully on the shoulder. “I’m not drunk. I’m tipsy at best. And you’re no better. There’s no way you aren’t feeling it after all those shots I saw you taking with your boys.”
“True. Any little tells on me that give away my intoxication that I should know about, so I can hide them better from you in the future?”
He must be drunk since we have no future.
“Only your wandering hands. You always get touchy-feely when you drink.”
Currently his hand had taken up residence on her ass. Good thing they were newlyweds and supposed to be all over each other.
He cocked an eyebrow at her and put on his sexiest, flirtiest face. “I don’t need alcohol to have wandering hands with you. Just the sight of you makes my hands want to wander all over your body.”
“Now I know that’s the alcohol talking since you haven’t tried to touch me in months, and we’ve been sleeping in the same bed.” She suddenly regretted resisting her feelings toward him all those nights she shared his bed. So much wasted time.
Right now, she’d give almost anything to be with him one last time before this whole charade ended. Sure, being with Cole again wouldn’t help her get over him any faster when their sham of a marriage was over for good. But after saying her fake vows, she knew without a doubt she’d already fallen for him completely, and nothing would change how much it would hurt to say good-bye. One more romp in the sack wouldn’t make her broken heart hurt more than it already would.
“The only reason I didn’t hit on you was because you’d made it perfectly clear you weren’t interested. I seem to remember some strict bedroom rules laid down by you. If you’ve changed your mind, say the word, and I’m all yours.”
I’m all yours… If only that were true…
Chapter Nineteen
Cole and Daisy completed each of the mandatory and absolutely obnoxious wedding traditions, including feeding each other cake, tossing the bouquet, and flinging her garter to his buddies. That last one hadn’t been a complete waste of time. He had gotten a glimpse of her silky-smooth thigh while he’d been between her legs retrieving the garter. But all it had done was whet his appetite to be between her legs again—this time, without an audience.
He whispered in her ear, “Let’s get out of here and go to our room.”
“It’s barely ten. We can’t leave now. The dance just started.” She tried to wiggle out from his arms, but he held her tighter, drawing her into his embrace, nuzzling his lips against the spot below her ear he knew made her melt like ice cream in the sun.
“We’re the couple of honor, and we can leave whenever we want. And I want you. Now.” His usual smooth, subtle seduction was thrown right out the nearest window, and he didn’t give a damn. He’d been resisting her for months, lying in bed beside her each night and never getting to be with her. Now they’d spent the entire day with their hands on each other, kissing and playing up their romance for their friends and family, and his resistance had weakened to nonexistent. He needed her. Tonight.
Goddamn it, he’d never wanted anyone more than he wanted her—his wife.
He laughed to himself. My wife. Fake wife, but maybe she could be a real girlfriend once their arrangement ended.
“No. We can’t. I won’t.”
“Yes. We can. You will. I know you want to. I know you want me. I can see it in your eyes.” He kissed her neck and felt her melt into him. Oh yes, he was winning her over to the dark side. She did want him.
“Cole, stop,” she whispered, breathlessly.
“Do you really want me to stop?” he asked, kissing a path to her jaw en route to her lips. Lips he couldn’t wait to taste again. Lips that he hoped would grant him access to the rest of her body. He could already imagine how wonderful wedding cake would taste on her tongue. “Say yes to me.”
“Yes.”
Blood rushed away from his brain at her consent, leaving him slightly light-headed. He took her by the hand, weaving through the crowd and saying quick good-byes. No one tried to stop them from leaving early from their own wedding. If anything, they encouraged them with whistles, catcalls, and congratulations.
Mason Bridgewater stood off to the side of the door near the bar. He fiddled with his mustache, then downed the rest of the amber liquid in his glass, looking far less enthusiastic than expected.
Cole pulled Daisy into the elevator, punched the button for the penthouse suite Mason had provided, and pushed her against the wall, pinning her with his body. He stroked his thumb along her jaw, forcing her head back so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. A reflection of his lust stared back at him as if he were looking in a mirror. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
“I never thought I’d find a woman in a white dress sexy as sin, but that was before I saw you in one. I’ve been dreaming about getting you out of this damn distraction all day.” He ran his fingers down her throat to the center of her cleavage, tugging gently on the fabric to pull it away from her skin. He peered down at the view of two soft mounds of flesh, ri
sing and falling with her quick breaths, his own breath faster and harder than a moment before.
The elevator chimed, and he pulled her away from the wall, forcing himself not to sprint to the door of the hotel suite. His hand shook as he tried to jam the key card into the slot. The light flashed red, denying him access.
“Damn it!” he muttered, frustrated at his own sloppiness. This better not be a sign of things to come because he didn’t want to be sloppy with Daisy tonight, not when she’d finally shown interest in being with him again. Nope. He planned on giving her the best wedding night of her life.
Shit. A fake wedding night. But at the moment, it didn’t feel anything less than real to him. He’d gone through the wedding motions all day, and tonight he wanted his wedding night, too. Even if it wasn’t real, it was with Daisy, and that sounded pretty damn good. He wanted nothing more right now than to get his fake wife out of her dress and into his arms.
He banged his forehead onto the door, forcing a deep breath into his lungs to steady his nerves and his thoughts. When he inserted the key card again, it worked.
Before the door had even closed behind them, he had her up against the wall, just how he liked her. He loved it when she was pinned between him and an immoveable surface. It gave him a rush to know that she felt all of him pressing into her, every last inch. When he forced his leg between her thighs, she arched against him like she always did, moaning as he put enough pressure against her center to make her squirm.
God, he loved this woman.
He stopped kissing Daisy and pulled back to look her straight in the eye. He held her hands in one of his above her head, while his other hand had been snaking up her dress. He let her go and cupped her face instead so he could look at her.
Did he actually love her? What that possible? He was only sure of one thing: now that their deal was over, he didn’t want his time with her to end.
The Wedding Hoax Page 16