Ashlyn smiled. “Somehow, I think Deacon’s mom and Andrea’s mom will take over the kitchen.”
“Oh, most likely. My mom loves to cook.”
“Drew can be the ring bearer,” Josh decided. “He’ll look adorable in a little suit.”
“Now,” Emme said, “what about the honeymoon?”
Andrea shook her head again. “This isn’t a typical wedding. We don’t need a honeymoon.”
Josh wiggled his eyebrows. “Of course you need a honeymoon.”
Ashlyn slapped his shoulder. “Josh.”
“What? I wanted to throw together a little care package for them...”
“Trust me, Andy, you don’t want him to give you a care package.”
“I don’t know... I’ll ask Benton what he thinks.”
Josh looked toward the kitchen. “Good. It’s all decided. Now, is that lunch ready yet?”
She had a pot of chicken noodle soup simmering in the crock pot. “It should be just about.”
Rising, she went to check on it. Glancing over her shoulder, she felt warmth spread at the sight of her friends arguing over last minute wedding details. Five years ago, when she moved to Seattle, she hadn’t imagined she would find friends she could call family. She felt beyond blessed.
Calling them for lunch, she reached for the bowls and smiled. No matter what happened, she at least got to spend more time with Benton.
Chapter Nineteen
Benton glared at the tailor, tired of being stuck with pins. The tailor paled under his stare and fumbled again.
“Benton, stop frightening the poor man,” Deacon told him, when the tailor went to find more pins.
“He keeps poking me with those damn pins.”
Alex chuckled. “I’d poke you too if you kept looking at me like that.”
“Benton can’t help it. It’s his charm,” Ryan interjected.
“Whatever, you guys,” Benton told them, offering them all his glare too.
“The tailor thinks he can have these done within a few days. For a pretty price,” Deacon added. “Josh just needs to come get fitted.”
Benton held out his arm for the tailor. “I told you that you didn’t have to pay for these.”
“It’s my wedding present to you.”
“I figured that was you being volunteered to use your house on Christmas day.”
Deacon shrugged. “We were all going to be there anyway. Now, Christmas will just be that much more special.”
“Like magic,” Alex said.
Benton rolled his eyes. “You guys sound like Josh.”
“Guy rubs off on you,” Alex replied, turning for the girl measuring and pinning him.
Ryan clapped Benton on the back. “I’m just happy for you, man.”
“I told you guys, this marriage-”
“Whatever, Benton,” Alex interrupted, turning his words back on him.
Benton knew it would be difficult to get a word in when he was surrounded by three men who talked more than he did. Though they all knew the reasons for this marriage, none of them seemed to believe it was solely that. He let them have their delusions. What mattered, was what he and Andrea thought of it. Since she seemed to understand where he was coming from, he wasn’t worried.
“I canceled three meetings for you,” Deacon told him. “And let my secretary have the day off.”
Benton arched an eyebrow. “Like that’s so hard when you’re the boss.”
Deacon only smiled. Ryan was regaling the seamstress with tales of his time overseas, largely blown out of proportion. Alex compensated by talking about court cases he won. Both were purposefully making idiots out of themselves over a pretty girl. She didn’t seem to mind though. She spent more time laughing and looking at the two of them than she did pinning.
Though he knew he shouldn’t, he worried about Andrea. She was surrounded by friends in a safe place, but between Brad and now his father, he didn’t want to let her out of his sight. He hoped the damn tailor would be done soon so that he could go collect her.
As if reading his mind, Deacon said, “Relax, Benton. She’ll be fine.”
Knowing his friend made sense, he pulled his hand through his hair. “Yeah.”
This was the last thing he expected to be doing. It was logical enough, but it was marriage. If he was honest, he wasn’t going to be in any hurry for the divorce part. Andrea couldn’t be his to claim, but since she came to live with him, he was growing used to her presence. The fact was, he didn’t want to share her with another man. He knew he had no right to demand she be celibate if they weren’t going to be sleeping together. But thinking about her with someone else made him want to crush the imaginary man.
How much control did he really have? By proposing marriage, by keeping her at his side, what sort of toll was this protecting her taking on him? Sometimes he felt like he was standing in quicksand, one false move and he would go under. How the hell could he not care for a woman like her? If he wanted to keep from losing his heart, he needed to keep his distance. Damned difficult when she was a room away.
“Jesus, Benton. You look like you’re about to kill something,” Alex commented.
Benton shook his head. “Just thinking.”
“About killing someone?”
“Yeah, myself,” he muttered, having Alex asking what he said. Benton shook his head, not wanting to share his conflicted thoughts with his friends right now.
“You should look happy. This is your wedding,” Alex teased, winking.
Benton stared at him. Alex threw his hands up. “Okay, now I’m getting the death glare. I’ll just go to my little corner now.”
Ryan grinned. “Stop scaring the natives, Ben.”
“I’m just looking like I normally look. What the hell are you all trying to say?”
Deacon turned for his tailor. “That you’re scary looking?”
“Must be why I have to kidnap and bully a woman into marrying me.”
Alex laughed. “Benton made a funny.”
“I have a sense of humor, asshole.”
Alex looked like he doubted that was the truth. Benton gave him the middle finger. And wondered if Andrea was having as wonderful of a time as he was.
* * * *
The shop clerk greeted them as if they were old friends. Apparently, when Ashlyn shopped for her own dress, Josh took her to this shop. The clerk exclaimed over Ashlyn’s belly and laughed with Emme and Josh. Andrea looked over the sea of white and felt vaguely nauseous. How would she ever choose one?
Josh came up to her and squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Andy. I’ve got your back.” Turning to Joy, the clerk, he instructed, “We need something that flows, not too much detail. Something delicate and almost vintage.”
“I’ll take your word for it, Josh. I haven’t the first idea what to look for in a wedding dress.”
Joy immediately zeroed in on three dresses. Carrying them above her head, she motioned for Andrea to follow her to the dressing room. Andrea felt like she was having an out of body experience. She wasn’t supposed to be getting married. Marriage was for two people who loved one another, at least, so her parents had taught her. Benton might be attracted to her, but he certainly didn’t love her.
The first dress had a large flower at the hip that flopped when she tried to straighten it. The second dress showed too much cleavage. The third, fit her like a dream, falling in a soft cloud around her feet. It had delicate beading beneath the breasts and cap sleeves of gauzy lace. The back came to a gentle V-shape and zipped up, hugging her perfectly. As she stared at herself, her chest tightened, all the air squeezing out of her lungs. This was real.
Joy patted her back. “Ashlyn had the same reaction.”
Probably because she, too, was marrying for convenience, Andrea thought, and the realization frightened her to death.
Joy fitted her with a veil and shoes, grabbing her hand to drag her into the show room. Andrea followed numbly, stumbling over her own feet. A buzzing sensation
vibrated around her face and she thought if she didn’t sit down, she might fall down.
“You look like a fairy princess!” Emme exclaimed, clasping her hands together in delight.
“Perfect,” Josh agreed.
Ashlyn rose, gripping her shoulders. “Are you okay, Andy?”
Nodding mutely, Andrea waded over to her friends and sat down on the cushioned seating.
Josh placed his hand on her knee. “If it helps, Andy, I think there’s a whole lot behind Benton’s reasoning.”
She smiled wanly, knowing he was trying to make her feel better.
“Champagne?” Joy asked, adding, “And sparkling water for the mom-to-be?”
Andrea accepted the glass shoved into her hand and watched the bubbles fizzling in the pale liquid. Her stomach felt too uneasy to drink. But she toasted with the others and tried to shake the mood. It wasn’t like she was marching to her death. Just down the aisle to take part in a sham marriage.
Emme pulled her planner from her bag and marked in it. “I know someone who can get me the bouquets and boutonnieres by tomorrow. Do you want any decorations, Andy?”
“I don’t want to make a mess in Ashlyn’s house, Em. We’ll have the Christmas tree.”
“Which is gold and silver. Fabulous,” Josh said, winking.
“Only five days until my parents are here...” Andrea looked around at her friends. “It’s a good thing we don’t need much.”
“It will still be beautiful,” Emme declared.
“It will be lovely,” Ashlyn agreed, squeezing Andrea’s free hand. Of everyone, Ashlyn could understand what she was feeling the most.
After dressing back in her leggings, sweater and boots, Andrea let Joy bundle up her purchases. Ashlyn wouldn’t let her pay, wanting to offer it as a wedding gift.
“Ash, I don’t need a wedding gift,” Andrea protested.
Ashlyn handed Joy her card. “Too late for that.”
“And the flowers are mine,” Emme added.
Josh posed. “I just offered my expertise...” Emme shoved him. “Just kidding. It’s a surprise!”
Andrea looked around at her friends. “You all are so great. Really. I don’t deserve you.”
“Just hope it isn’t one of his care packages,” Ashlyn joked, slanting Josh a look.
“My care packages are the best. When you use them,” he added, gesturing to Ashlyn’s stomach. She stomped on his foot.
* * * *
Andrea was surprised, when she and Benton pulled into the drive, that she felt so tired after dress shopping and dinner. Granted, Chinese Food with their raucous friends would be enough to tire a saint. But in those moments, when the conversation flowed around her and she locked eyes with Benton, something peaceful stole through her and she considered her blessings.
“Here,” he told her, taking her garment bag and the paper one holding her shoes and veil, plus the jewelry Josh insisted she needed. “I’ll carry these.”
“Thanks. How did the tailor’s go?”
“I got poked about a hundred times and had to put up with a bunch of assholes,” he told her, but she caught his grin in the scant light from the porch.
“Mine wasn’t quite that terrible.”
“Where do you want these?”
She turned on the inside lights. “Oh, on my bed. I can put them away.”
Following him down the hall, she paused in the doorway and flipped the switch. He turned, and they stood staring at one another. Something in the air changed, and she felt her stomach clenching in response. He took a step toward her. Common sense told her to step away, but she couldn’t seem to move her feet.
Reaching her, he pulled the hat from her head and sent her hair spilling everywhere. Then his hands were inside her coat, gripping her waist as he tugged her to him. Her hands went to his chest, fisted in his shirt and she rose up to meet him. Their lips collided, and he wasted no time pushing past her barriers and sweeping his tongue into her mouth. She sighed in welcome, giving as good as she got.
His hand slipped lower, gripping her backside and leaving her quivering. She wanted nothing between them. She wanted him as much in this moment as she had any other, but she could barely breathe past the growing heat in her chest. When he jerked her flush with him, she felt the hardness of his hip, his thigh and his arousal press into her. If only it were so easy as giving in...
He pressed his forehead against hers, his breathing unsteady. Her lips burned in the most delicious way and she wondered if she would ever feel this way with a man again.
“I want you.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any damn woman and it’s driving me crazy.”
Fingers trembling, she smoothed his shirt out. “We agreed... To be friends.” And it killed her to remind him.
He sighed, drawing his body back and leaving her bereft of his warmth.
Her smile trembled like her fingers. “We’ll both be thankful later, when...” When it’s over. The unspoken words hovered in the air between them.
“Yeah...” And his expression closed off, as he moved around her and walked away. She forced her legs to take her to the bed, where she sank onto the mattress and fisted her hands in her lap. She was being smart, she was being reasonable.
So why did she feel like crying?
Chapter Twenty
The snow had all but melted, making the drive to the airport an easy one. Fingers playing with the edges of the seat belt, Andrea glanced at Benton behind the wheel. His eyes remained on the road and if he noticed her looking at him he didn’t show it. The last few days before the 23rd, they remained friendly, but he kept his distance. She understood; she all but told him to leave her alone. So why was it all she thought about?
A part of her felt excited to see her parents and another gave way to unease. She didn’t know how her father would react to Benton. This engagement came from nowhere, blinding them both and she knew her father wasn’t pleased. If he had his way, she would remain his little girl forever. She knew the last thing he wanted was to give her away to another man.
She didn’t doubt Benton could handle whatever her father did. She doubted the man had grown a fearful bone in his body. If she was honest, she wanted her father to like Benton. She wanted them to get along. Though she and Benton wouldn’t be married that long, it didn’t mean she didn’t want to remain friends. He was a good man and she wanted her father to see that.
“Thank you for picking up my parents,” she spoke into the silence, unable to keep it.
“Of course.”
“Just know... Be prepared. My father will probably be less than pleased.”
“All right,” was all he said, but Andrea thought he sounded amused.
They drew closer to the airport, jammed into the other holiday traffic. Andrea felt uncomfortable for the first time in a while in his presence. While she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong last night by reminding them of the terms of their proposal, she couldn’t help but feel as if she had anyway. The urge to apologize kept hovering on her lips. But what was she apologizing for? The thought that she might have hurt him?
Rejection hurt, even when it felt responsible. Every part of her screamed to give in, to offer herself up to him like some sort of sacrificial lamb. But she stood to lose more than her good sense. She felt like they were sparring, dancing around the attraction and what it meant to let go. When one of them gave a little, the other seemed to pull back. And it was both torture, and getting old.
How would she live with him for any amount of time like this?
“Which terminal?” Benton interrupted her thoughts.
She rattled off the one her parents told her and stared out the window at the crowds of people and cars, packed together nose to nose as they inched forward. Benton pulled into a pick-up zone and she scanned the sidewalk for her parents.
“There,” she said, pointing. Even under a winter hat her mother’s red hair was unmistakable.
Her father stood next to her mother, a bag slung over each shoulder and a suitcase in hand. Likely, both bags belonged to her mother. Like most men, her father packed light.
Benton got out of the Jeep and rounded, opening her door before she could even fully unbuckle. Murmuring her thanks, she followed him to her parents, wincing at the severe expression her father was leveling at Benton. A glance at the other man’s face told her he wasn’t remotely phased. Not that she expected him to be.
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