How the hell did I end up here?
Standing in the offices of a city clerk, wearing a dark blue dress that hugs my body — because no way in hell was I gonna wear white — with Beckett Donnelly by my side and two people we barely know as witnesses, I hear myself saying “I do,” as if from a distance. Like I’m a spectator, and not the main star of this show.
A week ago, I was going through the motions, living life in Cliveden, with my grandfather as the only light in the dark. Now he’s gone, but instead of feeling tossed overboard without a raft like I thought I was, I have the warm, firm grip of Beckett’s hand holding mine, anchoring me. Holding me up.
The surrealness of this moment hits hard, and I’m yanked back into my body and my surroundings by five little words I had somehow forgotten would be coming.
“You may kiss your bride.”
I turn to Beckett, and he clearly sees the wild panic on my face because he winks at me, the gesture subtle and hidden by his glasses. The hand that’s not holding mine comes up to cup my face. Slowly, he leans in, and I know instinctively he’s giving me a minute to adjust to what’s happening. His lips brush the corner of my mouth softly, and I just barely hear him whisper.
“Breathe, Cam.”
Then he’s kissing me. It’s light at first, like he’s testing me, seeing how far I’ll let this go. But I’m very aware of the eyes on us right now and the fact that this needs to be convincing. So I press forward.
That’s apparently the invitation he was waiting for, and Beckett takes over. He drops one hand to the small of my back, holding me against him in a way that feels both protective and possessive. But for some reason, I don’t hate it. His lips are soft but firm against mine, showing me he’s in control and hinting at somethingmorethat intrigues me, even as it surprises me.
I could easily get lost in a kiss like this.
But this is Beckett. Not some guy I’m looking to hook up with. This is my best friend, the man who’s bailing me out of an impossible situation. And the last person on earth I want to hurt. So instead of giving in and opening to his kiss, I take a step back and break contact. It’s more than a little surprising to find my body immediately leaning back in, as if I can’t stand to be apart from him, but I fight that feeling away.
Wendy and Grandpa’s lawyer are clapping, and I think the clerk is saying something, but I’m staring at Beckett. At the brown eyes that normally tell me everything he’s thinking. Right now they’re guarded, and that makes me defensive in return.
Have we already fucked-up our friendship just by going this far? God, I hope not.
As we finish signing some documents and take our leave of city hall, aside from expressing his thanks and saying goodbye to Wendy and the city clerk, Beckett doesn’t speak a word. His hand holding mine is the only reassurance I have that he’s not getting ready to run.
Granted, I’m the one who history has shown is more likely to run, but still.
On the steps of Brandon City Hall, Barkley shakes Beckett’s hand, then turns to me. “Cam, I’ll start the process of transferring the trust to you immediately. It should be finalized within a few weeks, as soon as the official registration of your marriage comes through. Will you and your new husband be staying in Cliveden?”
My breath catches at the wordhusband, but I manage to hide it. “No, actually, we’re going to move back to Dogwood Cove, on Vancouver Island. It’s where Beckett’s family lives, and since there’s no one left in Manitoba…” I let my voice trail off.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. Goddamnit, no more fucking crying.
Beck takes over. “We’ve done the long-distance relationship thing for long enough. Cam was here to be close to Wilbert, but our home is on the West Coast.”
Yeah, that sounds a lot better than what I said. I nod and give a weak smile to Barkley.
“Alright, not a problem. I’ll be in touch via email or phone if needed. Congratulations again to both of you. I know this has been a rough week, Cam, but I do hope you find some time to celebrate the good.”
All I can do is nod again. Part of me is reeling that this man, this lawyer, actually buys that this marriage is genuine and the real deal. It’s insane, if you ask me, that without question, he’s assuming Beck and I are together and in love, and that getting married just a few days after burying my grandfather is in no way suspicious.
Or maybe he does suspect things aren’t what they seem and he’s just choosing to ignore that fact. Whatever, I don’t give a fuck. If this lets me access the money from Grandpa and get the hell out of Manitoba, I’m good.
When we get home, Beckett heads into the kitchen. “I’m going to make a pot of coffee, then we’ll finish packing whatever you need. We have to be at the airport by five.” He pauses and turns back to me. “Are you sure you’re ready to fly out tonight? We can postpone if you want more time to pack or go through your grandfather’s house.”
I shake my head emphatically. “I want to get out of this town. I’ll come back in a few weeks to deal with things, but right now, I just want to leave.”
He studies me for a minute, but obviously sees that I mean it. “Okay.”
When he turns back to making coffee, I debate just going to pack, but I need to make sure things are okay before I get on a plane and fly across the country. “Beck, are we good?”
His hands still, but only for a second. Then his head moves in a slow nod as he turns, and leans back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. “We’re good, Cam.”
A warm wave of relief washes over me, making me realize just how much I had been worrying that this whole sham would disrupt our friendship. But I should’ve known better. Beckett would never let anything come between us.
The one thing I’ve never doubted was his loyalty to our friendship. And looking at him now, with the sleeves of the light grey collared shirt he wore for our wedding pulled tight across his biceps, I find myself remembering the skinny nerdy guy I first met in a calculus lecture hall. The guy I instantly felt a connection to and immediately felt safe around to be myself. He was mild-mannered, quiet, shy, and obsessed withThe Lord of The Rings.
