Fiance Next Door

“Actually, there still is going to be a wedding,” Mason cuts me off.

I raise my eyebrows at him. What?

“What are you talking about?” I ask him in a whisper. “Giselle’s not here. You said…”

“After all, it would be a waste not to have one,” Mason continues to address the crowd, ignoring me. “I mean, all of us are already here in this beautiful chapel on this beautiful day. Don’t you think so, Aster?”

He turns to me as he poses the question. Now, he’s paying attention to me. I still don’t understand what he’s talking about, though, or what I’m supposed to say.

“But there’s no bride and the groom’s gone now, too,” someone from the crowd speaks up. “You just said they’re necessary for a wedding.”

“They are,” Mason agrees. “And fortunately, we have another pair.”

What? Who?

Mason captures my gaze and holds it as he grabs my hand. “Us. Aster and me.”

My heart stops. My thoughts go blank for a moment, then start to race. Did he just say my name? Did he just say us? What does that even mean? What is he trying to do?

“Mr. Higgins,” Mason addresses my father, who stands up. “With your permission, I would like to marry your daughter.”

Again, the crowd gasps. My jaw drops.

Wait a second. Mason wants to marry me? Is this some kind of joke?

I pull my hand away. “Mason, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m serious,” he says.

And he does look it. He doesn’t look like he’s joking at all.

He takes my hand again. “You want your father to be happy, don’t you?”

I pause. Wait. Is Mason saying he’s asking me to marry him to fulfill my father’s wish?

It’s not a bad move, I guess. Everything is set for a wedding. We are in a chapel and I’m in a dress and my father has a camera. Mason is deciding to seize the opportunity. I don’t think my father will go along with it, though.

“Mason Burke, you have my permission,” my father says.

I look at him in shock. What? Is he in his right mind right now? I know he likes Mason, but I’m his daughter. His only daughter. He’s giving me away just like that?

I know he wanted to see me wed. I didn’t think he was this desperate, though. Apparently, I was wrong.

Everything has gone wrong. Giselle backed out of her own wedding, and now Mason Burke wants to marry me to make my father happy. And he just agreed to it. The world has gone mad. The question is: Do I go along with this madness?

“So, Aster Higgins…” Mason grins. “Shall we have a wedding?”

Chapter Eight ~ Now, What?

Mason

Aster Higgins-Burke. From bridesmaid to bride to wife. My wife.

I still find myself wrestling to believe that fact as I sip from my glass of Dom Perignon and watch her mingle with Giselle and Bill’s guests. Well, I guess they’re our guests now, though they’re mostly my mom’s friends, which is why she seems the most relieved that a wedding took place.

For a moment there, I thought Aster would say no even though her father had given his approval and all eyes were on her. I think after I popped the question, everyone was holding their breath. I know I was. I could see the battle going on in her eyes. I know she wanted to refuse. She might have thought of asking me to marry her, but she was still against the idea of marrying me.

In the end, though, her love for her father won, just as I predicted it would. She deemed it right to grant him one wish, one final wish. She chose his happiness over hers. Not that I don’t have every intention of making her happy.

She’s smiling now as she’s talking to one of my mother’s friends. That smile of hers makes her look even more radiant in her dress, almost like a fairy or a goddess. Her cheeks turn rosy as she accepts the congratulatory remarks of those around her. Good. She’s lost the stiff shoulders and her smiles even look more genuine now. In between them, though, especially when she’s touching the golden band on her finger or brushing her hair over her shoulder while answering a question about me, I can still sense her apprehension. It will take her time to fully accept her new role.

No problem. We’ve got all the time in the world and I have my ways to help… ease her into it.

“You sneaky little devil!” Leander pats my back a tad too hard and I nearly spill my 400 bucks-a-bottle champagne.

“Shit, Leander.” I set my glass down and throw him a glare.

He puts his hands up. “Whoa. I thought they taught you how to avoid sneak attacks in the Army.”

They did.

“I was busy admiring my wife,” I tell him.

“Right. Right.” He runs his hand through his hair, then pats my shoulder. “Finally, the day has come for my little brother to fall prey to a woman’s charms.”