Say Yes

“Yes. I know what this is about,” I said, shaking myself out of my thoughts. “Don’t worry about it—or me.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see how long that lasts when all is said and done. And—speak of the devil.” Grant whistled, peering out the window. “Damn. Okay, I’m officially jealous. Mackenzie cleans up nice…”

My eyes followed the trail of Grant’s gaze. The breath left my lungs in an astonished gasp as I saw Mackenzie descend the stairs, leaving her apartment for the last time for the next few months. She was all in white, a dress that hugged her bodice, followed the gentle curve of her waist, and flared out at the bottom just above her knees. She wasn’t in heels, but the little white flats she wore were so perfectly her that it didn’t really matter to me either way.

What got me most, however, was her face. Subtle makeup let her beauty shine through and was just ever so slightly enhanced with a dark, thin liner and deep red lipstick. Her hair was curled, falling down in springy coils at her shoulders.

“You’re staring, lover-boy,?

?? Grant teased before he got out of the car and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Mackenzie! It’s been way too damn long. You look beautiful. Damn, Walker doesn’t deserve to have you as his bride. I hope you remind him of that—often.”

Mackenzie’s laugh tinkled in the air; I could have sworn it was fucking music.

“Oh, I’m sure Walker already knows that,” she teased right back. I saw her peer over Grant’s shoulder, her eyes sparkling. My heart stopped again, and it was only by some miracle that I managed to pull myself from my stupor and get out of the car to join Grant and Macks. They pulled apart and Mackenzie stood back, gesturing to her dress.

“I know it’s not much,” she said sheepishly. “But I figured the white was a good touch. Right?”

“No… no, it’s good,” I said. “Really good. You look beautiful.”

Her face instantly colored, her gaze averted, and had I not seen the tiniest smirk peeking out, I’d have thought she was properly embarrassed.

“Thanks… I’m glad you like it.”

Before I could say something else that I’d probably regret, Grant tossed his arms around our shoulders. “Come on, kiddies,” he said, giving me one of his goofy, mischievous smirks. “We have some trouble to make.”

He wouldn’t let me drive, insisting that I get in the back with Mackenzie since we were the ‘two blushing love birds.’ I gave him a stern raised brow; the fucker had no damn tact, whatsoever.

Still, I slid into the back with Macks as Grant got into the front. We pulled out, and the two of them made small talk. Grant started bragging about a film role he’d recently landed, a part he was certain would finally earn him some respect as a serious actor. I was grateful that, aside from an occasional affirmation, I didn’t really have to pay attention to them.

Which was good. Because I couldn’t keep my focus off Mackenzie. I didn’t stare—no, that would be too out of line, even for me. But I could feel her heat almost too close to me. Every inhale brought the scent of the same fruity perfume she’d worn that day in the office into my nostrils. Each little laugh poured into my ears, its melodious tune imprinting on my brain.

It’s just a conditional marriage. A sham, I reminded myself. There’s no need to get in your head about it.

I caught sight of Mackenzie out of the corner of my eyes, her eyes twinkling as she grinned at something Grant said.

Shit.

Was it possible to start falling in love all over again?

5

Mackenzie

My mom and dad used to talk about how wonderful their wedding day had been. They’d gotten married in their church, with a small congregation of family and friends… and a tiny little me growing inside my mom. They were hardly conventional—but then again, this union of mine was the literal definition of unconventional.

Riding in the car with Walker and Grant—who’d volunteered to be our required witness—felt like the good old days again. Our old friend chattered away about himself at a pace and frequency that may have been concerning had it not been Grant; he’d always been charmingly self-indulgent.

It was a good distraction, which I absolutely needed. Try as I might to ignore it, I was way too aware of Walker sitting beside me. I’d gone a modest nine yards to put together a white outfit to make this look authentic, but Walker had reacted in a way I hadn’t expected. Damn near slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

Had my own expression mimicked his when I saw him get out of the car? He looked too good in the perfectly tailored coal-black suit, his copper hair slicked back. He was breathtakingly handsome, and I cursed myself for being so taken with how he looked. I was distracted in the confines of the car where the scent of his expensive aftershave filled my senses.

I glanced to the side quickly, hoping one more peek would go unnoticed. His hand rested in the space between us as his long, strong fingers—which could belong to a pianist if I didn’t know Walker hated playing piano and was far more fond of sax—strummed against the leather.

“All right, we’re here!” Grant called, pulling me from my reverie.

Drawing in a deep breath, I reminded myself why I was doing this—I needed the money and a roof over my head.

And maybe this whole strange ordeal would give me some kind of closure with Walker, who’d lived up to his name in the worst way by literally walking out of my life all those years ago.