Best Friend Bride

The baubles she could do without and had only mentioned jewelry in the car on the way to Jonas’s parents’ house because he’d pushed her to name something he could do for her. She hadn’t really been serious. But all at once, she loved that Jonas had unwittingly allowed her to stand shoulder to shoulder with her sister when it came to talking about whose marriage was hotter.

“Your husband is giving you jewelry already?” Grace asked, and her tone was colored with something that sounded a lot like she was impressed. “Things must be going awfully well.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Viv commented airily and waved her hand like she imagined a true lady of the manor would. “We didn’t even make it out of the foyer where he gave it to me before his hands were all over me.”

Shameless. This was the raciest conversation she’d ever had with anyone except maybe Jonas, but that didn’t count. She should be blushing. Or something. Instead she was downright giddy.

“That’s the best.” Grace’s dreamy smile curved back into place. “When you have a man who loves you so much that he can’t wait. I’m thrilled you finally have that.”

Yeah, not so much. Her mood crashed and burned as reality surfaced. Viv nodded with a frozen expression that she hoped passed for agreement.

Obviously Grace knew what it felt like to have a man dote on her and give her jewelry because he cared, not because they were faking a relationship. Grace could let all her feelings hang out as much as she wanted and Alan would eat it up. Because they were in love.

Something that felt a lot like jealousy reared its ugly head in the pit of Viv’s stomach. Which was unfair and petty, but recognizing it as such didn’t make it go away.

“Jonas was worth waiting for,” she said truthfully, though it rankled that the statement was the best she could do. While Viv’s husband might rival her sister’s in the attentive lover department, when it came to matters of the heart, Grace and Alan had Viv and Jonas beat, hands down.

“I’m glad. You had a rough patch for a while. I started to worry that you weren’t going to figure out how stop putting a man’s emotional needs ahead of yours. It’s good to see that you found a relationship that’s on equal footing.”

Somehow, Viv managed to keep the surprise off her face, but how, she’d never know. “I never did that. What does that even mean?”

“Hon, you’re so bad at putting yourself first.” Grace waved the waiter over as he breezed by and waited until he refilled both their wineglasses before continuing. “You let everyone else dictate how the relationship is going to go. That last guy you dated? Mark? He wanted to keep things casual, see other people, and even though that’s not what you wanted, you agreed. Why did you do that?”

Eyebrows hunched together, Viv gulped from her newly filled wineglass to wet her suddenly parched throat. “Because when I told him that I wanted to be exclusive, he said I was being too possessive. What was I supposed to do, demand that he give me what I want?”

“Uh, yeah.” Grace clucked. “You should have told him to take a hike instead of waiting around for him to do it for you.”

“It really didn’t take that long,” she muttered, but not very loud, because Grace was still off on her tangent.

Her sister was right. Viv should have broken up with Mark during that exact conversation. But on the heels of being told she was “clingy,” “controlling” and “moving too fast” by Zachary, Gary and Judd respectively, she hadn’t wanted to rock the boat.

Why was it such a big deal to want to spend time with a man she was dating? It wasn’t clingy. Maybe it was the wine talking, but Grace’s point wasn’t lost on Viv—she shouldn’t be practicing her independence but finding a different kind of man. One who couldn’t stand being apart from her. One who texted her hearts and smiley faces just to let her know he was thinking of her. One who was in love with her.

In other words—not Jonas.

The thought pushed her mood way out of the realm of fit for company. Dinner with Grace was a mistake. Marrying Jonas had been a mistake. Viv had no idea what she was doing with her life or how she was going to survive a fake marriage she wished was real.

“I just remembered,” she mumbled. “I have to...do a thing.”

Pushing back from the table, Viv stood so fast that her head spun. She’d planned to walk home but maybe a cab would be a better idea.

“What?” Grace scowled. “You called me. I canceled drinks with the ladies from my auxiliary group. How could you forget that you had something else?”

Because Viv wasn’t perfect like Grace with the perfect husband who loved her, and frankly, she was sick of not getting what she wanted. “Jonas has scrambled my wits.”

Let her sister make what she would out of that. Viv apologized and exited the restaurant as quickly as she could before she started crying. After not seeing Jonas this morning and the watermelon-slash-red-food-coloring disaster and the incredibly busy day at the store and then realizing that she had not in fact gotten to join the club her sisters were in, crying was definitely imminent.

The icing on the cake happened when she got home and Jonas was sprawled on the couch watching TV, wearing jeans with a faded Duke T-shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin.

His smile as he glanced up at her was instant and brilliant and that was all it took to unleash the waterworks.

With tears streaming down her face, Viv stood in the foyer of the condo she shared with Jonas until whatever point in the future he decided to pull the plug on their marriage and it was all suddenly not okay.

“Hey, now. None of that.” Jonas flicked off the TV and vaulted to his feet, crossing the ocean of open space between the living room and the foyer in about four strides.

He didn’t hesitate to gather Viv in his strong arms, cradling her against his chest, and dang it, that T-shirt was really soft against her face. It was a testament to how mixed-up she was that she let him guide her to the leather couch and tuck her in against his side as he held

her while softly crooning in his baritone that she’d heard in her sleep for aeons.