Accidentally Married to Brother's Best Friend

by Sofia T Summers

  I knew I had to. I had to deal with all of this. I had to get back to my regular life. And we couldn’t live on wedding cake and fancy pasta forever. Even if it was tempting to. Even if a part of me… wanted to stay here.

  I just—the way that Preston had been with me the last few days, I wanted that. I wanted to explore him more. And I didn’t just mean in a sexual way (although yes, that, definitely that, my desire for him was nowhere near sated). He was… being so kind. Offering me his arm as we walked through the ice sculptures. And we’d had some fun, playing board games together, eating together. And sleeping in his arms… I had felt safe and cared for. I’d never slept with anyone like that. Never spent the night with someone holding me. And I wanted… more.

  You’re being a stupid girl again, I told myself sternly as I finished organizing everything in the house, making sure that we were all cleaned up. Board games had to be put away, candles snuffed out, the food put back into the freezer and fridge. It would keep, now, until we could get someone up here to handle it—probably donate to a local homeless shelter, that would be a nice meal for everyone.

  I doubted that the bride and groom would want it now, after all. Except maybe the cake? I kind of wished that we’d gotten to eat the rest of it. A tiny, spiteful part of me that was so frustrated with this entire situation and with the bride and groom’s behavior wanted to make sure that they didn’t get any of the cake they’d picked out.

  But that was just the childish part of me. I had to be a professional now. I’d had my fun, I’d gotten to spend a weekend having sex with Preston, I could move on.

  It was just that I hadn’t gotten as much time with him as I could have. What if we’d given into the temptation, the attraction, between us earlier? I could’ve had two whole days of glorious sex with him instead of just the two times. Why couldn’t the snow plows have waited just one more day, one more day so that I could have him in that gigantic bathtub, or properly in the bed, in front of that roaring fire like we were actually living out that mountain man cliché?

  Now it was just another set of pipe dreams. Ah, well.

  Probably for the best, I told myself sternly. There was no reason for me to get all upset. Preston and I could never work.

  But what if you could? That stupid voice in the back of my head whispered hopefully. He’s clearly changed. He took such good care of you. You had fun with him.

  Goddammit. This was not the time to be second guessing myself. I didn’t want Preston! I couldn’t want Preston. He’d agreed to the whole idea that we wouldn’t work together. Why should I be pining when he wouldn’t be? As much as he might have grown as a person, I wasn’t going to put myself in that situation, not again. I wouldn’t be the one heartbroken while he didn’t care.

  Preston helped me to set everything to rights in the house, cleaning everything up. He even found the laundry room and threw the bedding in there to be washed. We put the food back into the fridge—after having more cake for breakfast—and the wine, and swept off the back patio.

  By the time we were finished, it was almost like we’d never been here. Only by opening up the food in the kitchen and seeing that some of it was eaten would you know that things hadn’t gone according to plan.

  Preston got the sheets out of the dryer and went upstairs to the master bedroom to fold them. I double checked my appearance in one of the mirrors hanging on the wall in the foyer by the front door. He was still being so helpful. This man that I’d sworn to hate… but now I felt more longing and lust than actual hatred.

  What if I missed him after we said goodbye? The idea scared me. What if he went from being my greatest mistake to the one that got away?

  I told myself sternly to pull it all together and to stop being so dramatic, glaring at myself in the mirror. I had been fine without Preston in my life before now and I would be fine without him in it after now.

  The words rang hollow, even just in my own head.

  Preston came back downstairs. “I don’t think I did as good of a job as whatever cleaning crew set this all up, but I did make the bed.”

  “You didn’t have to do that—you could’ve just put the sheets at the end of it.”

  “Nah. I don’t want to give whoever has to clean up this mess more to deal with.” He smiled casually at me, and then went to pick up his luggage and put it in the car.

  I’d been wearing his shirts while I was staying here. Now I was back in my dress again, just so that I could look my best while I dealt with the wedding party, but I missed the feeling of it. I missed having his smell on me.

  Could he still smell me on his shirts? When he took them out of the luggage, would he press them to his face to see if he could catch a bit of my scent? Would…

  Oh my God. This was ridiculous. I wasn’t a teenager in college anymore! I was a full-grown adult with her own business. I wasn’t going to pine after a man when we’d spent only a couple of days together. I wouldn’t let myself.

  Preston came back in—was it just my imagination, or did he look a bit… sad? Disappointed? But then he was smiling at me and I was sure that I’d imagined it. I was just projecting, only seeing what I’d hoped to see. Why would Preston be sad to leave, after all? He had his law firm and his family to deal with.

  “We’re all ready to go,” he told me.

  I nodded in agreement. “Great.” I smiled, hoping I sounded a lot more cheerful than I felt.

  I didn’t want Preston to know. I couldn’t handle it if he pitied me. He wouldn’t be rude, at least, I didn’t think so after how considerate he’d been all this time, but I couldn’t stand the idea of watching those warm eyes fill with sympathy. I didn’t want his sympathy. His pity. Any of it.

  “Shall we?” I said brightly, and I tried to hold in my blush, the twist in my stomach, as Preston once again held his arm out for me to escort me to the car.

  Preston opened the car door for me and I squashed down the warm feeling I got in my chest. I wasn’t going to miss him when we parted ways. I wasn’t.

  The drive was silent, and a little awkward. I didn’t know what to say or do that wouldn’t lead me to give myself away. Preston seemed to be wrapped up in his own thoughts as well. Was he regretting anything? Now that we were headed back to our real lives and civilization?

  My phone started vibrating wildly, bouncing in my lap as message after message came in. I must’ve gotten cell reception again.

  “Sounds like a bomb about to go off,” Preston noted.

  “I think the bomb already went off,” I replied, waiting until all the messages finished coming through before checking them.

  Anything that didn’t have to do with the wedding I quickly deleted or set aside to look at later. I had several texts from the wedding party, and then a bunch of voicemails.

  The texts told a worrying story.

  “I think you’re going to want to hear these,” I warned Preston, hitting play on the voicemail messages.

  “Uh oh. Your tone’s foreboding.”

  The first messages started playing—they were from Bree and a few others, asking where I was and what was going on with the snowstorm. A couple of them were pretty… well. Bridezilla was a nickname for a reason. Preston winced on my behalf as we listened.

  But then, the messages took on a different tone.

  “Um, hi, Lyric, it’s Bree.” She sounded like she’d been crying. “I’m sorry for all those mean things I said earlier, I just—you wouldn’t believe—there’s really no reason to have the wedding at all so um if you’re up at the mansion like we think you are then really you d-d-don’t have to worry…”

  She started crying again and the message ended.

  The next one started with Bree just, well, shrieking. “I can’t believe that I would ever let that asshole propose me, I can’t believe I would marry him, what the fuck was I thinking!? A stripper, a stripper, really Chad!? Cheating on me with a stripper that is the most fucking cliché thing—that asshole, I’m going to—”

  Th
e voicemail ended.

  “There’s about five more,” I told Preston.

  “Jesus Christ,” Preston muttered. “It sounds like things went to shit while we were gone.”

  I rubbed at my temples. I couldn’t help but feel like if I’d been there, things would’ve gone differently. Don’t be an idiot, I told myself sternly. There’s no way to stop a man from cheating if he wants to cheat.

  “This is kind of my fault,” Preston said, to my surprise. “If I’d been there to keep an eye on Chad… you even asked me to and I promised I would.”

  “You couldn’t have stopped him from cheating, if that’s what he wanted to do.”

  “He was probably just drunk and making a stupid choice. Chad does shit like that.”

  “Making out with a stripper isn’t—I mean—yes it’s stupid but if he was inclined to cheat on his fiancée then all you would’ve done is stop it from happening this particular time.” I sighed, burying my face into my hands. “I’m just glad that they didn’t find all this out after they got married. Can you imagine?”

  I could practically hear Preston wincing. “Yeah. Better that this all came out now before that instead of six months or a year down the line. Not that it would’ve taken long. Chad’s not all that smart or subtle.”

  There were men out there who could spend years fooling their partners, having affairs on the side without anyone knowing. Chad definitely did not strike me as that kind of guy.

  I sat back up and rested my head against the car window, staring out at the snow. It was actually beautiful, now that we were no longer stuck in it and it was no longer the reason why I was up in a stupid mansion in the mountains. “I just wish I’d been there to do damage control.”

  “This isn’t a part of your job,” Preston replied. His hand left the gear shift to cover mine, squeezing gently, reassuringly. “Your job is to plan the wedding and deal with whatever little problems come up along the way. This is for the bride and groom to handle.”

  “Sounds like they weren’t handling it very well.”

  “It’s Chad and Bree, what did you expect?”

  Preston chuckled and put his hand back on the gear shift. I missed it. I missed the warmth, the reassurance, missed his touch. “Look, they’re all adults. They can handle their own messes. Once we get down there you’ll see, all the guests will have already gone home, the parents will have dealt with the issue by yelling at each other and their kids, everything will be off your plate.”

  I sure hoped so. I couldn’t see any reason why the wedding party could blame me for this, but I’d been blamed by clients for a lot of things that weren’t my fault so, who knew? I couldn’t help but feel nervous.

  “All that work,” I sighed, “and no actual wedding even took place.”

  “This is why destination weddings are bullshit,” Preston agreed.

  “Thank God they didn’t actually get married first, can you imagine the legal issues?” I spoke without thinking—and then realized that a wedding had in fact taken place.

  Our wedding.

  Oh my God. With getting snowed in and all the rest I had completely forgotten about that. The whole—unable to fix the wedding business had distracted me. And then Preston had distracted me.

  I looked over at him. “Preston. We’re still legally married.”

  The car swerved slightly as Preston jerked in reaction. “Shit.”

  “I forgot about it too,” I admitted quickly. I didn’t want him to feel that I’d been sitting on this the whole time just waiting for him to say something.

  Preston nodded. “I spoke to one of my associates right after the whole thing happened and asked them to look into it. They weren’t caught in a snow storm so I’ve probably got a fuckton of messages from them on my phone—they’ll have handled it. I’ll petition the court for a hearing and we’ll get the marriage declared invalid by a judge.”

  I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. That didn’t sound so bad. Just declare it invalid, easy-peasy. Preston was a good lawyer, I was sure of that—how could he be anything but? He had worked his ass off in college and his family’s expectations for him had been high.

  “Of course…” Preston paused. “This does mean we’ll have to come back here for the hearing by the judge. But I’ll pay for everything, don’t worry about it.”

  I was uncomfortable with the idea of someone else paying for me, but as I opened my mouth to argue, Preston shook his head.

  “No, I’m not budging on this. I’m a lawyer. I should’ve known better than to sign any paper without looking at it. You had a lot on your mind and I should have paid better attention and I didn’t. This is on me. I’ll fix it.”

  The alpha-male I’ve got this kind of thing would normally grate at me. No way was I going to let some guy just swoop in and rescue me like a damsel in distress.

  But this was… it felt different. It felt like Preston taking an extra weight off my shoulders. Like he was saying you’ve already done so much, let me do this for you. It felt like relief. Like I could actually relax a bit. Someone else would help to share the load. And it felt… nice to be looked after. To have someone caring.

  “Thank you,” I said, my voice coming out quieter than I had planned. “I… I appreciate it. I feel like a dumbass for not paying more attention, I just was so frazzled…”

  “Hey, with these kind of people as clients, who can blame you?” Preston replied. He gave me a warm smile. “Maybe just stay away from the weddings for a little while.”

  “Oh, trust me, I plan to.” I smiled back at him, and found myself wishing that this wasn’t goodbye.

  We got down the mountain into town, to the hotel. I checked with the concierge at the front desk, and sure enough, most of the wedding guests had either been unable to make it because of the snowstorm or had already turned around and left. Bree was already at the airport to go home, and Chad had left yesterday. Looked like there wasn’t really much for me to do besides tie things up with the people we’d hired.

  “My flight leaves this afternoon,” I explained to Preston, who had been patiently waiting for me to finish up with the concierge. “I have to double-check everything with the staff, make sure everything was taken care of properly, before I head to the airport.”

  “I guess this is goodbye, then,” Preston replied. Was I just imagining it, or did he sound a bit regretful?

  I sure was feeling regretful. I didn’t want to say goodbye. I wanted to go back in time a couple of days and not be so stubborn, so that I could have more time enjoying Preston and enjoying his body.

  Not that I could say that. I couldn’t be a sap like that. Preston probably didn’t feel anything, even with all his consideration and care. And I had told him that this was a mistake and I didn’t want anything—and he’d agreed! I couldn’t go back on that now.

  And what if I was just being… blinded by our time alone together? A cabin in the woods (or a mansion, in our case) snowed in was not the real world. We couldn’t possibly work out here.

  Preston held up his phone. “I should really… check my phone. I’m sure I have my own fires to put out with the family.” He smiled and winked at me. “Look after yourself, I’ll be in touch about the trip back here.”

  I nodded. I wanted to hug him, but… I resisted the urge. “Thank you, Preston.”

  “Of course…” He looked like he might say something, but then shook his head slightly. “Lyric.”

  I turned and walked away before I could say anything else, linger, make a fool of myself, my mouth tasting like bittersweet chocolate.

  17

  Preston

  I was back in Boston, back to my usual life… and fuck, I hated it.

  Okay, no, that wasn’t true. I loved my life. I had worked hard for all of this and I felt incredibly rewarded by the place I was now in. My parents had been beyond pleased that I wanted to be a lawyer, I couldn’t deny that having their approval and choosing a job they liked helped, but I really did love my job. I was co
mpetitive and studious, I worked hard and played hard, and being a lawyer fit all of that.

  My apartment? I liked it. My friends? I liked them. My coworkers? Excellent. There was nothing about my life that I didn’t like—except.

  Now that I was here, after Lyric, I felt her absence. Like there was a hole shaped exactly like her in my life.

  I’d had no idea what was missing from my life until now. I’d thought about Lyric a few times over the years, missing her, wondering how she was doing, wondering if I’d made the right choice. But that was nothing compared to how I felt now that I’d seen her again and slept with her, spent time with her.

  My apartment was large, and I’d bought it with that in mind, because I’d known I was buying a place that I wanted to have for years, a place to move my spouse into. But now it was too large. I couldn’t help but look at the closet and wonder about what it would look like with Lyric’s clothes in it.

  Would she make use of the spare room as a home office for her business? Would she want to redecorate things? I wouldn’t mind if she did. I was happy to move things around or repaint the walls—I hadn’t done a lot of decorating myself, too busy at work, and this place, I realized, could really use a homey touch.

  What about all those work parties, those mixers I had to go to all the time? I enjoyed them—I’d always enjoyed making friends and chatting with people—but now I could only feel the weightlessness of my arm. I could only think about how much better it would be if Lyric was on that arm, if she was making remarks under her breath, making me laugh. If I could joke around with her and introduce her to all of my colleagues and clients, how impressed with her they’d all be. She’d dazzle them all with her wit and confidence. I just knew it.

  Coming back home from work to an empty apartment was… harder than I had ever thought it would be. I kept hoping to hear Lyric’s voice. Sleeping in bed without being able to tuck my arms around her and hold her… it was a struggle. We had only spent a couple of days together, but everything that I’d felt only reinforced the lingering ghost of feelings that had hovered at the back of my mind all these years.