Accidentally Married to Brother's Best Friend

by Sofia T Summers

  In fact, it was hard to get anything fucking accomplished. My coworkers were noticing that I lacked my usual energy—a few of them commented on it to me, and I brushed it off with a smile and an explanation about family drama. They seemed to buy it, but fuck. It was only a matter of time until they figured out it was something more personal than that.

  Our marriage kept mocking me. I knew I had to get to work to have it annulled, declared invalid, but I didn’t want to work on it. This was my last tie to Lyric and it was stupid but it also felt like my last chance to have anything with her. I could’ve had this accomplished the moment I got home, everything booked and ready, but instead it had been two weeks and I was still dragging my feet.

  I got into work, determinedly ignoring that damning file once again, and set about dealing with my clients. They were the ones paying the bills, I reasoned. I should handle them before my own personal business.

  Yeah, it was an excuse, and a pretty poor one at that.

  My cell rang and I pulled it out of my pocket. Chad, of all people. This ought to be good.

  Nobody had heard anything from my damn cousin since he’d had a terrific fight with Bree in the lobby of the hotel. According to witnesses it had started upstairs, but then migrated downstairs, as Chad had tried to escape and Bree had followed him.

  Frankly I couldn’t blame Bree for her anger. I sure wouldn’t have had a public screaming match since I wanted to keep my private business, well, private, but she’d just found out the man she was supposed to marry had cheated on her. Anybody would be pissed.

  Katrina, my sister, had been more than happy to fill me in on the details. She wasn’t in the wedding party, so she’d arrived just before the snow storm got bad enough that all incoming flights were delayed. I’d already been up in the mountains, though. Supposedly there was a video or two of the fight, but I had no interest in looking at that. What a fucking mess.

  After the whole blow up, Chad had gone back up to his hotel room to get his things, Bree had collapsed sobbing and had to be taken away by her bridal party, and everyone else had gone about cancelling the wedding since nobody could find or get a hold of the planner to cancel things for them.

  I’d spoken with my aunt and uncle about that, actually. I’d explained the situation and how it wasn’t Lyric’s fault, and they’d calmed down and agreed. Thank fuck. I hadn’t wanted to cause a big family fight over this stupid wedding when it had already caused so much drama but if they’d been determined to take their anger out at Lyric, I would’ve started sending heads rolling.

  Anyway.

  By the time everyone had sorted out the cancellation process, contacted guests, and all the rest—Chad was gone. I guess everyone had sort of assumed he was just holing up in his room, or at some local bar or other drowning his troubles. It hadn’t occurred to anyone that he might actually split.

  Phone calls and texts to him went unanswered. God only knew what his parents were thinking.

  And now, Chad was calling me.

  I answered. “You’ve got some explaining to do,” I told him.

  “Eeeyyy, Prissy, don’t get your thong in a twist, okay?” I could hear Chad’s tipsy, lazy grin through the phone and I grit my teeth.

  “Where are you?”

  “Whistler, man! For the skiing! Way better than Vail, don’t know why we even fucking chose Vail.”

  I could feel a headache coming on and I rubbed at my temples. Chad loved Vail. He was just saying that to be ornery, to distance himself from the wedding. “Chad, your parents need to talk to you. The whole family needs to talk to you.”

  “No way. I’m not coming back. They’ll just try to talk me into marrying her.”

  “You realize those credit cards you’re racking up debt on are owned by your parents, right? They could cut you off.”

  “Eh, it’s fine. You just gotta talk to them, okay? You’re good at talking to people. Explaining things. It’s why you’re a lawyer.”

  Just treat him like a client, I told myself, sitting down in my desk chair and casually imagining strangling Chad. “What am I supposed to explain to them?”

  “That I’m just not ready to get married! This whole thing was a stupid idea!”

  “Chad.” I tried to keep my tone calm and consoling. “If you thought it was such a bad idea, then why did you go along with it for so long? You could have said no at any point. You’re the one who proposed.”

  “Look, I don’t even know what I was thinking when I proposed, man, I felt such pressure! I knew my parents wanted it, and Bree wanted it, and I thought okay fine, I’ll propose and we’ll be engaged and then they’ll all get off my back and we’ll… have a long engagement I guess? But then they all wanted to start planning the wedding right away!”

  “You could’ve said no.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I guess. But you should’ve seen the wedding planner, man. Hot as fuck.”

  Something dark and angry, like a dragon woken from sleep, sat up in my stomach, smoke curling out of its nostrils.

  “She was sex on legs and her curves? Those breasts? I could stare at them all day. I think that’s why I went along with it, so long as we were planning the wedding, y’know, I could keep seeing her. I should’ve tried to hook up with her instead of the stripper.”

  I literally saw red, my hand clutching my phone so tightly I realized I was in danger of making it crack. How fucking dare he talk about Lyric that way? I’d never approved of how Chad talked about women, and I’d spoken to him about it a few times, but this—this was pure rage. I’d never felt like this before when Chad objectified women. I’d been annoyed and disapproving but not rageful.

  And I wasn’t an idiot. I knew why I felt this way. It was because of Lyric.

  “Anyway, man, I’m sorry you missed the bachelor party. It was fucking lit. I think even you would’ve had a good time even with that stick up your ass.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Chad. You need to come home and fix this mess. I can’t clean it up for you.”

  “Aww man, c’mon! I’ll make it all up to you at my next wedding.”

  “I think I’ve had my fill of weddings,” I replied.

  Chad just laughed. “Have it your way, bro. Just explain it to my parents, okay? I’ll come home… eventually.”

  He hung up.

  I put the phone down and sighed, staring up at the ceiling. Chad wasn’t all that much younger than I was, but he had half the brain cells. Was I ever that full of shit?

  Apparently I was, or at least, that’s how Lyric had seen me. And I hadn’t even gotten to make it up to her as much as I would’ve liked. If only we’d had more time at the mansion…

  I sighed and looked over at the file sitting on my desk. I couldn’t put this off any longer. I had to take care of this—otherwise Lyric would start to wonder, and we’d probably lose our window of opportunity for convincing a judge that our marriage was invalid.

  I couldn’t do that to Lyric. Even if I was reluctant about this… she wasn’t. I had to respect her wishes.

  Of course… just because we were getting this marriage declared invalid didn’t mean we couldn’t try… getting to know each other. It didn’t mean that we couldn’t maybe see if that spark between us, that connection, in the mansion was just the circumstances or something more.

  Calling all that I was feeling ‘invalid’ made me a little sick inside, but the fact was, even if we started dating now it wouldn’t be good for us to be married. For one thing my family would lose their shit over the lack of a prenuptial agreement—I had a lot of money from my family and the law practice and Lyric could walk away with quite a lot of it if she wanted.

  Not that she would, but my parents wouldn’t see it that way. Ugh.

  Anyhow. For another thing, why put that expectation on us? We were together but who knew where the relationship would go, to keep us married would just complicate things. It would be smart to annul the marriage, then date and see how it went, and then when the time came, if we wanted to�
�� and then it would be a real, proper marriage and wedding. Lyric would get the proposal, the wedding, all the rest that she deserved instead of some insane accidental mishap.

  I grabbed my office phone and started setting things up. We needed an appointment with the judge—and hotel rooms. I could book us a honeymoon suite and then claim it was an accident, that the hotel had upgraded us without my knowledge. Some more personal time together would hopefully give me a chance to convince Lyric that we could be something.

  She was haunting me, the memory of her laugh, her smile, her skin—all of it. She’d haunted me before and it was even worse now. I wasn’t about to let that go. I knew, if I was just given the chance—I could show her that we could be something amazing together.

  18

  Lyric

  I was nervous about my trip back to Colorado. Everything had gone wrong last time, and now… what if something went even worse? The earth could have literally swallowed me up and I wouldn’t have been surprised.

  At least the family hadn’t blamed me for the lack of a wedding. Apparently, after the huge fight Chad and Bree had, there’d been a bit of a rush to cancel everything for the wedding, and being unable to get a hold of me had upset everyone. But by the time I dealt with them, they’d all realized it wasn’t my fault.

  Two weeks wasn’t a long time, but it still felt like an age. I hated how much I missed Preston. I found myself looking for his warmth and steadiness when I was upset. I wanted him to offer me his arm again, to hold me at night. He’d looked after me in a way that nobody else ever had, just quietly stepping in to handle it all without my asking—and yet he had never once disrespected me or acted like I was incapable of handling myself. He’d just… made sure I was okay.

  Being back at Amherst felt lonely. Tenor knew something was up but he knew enough about me not to ask. If I wanted to tell him, I’d tell him—and I really didn’t want to tell him. It would only upset him and why do that when nothing more could happen between Preston and me?

  I tried to focus back in on work—and that did help, somewhat. But then I’d just come home to an empty bed and I’d feel that stab of loneliness all over again.

  Before Vail, I’d been wrapped up in work and making my business thrive. I hadn’t really taken stock of my personal life. But now I was realizing that I had none. Friends? Not really. Hobbies? No.

  I was lonely. And right now, the person that I wanted to fill that void in my life… or at least start to fill it… was Preston.

  When he called me to explain the trip back to Vail and to get my email so that he could send me my plane tickets and information, my stomach exploded with butterflies. This was going to be a mess. Or at least, I would be a mess. I felt like I was a teenager all over again, giddy, smiling helplessly. I would have to be stern and control myself. I wanted him, but Preston didn’t want me.

  Did he?

  I didn’t tell Tenor or Mom where I was going, or even that I’d be out of town. No reason to worry them or explain this entire fiasco. I was an adult, I could go and do things without checking in with them.

  The day of the flight I was incredibly nervous. I wanted to throw up. Preston had booked me a first-class ticket even though I’d told him I was perfectly fine with coach—he’d replied that it was the least he could do—and apparently, in first class, they served champagne.

  Perfect.

  The lovely hostess offered me a glass and I seized the opportunity to ease my nerves. I wanted to be confident in front of Preston. Before, when I’d hated him, I’d had no problem acting professional and stern. Now that I was missing him and starting to like him again there was no way I could control myself.

  After the first glass didn’t really do enough to settle me, I had a second. Then a third. That was when I started to realize that I’d let myself get a little tipsy.

  Oops.

  Well, now I had plenty of liquid courage. My nerves weren’t as loud anymore. I could be confident around Preston. I could be assured. He would have no idea that I was in danger of pining after him again. My pride and sanity would remain secure.

  The flight was a nice one, the chair relaxing, the hostess polite. It wasn’t long before we were touching down in Vail. There was still snow everywhere but it was no longer looking like we might get buried in it. Good. I had no intention of getting stuck in another snowstorm. Even if the idea of being stuck in a room with Preston again was appealing.

  I took a cab to the hotel, where Preston was sitting in a chair in the lobby. He jumped up when I entered, crossing over to me. “Hey.” Fuck, he was still so handsome. “How was your flight?”

  “Lovely, honestly. You really didn’t have to book me in first class.”

  “Of course I did,” Preston replied, as if the idea of doing anything else was appalling—not because he was a snob, but because… “It’s my fault you have to come out here, remember? It’s my job to take care of you and I’m happy to do it.”

  …because he wanted to take care of me.

  I wanted him to be there to help me always, but I didn’t say that. I bit my tongue hard instead. With all this champagne in me, who knew what I’d say?

  “Are we checked in?” I asked instead.

  Preston pulled a face. “Ah. Yes, we are, but—about that. I booked us adjoining rooms but I asked for them for Mr. and Mrs. Clark. I thought it would ensure that our rooms were in fact adjoining. But the hotel needed extra rooms for some ski thing or other, so they upgraded us to the honeymoon suite.” Preston smiled sheepishly. “I guess we’re stuck together.”

  I laughed. Something about that didn’t quite square up, but I was a bit too buzzed to care or to think over it too hard.

  Besides… this could be the opportunity I had been secretly wanting, craving, fantasizing about. The chance to really take advantage of being around Preston again and get deliciously fucked by him, over and over. I hadn’t really gotten to scratch that itch when we were stuck together—we’d only just touched the surface and then it was all over. I wanted him inside of me again, I wanted his mouth and hands on me… I wanted him.

  Maybe now that we were sharing a room, I could have that.

  I smiled at Preston. “It’s okay, really, I don’t mind.”

  “You don’t,” Preston echoed, looking relieved. “That’s… good.”

  He offered me his arm, just like before, and I took it. It felt so natural to take it. To let him guide me and keep me tucked against his side. “I’ll get your luggage.”

  “Oh, no, I can…”

  “No really, please, let me.” Preston picked up my suitcase before I could protest further.

  Well, it was just my one small carry-on, since we were only going to be here for a day or two. I supposed there was no harm in letting him be a gentleman if that was what he wanted.

  The hotel we were staying at was one of the nicer ones in Vail—and that was saying something, because all the hotels in Vail were nice. It was an upper-class skiing town, after all. We took the elevator up to one of the top floors, and Preston let us into our room.

  My jaw nearly dropped.

  A beautiful candlelit dinner was waiting for us, with a table set up, and food on warming trays next to it. Some white rose petals had been tastefully scattered around the bed—not so many we’d have to shove them out of the way to sleep or have sex, but enough to add to the ambiance. A few chocolates and a card from the front desk sat on the pillows. Soft music played from the speakers, something with violins.

  Holy crap. You’d think that we really were on our honeymoon or something with all of this done for us.

  “I asked for room service to be sent up,” Preston explained. “I figured you’d be hungry after your flight and I didn’t really feel like going out to a restaurant. I… guess the staff made some assumptions.”

  Honestly, I didn’t mind. Maybe I would have under other circumstances since we weren’t really married. But this dinner smelled delicious, and now we could have privacy and just be the two
of us—and who would turn down chocolate?

  Without realizing it, the hotel staff had just offered my fantasy up to me on a platter. And I planned to take full advantage. I was going to take what I wanted tonight, and what I wanted was Preston.

  Preston walked over and set my luggage down, then pulled out a chair at the table for me. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I ordered a bit of everything.”

  I laughed and sat down, letting him push my chair in. “I love it.”

  Preston pulled off the covers of the food and we dug in. There really was a bit of everything—delicious prime steak, mashed potatoes, pasta, salad, pizza. I felt like the kid in Home Alone 2, just ordering everything and having fun with it.

  We sat down and just dug in. “Anything interesting at the firm?” I asked, struggling for a topic to discuss.

  Preston snorts. “You really don’t want to hear about my cases.”

  “No, I do.” I really was interested. Not because I was particularly into law or anything but because it was Preston’s work. And I wanted to know about Preston’s life.

  Preston looked at me in surprise, the determination clear in my voice. “Sure.” He launched into an explanation about a frustrating client he was having, which led to him explaining to me how legal offices worked, such as the difference between lawyers and legal secretaries and paralegals—and that led to him regaling me with stories of office gossip.

  “It’s not like television,” Preston said. “Our court cases are interesting but not the kind of interesting that would make good television, and there’s way less sex.”

  I snorted in amusement, rolling my eyes.

  “What?” Preston asked.

  I poured myself some of the white wine that had been brought up with our food. “Preston, I bet you anything that there would be more sex, if you paid attention. I’m betting you right now that half of your legal secretaries want to sleep with you.”

  Now Preston was the one to roll his eyes. “Whether they want to sleep with me or not doesn’t matter if I don’t want to sleep with them.”