Small Town Pretender by Brighton Walsh
Nat was sure she wasn’t the first bride to be thinking about what her soon-to-be husband looked like when he came—flushed cheeks, parted lips, thick cock in hand as his eyes pinned her in place—but she wasn’t exactly a typical bride.
From the moment she’d walked in on him, she hadn’t been able to get the sight of him out of her head. Lying there, stomach muscles rippling, arms tight as he stroked himself faster and faster. And then when his eyes had locked on hers and he’d spilled himself across his stomach, she’d nearly come without so much as a flick across her clit.
One thing was for certain—she definitely hadn’t needed any blush today, because her cheeks had been flushed from the moment she’d shut the door with a squeaked apology, and they hadn’t shown signs of letting up anytime soon.
The real question was, what the hell did they do now? Not just after she’d stumbled in on him pleasuring himself—while saying her name, apparently—but there also was that kiss to contend with. They may have been able to plead ignorance prior to that, but now there was absolutely no denying the chemistry that crackled between them.
She wasn’t sure which was worse—being in a marriage with someone she wasn’t attracted to, or being in one with the best friend she absolutely was.
“Is it time to go now?” June asked, barely restrained frustration echoing in her voice.
“Almost, Junebug,” Asher said. “You got on your dress pretty early. We won’t be leavin’ for a bit yet.”
“Actually, that might have changed,” Nat said as a text came in from her mom.
Asher glanced at her, the first time he’d made eye contact for more than a fleeting second since Cockgate, and raised a brow. “As long as it’s not you backin’ out on me, we can figure it out.”
Nat laughed and batted aside his concern. Surprisingly, the thought of not going through with it hadn’t even once entered her mind. But that was something she could unpack later. Right now, they had other things to deal with.
She turned her phone to face him and gestured to it. “My momma’s guilt-trippin’ us into coming over for pictures. What, since we didn’t care enough to invite her to the ceremony and all.”
Asher huffed out a laugh and rubbed a hand across his trimmed beard. “All right. If we’re gonna do that first, we better get a move on. How long till you’re ready?” he asked with a raised brow.
“All I need to do is put my dress on, but she’s ordered me not to do that either, so it doesn’t get wrinkled. So…I guess I’m ready now? How about you? You thinkin’ about maybe cleanin’ up a bit?” she asked, somehow managing to keep a straight face even through her blatant lie.
He looked ridiculously hot in his dark jeans, vest, and a light gray button-down shirt rolled to his elbows, showcasing the toned forearms she hadn’t ever really paid much attention to before. But now, after seeing them flex as he’d pumped his cock mere hours prior, they would most definitely be starring in her nighttime fantasies. He’d left his hair loose like she loved, and she had the strongest urge to run her fingers through it. Gather a fistful just to guide his face close to hers.
“Thought I’d go like this,” he said with a shrug. “Hope it won’t be too much of a burden to say I do to someone who looks like a bum.”
“I’ll force myself to suffer through.”
“I appreciate that. We can leave as soon as Owen wakes up and swing by your parents’ on the way to the courthouse.”
No sooner had the words left Asher’s mouth than the baby monitor crackled with Owen’s happy, sleepy baby murmurs.
“I’ll pack the diaper bag,” she said, having no idea who the hell she’d become that that had become her first instinct.
“Already ahead of you, wifey.” Asher winked and gestured to where the diaper bag sat by the side door.
Nat ignored the way her stomach bottomed out before soaring thanks to the nickname that didn’t actually mean anything. And she absolutely didn’t watch him walk down the hallway toward Owen’s room, or admire the way his jeans hugged his ass, or bite her lip over his confident stride. Did not.
Getting everyone out of the house still wasn’t a speedy affair no matter how many times they’d done it, so it was almost an hour later before they walked into her parents’ house. Her mom wasn’t exactly the kind of woman who’d let her guests show themselves in without a word—her Southern hospitality too ingrained for that—which was why it was so bizarre no one greeted them when they walked in the door.
Nat furrowed her brow, glancing around at the empty house. “Hello?”
“Nat, you’re here!” her momma said, overly loud, a bright smile on her face as she rounded the corner from the back of the house. She strode toward them in a light gray skirt and a sleeveless navy-blue silk blouse, her heels clicking on the hardwoods—the woman didn’t know the meaning of loungewear.
“What’re you all dressed up for?” Nat asked. “You’re not aimin’ for an invite to the courthouse, right? It’s seriously not a big—”
“No, no.” Her mom waved her off. “Nothing like that. I just, um, have a meetin’ later with the historical committee.”
Nat narrowed her eyes. While it wasn’t unusual for her mom to have a meeting of that nature, it was unusual for her to stumble over her words. Something was off here—Nat just wasn’t sure what. Before she could ask what the hell was going on, her mom grabbed June’s hand and spun the little girl around, the skirt flaring out around her.
“I’m so glad Ava’s old dress fit you,” Momma said, grinning down at June. “You look just like a princess!”
“I do?” June asked, awe in her voice as she stared down at herself with wide eyes.
“You most certainly do.”
June glanced back at Nat and Asher, a grin splitting her face. “I’m a princess today!”
“You’re definitely pretty enough to be one,” Asher said while expertly dodging Owen’s flailing arms.
“Why don’t you give me this one?” her momma said, grabbing Owen from Asher’s arms without waiting for the okay. “I’ll take the kids out back so you can get changed, Nat. Asher, would you mind stickin’ around in here in case she needs help? Plus, I’d like to get a shot of you two walkin’ outside, all right?”
Just like yesterday, her momma didn’t wait for a response before striding down the hallway toward the backyard, June’s hand clutched in hers as Owen grinned at them over her shoulder.
“Well, I guess we have our orders,” Nat said with an eye roll. Truthfully, it was a testament to how far she’d come that hearing something like that didn’t immediately send her fleeing in the opposite direction.
Normally, Nat wouldn’t think twice about dragging Asher upstairs and into her room while she changed, making him zip her up without question. But now, with this weighty attraction between them that had never been present before, she knew they stood on shaky ground, and making him watch her change probably wasn’t the smartest idea right before they were supposed to get fake-married.
Knowing they didn’t have much time, she shoved those thoughts out of her mind and stepped toward the main floor bathroom. “I’ll just be a sec,” Nat said, holding the garment bag up so that it didn’t drag on the floor.
Last night, after an emergency call to Will’s best friend, Avery, with a plea to borrow a dress appropriate for a courthouse wedding—“Something nice, but not too nice. Dressy but still kind of funky. It is Nat, after all.”—her sister had dropped it off, and Nat hadn’t even unzipped the bag to peek. It wasn’t like she had much choice in the matter. She hadn’t exactly brought wedding apparel with her to Argentina, and there hadn’t been time to swing by Portland to raid her closet when she’d dropped everything to fly home to Havenbrook. No matter the dress, she’d wear it because she didn’t have any intention of showing up to marry Asher looking like a bum while he looked like he stepped out of the pages of GQ.
She hung the dress on the hook at the back of the door before unzipping the garment bag and spreading it wide. Her breath caught as she took it in. The dress was long and flowy, a mix of pale pink, lavender, and teal all woven together to look like unicorn cotton candy. The front plunged low—thank God her breasts were small enough that she wouldn’t need a bra, because there was no way she could wear one with this—the dress held up by tiny straps topped with draped cap sleeves.
Nat undressed, stripping down until she wore only a pair of pale-pink lace panties, all too aware that Asher was just on the other side of the door. She slipped the dress over her head, the soft fabric gliding over her body as if it were tailor-made for her. She zipped it as much as she could before accepting she wouldn’t be able to finish the job by herself.
She opened the door a crack, and Asher’s head snapped up from where he stood, braced against the wall opposite her.
“You need help?” His voice was low as his gaze dropped, though she knew he couldn’t see anything since she stood just behind the door.
“Yeah, do you mind?” she asked, no idea why she sounded so damn breathy.
She opened the door the rest of the way and turned her back to him, holding in a shiver at the change in temperature when he stepped close. His fingers grazed a path up her spine as he secured the dress on her, and her nipples peaked at the featherlight touch.
Holding her breath, she watched him in the mirror, his chin tucked to his chest, eyes downcast as he kept his focus on his task at hand. When he’d fastened the zipper all the way, he lifted his gaze to meet hers in the mirror, that newly present electricity arcing between them.
After several silent beats, he finally said, “You’re gorgeous.”
And she couldn’t speak.
Couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t do anything but stay snared in his gaze as he looked at her like she was everything. Like he wished he’d been taking this dress off her instead of putting it on. Like he wanted a replay of this morning, but without the interruption, just to see how far things would go. Like he wanted to kiss her again as a lead-up to a hell of a lot more.
She swallowed and tore her eyes away. “I bet you say that to all your almost-wives right before you’re about to get fake-married.”
He laughed, a low, throaty sound, his breath gusting across her bare shoulders. “You caught me.”
“Knew it.”
“I know you were kiddin’, but I need you to know I wouldn’t be doin’ this with anyone but you, Nat.” His eyes bored into hers, and she read every ounce of sincerity he’d intended in the look.
Licking her lips, she nodded. “I know. Same goes.”
His mouth ticked up at the side. “You ready?”
She took a deep breath, pressing her hand to her stomach that had, for some ungodly reason, become infested with butterflies, and nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”
He stepped back and offered her his hand, smiling when she interlocked their fingers. With how long they’d been friends, she’d been on the receiving end of his smiles thousands of times, which meant there was no reason for her stomach to flip like it was. It was probably nerves. This was a big day—real or not—made all the more so thanks to her mom’s insistence on their showing up there first.
“I shouldn’t be surprised my momma wanted us to take pictures, but I’m gonna feel like an idiot out there smilin’ when we both know this isn’t…” Her words trailed off as they stepped outside, her brain not quite comprehending what she was seeing.
“What the fuck,” Asher breathed just loud enough for her to hear.
Well, that was good. At least now she knew she wasn’t having some sort of psychotic break where she imagined an intimate wedding wonderland in her parents’ already immaculate backyard. A backyard that, just yesterday, had been totally and completely normal.
Now, though, it’d been transformed into something out of the pages of a magazine. Strings of bulbed white lights hung across the pergola above the deck, as well as throughout the plethora of trees on the property as far back as she could see—hundreds…maybe thousands of them.
Will and Finn, Mac and Hudson, Nash, her nieces, as well as her parents and Gran, sat in the scattered white folding chairs.
“Where’s Rory?” she asked Asher, because, yeah, that was what really mattered right now.
“Right here,” her sister said from Nat’s left and thrust a bouquet of wild flowers into her hand. “Just go with it. There wasn’t any way we were talkin’ Momma out of it.”
“Out of what?”
“All of it.”
“I—” Nat shook her head. “How did you pull this together?” she asked in awe, but she had no idea why she’d even posed the question. Of course, they’d pulled it together—she was dealing with Mac, the mayor, Will, Havenbrook’s event coordinator, and Rory, an interior designer.
June stood next to Nat’s momma, who held Owen, a grin splitting the little girl’s face as she waved to Nat and Asher. “I did the flowers, Uncle Asher! All by myself!” She jumped and pointed to the petal-strewn path that led to an ivy-covered arch where Edna, Gran’s best friend and Havenbrook’s mail carrier and general troublemaker, stood, a grin across her mouth.
“What the hell is Edna doin’ standin’ there like she’s a minister? Are we dreamin’?” she whispered, squeezing Asher’s hand, if for nothing else than to ground herself.
“Feels like we might be.”
“Well, don’t just stand here,” Rory said, giving Nat a little push. “Get a move on.”
“Wait,” Nat said, shaking her head. “Get a move on for what?”
“Now, don’t be mad, sweetheart,” her momma said. “After all this time with y’all as best friends, we just didn’t think it was right that you were gonna go and have a quick wedding at the courthouse without any of your family there.”
Guilt punctured Nat’s stomach, and she slid a glance to Asher out of the corner of her eye, his look mirroring hers.
“Oh, don’t look at him like that,” Momma said. “We just wanted to do something nice for y’all.”
“But…” Nat stalled, trying to come up with a plausible reason they couldn’t have their very fake marriage come from this very real wedding. “We have an appointment at the courthouse.”
“I took care of that,” Mac said, waving a hand through the air.
Nat breathed out a laugh. Of course she did. So, she’d kill her sister later, then. “Um, okay, well, we also don’t have anyone here to marry us.”
“I beg your pardon,” Edna said with a sniff. “I got myself ordained on the interwebs last year. Now, if you don’t mind, kids, I’d like to get this show on the road. I was promised there’d be food and booze as payment.”
“The fewer questions, the better,” Rory said as she strolled toward the empty seat next to Nash, who glanced back at them with raised eyebrows and a slight shrug as if to say, might as well go with it.
“What do you say?” Asher squeezed her hand and met her gaze. “You ready to get married?”