The Love Wager by Lynn Painter

            She got in line beside Chuck and actually felt a little nervous as the music started. Her detail-oriented sister had selected one of those amazing Ed Sheeran songs that has the power to make anyone cry, but she wasn’t lame enough to just play it on a Bluetooth speaker—oh, no. She had a string quartet playing the music along with the recording, so it genuinely sounded like ol’ Eddie was hiding in the bushes somewhere, crooning his little English head off.

            As they stepped out of the tent to make their way down the aisle, Hallie’s breath caught in her throat as she linked arms with Chuck. The air smelled like autumn leaves, and the white flower petal path stretched out in front of them, leading to an arch that was set in the middle of a stunning copse of aspen trees. To their left was a clear, flowing creek, and to their right, beyond the rows of white chairs and guests, was a tall mountain, towering over them with its stretching pines.

            It was breathtaking.

            “Damn,” Chuck muttered.

            “Damn, indeed,” Hallie said, giggling, but then her giggles died when her eyes landed on Jack’s face.





Jack


            The quartet started playing and he stood, along with the other guests, turning to see the bridal party’s procession. He was impatient, though; he hadn’t seen Hal all day, and he wanted to get the ceremony over with so he could spend more time with her at the reception.

            He was distracted by his thoughts of her as his gaze turned to the creek, memories of the night before playing back in his mind, when he felt her presence.

            The strings were climbing to higher pitches, and the singer was crooning about telling someone he loved them.

            And just as Jack felt the words in the middle of his chest, there she was.

            Hallie was walking down the aisle, dressed in red and carrying a bouquet of white roses, and she was smiling at him. At him.

            Shit.

            He felt like he couldn’t breathe as he looked at her, which wasn’t that different from how he’d felt the night before as they’d shared a bed. As they’d gradually moved closer to each other over the course of the night, under the warmth of the heavy down comforter.

            When he’d woken up at three a.m. and her backside had been snuggled against him, her breathing soft and sweet, he hadn’t moved. He was pretty sure his job, as the man in an only-one-bed trope, was to suffer.

            Well, suffer he had.

            He’d lain there like a chump, wide awake for what felt like hours. The weirdest part was that her body’s closeness had tormented him less than the overall closeness of her, the feeling of Hallie sleeping beside him. Eventually he’d just thrown his arm over her and held her there, like it was normal for them to be sharing a bed.

            Which, coincidentally, was when he’d finally fallen back to sleep.

            “They’re so beautiful,” Jamie said, crying beside him as she smiled at Chuck. Something about the way those two oddballs loved each other made him feel . . . fuck, something he didn’t like. Pathetically envious.

            Because as great as it was to play the game of pretend with Hallie, kissing her and holding her hand like she was his, he couldn’t forget her words, words she’d said with total certainty.

            I am absolutely positive I will never catch feels for you.

            The ceremony was sweet and made him a little softer than weddings usually did, if he was being honest. Hallie got the hiccups during her sister’s vows, and between her tiny squeaks, her whispered sorries, and the resultant laughter from both Hal and the wedding guests, he was pretty sure everyone in attendance fell for her just as hard as he had.





Chapter

TWENTY-FIVE



Hallie


            “My mind is blown,” Chuck said, tossing back one of the shots Hallie had poured for the two of them and set on the table in front of them. “You guys are incredibly convincing.”

            Hallie took her shot, feeling the whiskey burn down her throat. “It’s easy, because we’re best friends and we have sexual chemistry.”

            “So. Um.” Chuck grabbed his water bottle and took a long drink before wiping his mouth and saying, “Tell me again—why aren’t you really dating if you have chemistry and you’re best friends . . . ?”