He looked around. “What if someone else needs to come in?”

  There were three stalls. “They can wait. I'm the bride, so nobody will mind if we make out in here. Are you okay?” I turned to face him, reaching for his other hand.

  He was quiet for a beat before dipping his chin in a nod. “I’m fine.”

  “I don't like your great-uncle,” I said flatly.

  “Join the club. He's a fucking asshole.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” His hands were starting to warm in mine finally.

  “I promise I’m okay.”

  “When should we go?”

  “Now,” he said, his lips curling up at one corner before stretching into a slow smile.

  He stepped closer and bent low to press a hot kiss on the side of my neck, just beneath my ear. Goosebumps broke out over my skin, and I shivered against him.

  “Let's go. I don't actually want to make out in the bathroom,” I said, just as there was a loud knock on the door.

  I felt the rush of his breath on my skin when he chuckled and dropped another hot kiss there. “Come on.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Archer

  When we stepped outside, the air was icy, the cold striking against my cheeks. My body's thermostat was all out of whack. It always was on the heels of a panic attack or, in this case, an almost panic attack.

  I tended to get cold first, and then once I started to warm, I got too hot. I took several deep gulps of the air, savoring its crispness and the scent of snow.

  “It smells like it might snow,” Phoebe offered as she walked beside me as if she could read my mind.

  “It does. I love that smell.”

  She smiled up at me, the lights in the parking lot glittering on her hair. “Really?”

  I squeezed her hand. “Yeah. It reminds me of Alaska and my childhood. It's hard to describe unless you know what it smells like.”

  She squeezed my hand again just as we reached my SUV. I'd been so out of it after seeing Clint that I forgot to use the remote start. “It'll take a minute to warm up.” I opened the passenger door for her to climb in.

  “We can handle it,” she replied.

  “Yeah, but you don't have a jacket.”

  She rolled her eyes. Moments later, we were driving away from the reception, and a delayed jolt of anger sliced through me. I couldn't fucking believe my uncle had shown up. But then I should have known. It was just the kind of thing he would do.

  “Don't let him ruin it.” Phoebe's voice reached me, and I slid my gaze sideways.

  She was a mind reader, but I wasn't about to tell her that. “I'm not.”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  The moment she asked that question, my mind conjured up the vision I’d been thinking about for fucking weeks now—Phoebe with her legs wrapped around my waist, sitting astride me. Because that's what I wanted. “You.”

  Her breath drew in sharply, her eyes widening slightly before she let out a startled laugh, the sound husky.

  “Just being honest,” I added with a shrug.

  If anyone could make me forget, it was Phoebe. Because forgetting everything with her was the most real thing I could do.

  The drive home wasn't too long. I pulled into the garage, and Phoebe said, “Home sweet home.”

  I tapped the button to turn off the engine before glancing her way. “It is home.”

  She blinked, her eyes glistening in the dim light.

  “I'm so glad you're here,” she whispered.

  “You have no idea how glad I am that you're here.”

  I leaned over, palming her cheek as I brought my lips to hers. I meant for it to be a brief kiss. But the need I’d been barely holding in check kicked down the door, leaving my control in shambles. In a matter of seconds, our tongues were tangling, and I was devouring her mouth. She gasped into our kiss. It was only when I started to tug her across the console and my elbow hit the horn that we broke apart.

  Her eyes went wide, and she burst out laughing. “You know, we're home. There's a bed inside and everything.”

  We were out of the SUV and through the door into the house in record time. I caught her hand in mine, reeling her to me, and was just about to fit my mouth over hers when she placed her palm on my chest. My heart kick-started into a fierce beat, recognizing her touch, knowing what she meant. This woman, my friend, who I'd never stopped loving. This was a new love for us, but the foundation underneath was unshakeable.

  She stared up at me for a minute. “I know this started weird, but I love you.”

  My chest suddenly felt tight as emotion clenched around my heart. “It did, but it's for all the right reasons now. I love you,” I whispered gruffly.

  With her palm still pressed over my heart, it beat against her touch. She leaned up, pressing a kiss on the edge of my jaw. Then I was sliding my hand through her hair, and we were kissing again, stumbling through the entryway. We yanked at each other's clothes as we made our way to the bedroom, leaving a trail. The only time my uncle punctured my thoughts was when I remembered with relief that the house had a security system that automatically locked. Because he was just the man to try to show up here.

  I kicked those thoughts away as Phoebe rolled her shoulders against the wall in the hallway, breaking away from my mouth. She gulped in air and giggled. “Oh, my god.”

  My hands rested on the wall beside her shoulders, caging her between my arms. Phoebe's laughter faded as we stared at each other. I lifted a hand, reaching up to smooth loose locks of hair away from her cheeks. “Who did your hair?” I asked.

  “Madison. Didn’t she do a good job?”

  I nodded. “It’s beautiful. I want to take it down, but I’m not sure how.”

  Phoebe started giggling again. My shirt was open, and she was down to her bare breasts, which brushed against my skin with her laughter. “I’m not sure either.”

  She reached up, carefully running her fingers over the twist. A moment later, she had pulled out some pins, and they pinged on the floor as her hair fell around her shoulders.

  My breath was hard to pull into my lungs, and my heart was giving sharp kicks against my ribs. “Fuck, you're gorgeous.”

  Pink crested on her cheeks, and she bit the corner of her lip. “Okay,” she replied.

  That shook a laugh loose. “Okay?”

  Her lashes swept down before lifting again. “I'm not used to thinking of myself as gorgeous.”

  “You are, so accept the compliment.”

  When she took a deep breath, I felt her pebbled nipples and couldn't resist stepping back just enough so I could lean down. I sucked one into my mouth, and she let out a sharp gasp. And then I forgot everything else again as I mapped her body with my lips, teeth, and tongue.

  We managed to stumble into the bedroom. The rest of our clothes were tossed on the floor, and I was pulling her over me as I sat on the foot of the bed. She stared at me, her eyes level with mine.

  “Are we really doing this?” she rasped.

  “Oh, we're doing this. We're already married.”

  Her smile was a little shy, and my heart thudded. “We are, huh? That's kind of crazy.”

  I shifted back on the bed, bringing her with me. It was messy, and she lost her balance, falling to the side at one point. I finally made it to the headboard, leaning against the pillows, and she shimmied upward. I felt the slick slide of her cleft over the underside of my cock and gritted my teeth.

  She took a shaky breath and lifted her chin. “I thought it was silly that you wanted to wait. Maybe it was, but now it's a thing, and I’m anxious.” Her lips twisted to the side, and uncertainty flickered in her eyes.

  “It’s only you and me.” I lifted a hand, sliding it through her hair before it came to rest on the side of her neck. I gripped her hip with the other. “Come on now,” I coaxed.

  She rose, reaching between us. My cock notched at her entrance. We held still for a beat, and then she shifted, sliding down over me and bringing me into the silky glide of her core.

  She was tight and so wet, I let out a ragged growl. She seated herself fully, wiggling her hips.

  “Phoebe.” Her name came out almost slurred. Dots danced around the edges of my vision as I stared at her. My gaze narrowed to her eyes.

  She whispered my name before rising and sinking down again. Then we were rocking into each other in a slow rhythm. Each surge into her was deeper than the last. My release was already right there at the edge. I couldn't make this slow even though I wanted to. I was relieved that I could already feel her climax building. She was clenching and rippling around me, and her breath was coming in staccato gasps. Her body tightened before she arched deeply and released a keening cry, followed by my name.

  I let go in deep, shuddering waves as my release slammed through me. She fell against me, warm and soft. I held her as I smiled, a sense of riotous joy thrumming through me.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Phoebe

  My eyes flew open in the darkness. I was still startled at awakening with Archer, my very own personal furnace, beside me. I smiled to myself. Last night had been so much more than I expected. It was only sex, but sex with Archer was something special. I got hot just thinking about it here in the darkness.

  I cataloged the sensations in my body. I was a little sore. We’d ended up exploring each other more than once last night. Archer was never rough, but he also took me right to the edge, heightening every sensation. I took a deep breath, letting it out again, relaxation settling inside me. In spite of all of it, how this started almost as a lark when he proposed, none of that was what it was anymore. The fake was truly fake, and the real was truly real.

  Archer rolled over on his back, murmuring something. He did that sometimes at night. We'd only been sleeping together for a week or so, yet I noticed he could be restless at night.

  “Jake, no…” he muttered before lapsing into an almost sob.

  Jake? He’d mentioned Jake’s name three times now in his sleep. What was that about?

  My mind spun to that awkward interaction with his great-uncle. An unsettled feeling rattled me again, interfering with my peace. Something about the look in his great-uncle’s eyes I didn't like. It scared me and made me feel a little sick. It was the feeling I remembered way back in elementary school when we'd had the talk about safety, and I'd gone home and told my mom about it. She’d called it the uh-oh feeling and told me to trust it. I didn’t trust that man, and I knew Archer didn't either. I wanted to understand why he had such an effect on Archer.

  Archer made another sound, and I rolled over, curling against his side and placing my hand over his heart to discover it was racing. I moved my palm in a soothing circle. A moment later, he took a deep breath in his sleep, and I felt him come awake.

  “Phoebe?” His voice was low and soft.

  “Right here.” I pressed a kiss on his collarbone, snuggling a little closer.

  He shifted, his arm sliding around my shoulders. “Oh good, you're here.”

  “Where else would I be?” I asked lightly.

  “I don't know. When I'm asleep, sometimes I get confused.”

  I almost commented about him talking in his sleep but decided against it. The long hours during darkness could be strange. Worry could chase its tail, and fears could loom larger than they actually were in the daylight hours.

  “Nighttime is weird,” I murmured, pressing another kiss on him, this time on his neck.

  His hand was warm as it curled around my shoulder and slid down my upper arm in a soothing pass. “I’m glad you're here.”

  “We're married,” I pointed out.

  He chuckled. “I know.”

  We fell quiet. With my hand circling lightly on his chest, his breathing evened out as he fell back asleep. I wondered just what secrets my brand-new husband and oldest friend held in his heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Phoebe

  Archer turned off the water and handed me a towel. I almost dropped it. My body was languid, almost limp. We’d showered, and he’d fucked me up against the wall. It was glorious.

  “Well, that’s a way to start the morning,” I managed dryly.

  He chuckled and caught the towel just as it was about to slip free of my grip. He dried off, and I looked over at him, thinking if I wanted, I might be able to look at him for the rest of my life. A naked Archer was almost too much for the eyes—muscled and lean with that dusting of hair over his chest.

  I admired the flex of his back muscles when he turned to hang up the towel and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. That was disappointing, as they covered up his ass. I never thought I'd have a thing for a guy’s ass, but wow, Archer’s was awesome. I could probably bounce a dime off it if I wanted. I used to think that was a ridiculous idea, but with his, well…

  “Are you getting dressed?” he asked as he reached for his T-shirt and pulled it over his head.

  I hadn't even dried off. I was dripping on the bathmat. “Yes.”

  “I'll start the coffee,” he called over his shoulder as he walked out of the bedroom.

  After I dried off and pulled on my own pair of comfy leggings and a fluffy sweater, I stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was darker when it was wet. I rubbed the towel over it and ran a brush through it before fluffing it a little. My skin was flushed from the heat of the shower and Archer having his way with me.

  God, this was weird. We were married. It was really real now. I was about to go have coffee with my new husband and step into a life I had never imagined having.

  Bemused, I turned and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. The scent of coffee reached me, and I smiled when I saw Archer. He was standing by the stove, looking at something on his phone while he had his hand curled around a whisk in a stainless steel bowl beside a carton of eggs.

  “What are you making?” I asked.

  He glanced over. “I was going to make omelets, but I'm not sure I can pull it off.”

  “Omelets?”

  “You love omelets,” he said.

  I stopped beside him, resting my hands on the counter and looking at his phone. He had pulled up some cooking website with a recipe for omelets. “Have we talked about omelets recently?”

  He smiled sheepishly. “No, but you used to love the ones my mom made.”

  I thought my heart might fly straight out of my chest into the sky. “Wow, I forgot that.”

  His mom used to make omelets for us and make shapes with melted cheese on the top of them. I had loved them, but it’d been years since those memories filled my mind.

  “We can just do scrambled eggs,” I offered, aware Archer didn’t cook too much.

  “But I wanted to make them for you. It's our wedding morning breakfast.”

  “I think it's the day after,” I teased, trying to keep light inside while emotion was swamping me.

  He smiled, and I leaned up and brushed a kiss across his lips. “Scrambled eggs. I just want to have some coffee and relax. What are we doing? We haven't even discussed our honeymoon.”

  “You said you didn't want to talk about a honeymoon,” Archer reminded me. “Let's go on a honeymoon.”

  “You’re right. I didn't want to talk about it. We haven't had much time to plan. Plus, it's winter.”

  He smiled down at me. “I'm about to start making calls and whisk you away.”

  “The best time to leave Alaska isn't the middle of the winter. It's mud season. Don't you remember?”

  Archer’s eyes went wide before he chuckled. “You're right. It’s a mess when the snow’s melting.”

  “I'm off work for two weeks. Let's enjoy the house, and we'll plan a trip during mud season.”

  “Are you sure?” he pressed.

  “I'm positive. Unless it's going to send the wrong message to your family about whether our marriage is real.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, our marriage is real.” Archer set his phone on the counter and looped his arms around my waist.

  “I know it's real, but your great-uncle's kind of an asshole, and he makes me nervous.”

  “Don't worry about him.”

  “But—”

  Archer cut me off with a firm kiss. “Stop thinking about it. We’re one-hundred-percent married, and it's consummated.” He waggled his eyebrows at that.

  I laughed as my cheeks got hot. “Let me help you with the eggs.”

  We made scrambled eggs with some feta and red peppers. I discovered that Archer’s assistant worked magic. I had no idea how he pulled it off from a distance, but we were stocked up all the time.

  “Is this how you normally live?” I asked as we were putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, does somebody order all your groceries and do all that all the time.”

  He shook his head. “No, just in a pinch. This was a pinch, sweetheart. I got my parents’ house renovated, furnished, stocked, and we got married inside of two months. It was a pinch.”

  He crossed over to the coffee pot, refilling his mug and calling over, “Need a refill?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He fetched my empty mug where it sat on the table and filled it before returning it to me. He leaned his hips against the island counter across from where I was standing by the sink.

  “What now?” I asked. A giddy sense of joy was humming inside me.

  “We embark on married life,” he said with a slow smile.

  “What are we going to do for the next two weeks?”

  “Hang out. We never had trouble finding things to do when we were kids.”

  “Yeah, but we're not kids anymore.”

  “Let's go cross-country skiing.”

  “Oh!” I clapped my hands together. “That is perfect, but I don't have my skis.”

  “Yes, you do,” he replied with a wink. “I called your parents. They told me you store them in their garage.”

  “And your assistant arranged to have them picked up?” I asked incredulously.