day.
Strange to even think those words in my head.
In a few hours, I would have a wife. I’d be a husband. Fake or not, those would be our titles for the foreseeable future.
Though I didn’t dread entering into this agreement with Saoirse, I couldn’t say I’d been looking forward to this day. There was something so inherently wrong with having to do this. But I felt like I’d been left with no choice.
The women Clara had sent me had been so out of line with the type I would be interested in it hadn’t been funny. Just reading their profiles had been unbearable. A lifetime with any of them would have been torture.
And I did view marriage as a lifetime contract, which was why I’d never pursued it. I had never felt ready for that step. The attraction of no commitments and living for moments of passion and excitement was still far too strong to give it up.
Until I’d been forced to.
Saoirse arrived at my condo an hour before our private ceremony was to begin. She stepped out of the elevator, her hand over her eyes.
“If you’re there, don’t look at me, Luca.”
I stared at her. “What are you doing?”
“You’re looking at me, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
She stomped her foot, and I took note of her flip-flops. “It’s bad luck, obviously.”
“If this were real, I would agree, but we both know it’s not.” I eyed her feet again. Her toenails were painted like ballet slippers. “Are you wearing flip-flops for the ceremony?”
She held up her arm, which was draped with a garment bag. “I’m not. But if I were, I would expect you to bite your tongue like a good husband.”
I closed the distance between us, slipping the garment bag from her arm. “That’s the last time I mention anything you’re wearing. Are you going to open your eyes, or do I have to lead you to your bedroom?”
“I’ve been in your place once. Even if my eyes were open, you’d have to lead me.”
I stared at her for a moment, but the hand over her face wasn’t budging. “Are you always this superstitious and stubborn?”
“Won’t it be exciting for you to find out when I’m Mrs. Luca Rossi?”
My breath caught. My stomach clenched with discomfort. Mrs. Luca Rossi. What the fuck was I doing?
Saoirse clutched my arm until we reached the guest bedroom where she’d be getting dressed. Tomorrow, all her things would be moved into the bedroom beside mine upstairs and this illusion would really begin. For today, she was still a guest.
I laid her garment bag on the bed before facing her and grasping both of her elbows.
“You can back out of this. This is your opportunity to tell me to go to hell.”
Instead of instantly agreeing, a smile spread across her delicate, lovely face. “Why would I do that? I’ve already signed a thousand contracts. I also gave you my word, which means something to me. Plus, I’m getting a cat out of this.”
“You could get your own cat, you know.”
Her brows rose above her hand, and I wished like hell she’d just look at me. “Do you want to back out, Luca?”
“We have to do this.”
“We really don’t have to. I’m all in, but I completely understand if you’ve changed your mind. Just say the word and—”
“No. We’re doing this.” I let go of her arm, backing toward the door. “I’ll leave you to get ready. The officiant will be here in an hour.”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. See you soon.”
I closed the door, leaving her alone, and walked upstairs to get dressed for my wedding.
