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When the hell did he get here? And what the hell business does he have looking like that in his navy blue suit and crisp white shirt?

Fuck, that bow tie is hot, too. Aren’t bow ties supposed to be the antithesis of hot?

I thought bow ties were reserved for math club presidents and lounge singers, but damn does Luke make it look good.

My eyes go wide as I take him in, from the silk around his neck to the way his suit jacket tapers in at his waist, hinting at all the hard lines hidden under that fabric, to the way his pants hit an inch about his shiny brown loafers, showing off a sliver of ankle that has my mouth-watering.

Fuck, he is so damn hot.

When I realize I’m staring, I gasp and bring both hands up to my face, covering my eyes.

“Luke! What are you doing here?” I practically scream .

“Umm, I’m meeting you here for the…the thing…” he answers, clearly not knowing how much to say in front of our unexpected guests.

“We’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding!”

“Oh. I thought that was just for brides and their gowns. Are we doing that? Also, I thought we weren’t telling people about this?”

“We are doing that! Close your eyes Luke! And I didn’t tell anyone that we’re taking the plunge! All of these people just showed up out of nowhere. Camila was pinching my cheeks and Georgie was chastising people and then my wack job sister started talking about her husband’s cream pies and I?—”

“Dean,” Luke says, gently pulling my palms from my face and cutting through my rambling. “Take a breath for me, babe.”

Reluctantly, I open my eyes. Luke inhales and I mime his actions, breathing in when he does and holding that breath until he lets his go.

“Feel better?” he asks, and I nod. Whether it was the one deep breath or the way Luke is gently squeezing my palms in his that calms me doesn’t matter. My heart rate is returning to normal.

“And our kids?” Luke asks once the color has returned to my face.

Our kids. I like the sound of that, too .

“At my house!” Kira pipes in for me.

“Alright then, Dean. I guess we should probably get this show on the road. Unless I really am about to get murdered…” he looks over my shoulder, and I look back to find James looking at us with a smile so giddy, it’s almost creepy.

“I think you’re safe from any potential homicide. Apparently the dude just really likes weddings.”

I can see the unease settling over Luke’s face, and I can only hope that it’s the insane group of people that showed up to what we thought was a secret moment that has him on edge, and not the marriage itself.

Just in case, I squeeze his hands tight and take a step backward, leading us toward the entrance of City Hall.

“C’mon, corazón. Let’s go get married.”

I love an over-the-top, romantic and a little cheesy wedding as much as the next guy, but I have to say, courthouse nuptials might be where it's at.

No muss, very little fuss. We found the right floor, informed the receptionist of our appointment and handed over our IDs.

After signing a few papers, we were ushered into a small courtroom, and now five minutes later Luke and I are standing hand in hand in front of a judge while our oddball group of surprise witnesses watches on from the peanut gallery.

The Commissioner from the Office of the County clerk has already gone through the standard reciting of the vows, having Luke and I repeat each one back to each other. And now it’s time for the big question.

“Do you, Luke Daniel Cannon, take Dean Hayden McKenna to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Dean Hayden McKenna, take Luke Daniel Cannon to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Luke tilts his head as he shoots me a playful look.

Last chance to run, his eyes say.

Fat chance. I am in this. I am all the way in this.

I squeeze his hands three times in mine and wink.

“I do.”

“Then with the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you married. You may now kiss one another.”

Oh god.

Oh god. I forgot about the kiss.

How the hell did I forget about the kiss ?

A swarm of butterflies takes flight in my stomach as my eyes drop to Luke’s lips. His perfectly pink lips, accented around the edges by his dark brown facial hair. His tongue swipes out, wetting his bottom lip as he slightly angles his head, giving me room to lean in.

And so I do.

I lean in and gently press my mouth to my best friend’s, feeling his pillowy soft lips brushing against mine for the first time. I almost laugh, but when Luke presses in closer and more firmly against me, I realize there is absolutely nothing funny about this kiss.

It’s warm and sweet and tender. An effervescent feeling sweeps through me like a long sip of expensive champagne, and I fall into it.

I let go of Luke’s hands so that I can move one to his hip and the other to his nape, gripping him and pulling him closer.

He lets out the softest gasp, and my body acts on instinct.

The slight parting of lips gives room for my tongue to slide past, dipping into his mouth and tickling against his.

He tastes sweet and minty, like the wintergreen toothpaste that sits on his bathroom sink.

The brush of Luke’s beard against my clean shaven face sends a shiver running down my spine, and when he grabs my hips, slowly massaging me with his fingertips, I feel my cock thickening behind the zipper of my dress pants .

It’s only then that I remember where we are, who we are, and why I shouldn’t let myself lean further into this blissful oblivion.

I start to pull away, and Luke punctuates the short make-out session with a peck to my lips that makes me feel almost precious. My stomach swoops, and heat rises in my cheeks.

One kiss. That’s all it took for those stupid, tingly feelings—the ones I could have taught a masterclass on suppressing—to come bubbling back to the surface in full force. One taste of Luke’s lips, and all of my rational, adult, big-brained thinking goes straight out the window.

God fucking damn it all to hell, I have a crush on my husband.