Page 8 of Vicious Arrangement (Alpha Billionaire Daddies #7)

Chapter Eight

NOAH

I check my watch as I lean against the railing on the top step of City Hall.

Aria isn’t late. Yet.

“The suit’s good, so stop panicking,” Asher says, who’s here as my witness.

“Of course it is.” I smooth a hand down the dark purple tie with tiny lavender flowers on it. “Apart from the tie.”

“I got you that tie.”

I give him a smile. “I know. It’s got… flowers on it.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve worn ties with things on them before.”

“When I was in my early twenties, man. Now if there’s something on the tie, it’s a subtle pattern.”

“That’s subtle.”

“It’s purple and lavender.”

“I asked what suit you were wearing and you said it was a Byron or something and it had purple pinstripes.”

Good god, and we’re friends. “It’s a Brioni Vanquish and the pinstripe is a dark plum.”

“Purple.”

“Thanks,” I mutter dryly, “for the tie.”

“You know,” Asher says, “I never thought I’d see the day when the great Noah Templeton decided to let other men have a chance and get married.”

I bite my inner cheek because I refuse to laugh. “You never know, I still might cause havoc.”

Asher considers me. “You like her, though, I can tell. You’re nervous. You’ve checked your watch fifteen times and she’s not even late.”

“You know, I never thought I’d get married, either,” I admit. I sigh. “I’m not nervous, though. Just anxious.”

For as long as I can remember, marriage has never been on the cards. A therapist would tell me it’s not surprising. Look at my upbringing.

I got everything I wanted, but nothing I needed, like love and emotional support. And if that makes me sound like a whiny little bitch, then I’m a fucking whiny little bitch.

This isn’t something I share with Asher because he has a lot of words and views on the subject I’m not in the mood for this fine spring morning.

But I’m also not blind to the fact Oscar I didn’t want to get married, which is why he fucking did this.

I check my watch again, and Asher smacks my arm. I look up and almost forget to speak.

Aria’s here with minutes to spare, probably five of them. She gets out of an Uber with her dark-haired friend, the drunk from the other night. The drunk’s wearing a dark rose pink dress.

And Aria…

She looks fucking gorgeous. I look past her and wait until they’re almost at the top step, then I head in, not saying a word, leaving Asher to fill the gap as I make my way to the city clerk’s office where we’re getting married.

I know I’m being beyond rude, but holy fuck, I knew she was pretty, I knew she appealed to me, but I never expected her to look like a wet fucking dream.

We’re led into the room, and Asher and the drunk glare my way, though Asher less so than the girl, I think he gets where my brain is, but I have to speak to her.

So I turn, willing every single reaction to stay unresponsive.

But it’s hard. Her pretty red lips and her made-up eyes offer a burst of juicy color. Her hair’s swept up and clipped by a silk barrette, and her waving curls fall down her back and over her right side a little, like she’d done her hair and then we’d messed it up with hot sex.

I swallow. This dress is better than the red one. The simple white silk clings, dipping in the front and showing off her impressive cleavage. Then it follows the almost hourglass shape of her body and hits the floor. The gown’s underrated, utter perfection, and totally up my street.

She’s a vision.

I take her hand and raise it to my lips, kissing it. Her skin’s warm and soft, though the nails are short, unpolished hands from working in a hospital. I turn her hand to run my lips and nose along her inner wrist, and she smells like white oak, jasmine, and gardenia, like it’s just part of her.

Then I meet her blue eyes. “You look stunning, Aria. Really.”

Now that I’m looking at her, it’s almost impossible to take my eyes off her. I love how she blushes, the extra color adding to that absolute beauty that is her.

She licks her lips, like she’s going to speak, but instead, she looks down, clearly flustered. I try to think of something to say to make her smile, to ease the embarrassment of me doing something like fucking smell her wrist, when the door opens and the city clerk comes in.

“We ready?”

“Yes,” I say, not giving her a chance to ask for a minute.

“Good. Let’s get this done, and then you’ll be married. Hooray, and so on.” But he smiles and begins the brief ceremony.

Asher fumbles with the rings I handed him that morning. Hers is too big, and I make a note to get her another along with an engagement ring.

And then…

We’re married.

It’s surreal. But we head out, this time I take her hand, which is stiff and cold and sparking with some kind of inner life that feeds my blood.

“Photos!” The dark-haired friend says, and Asher grins, his eyes darting to the pretty girl.

“Definitely photos.” He pulls out his phone and starts snapping us, the girl doing the same as we try to get the fuck out of the building.

On the steps, her friend makes us pose for more photos in the sun. “I wish you had a bouquet.”

“I told you, Katie, I’m not spending money on killing flowers for a five-minute photoshoot.”

“Katie,” Asher says, all boyish charm, “I’m Asher, the asshole’s best friend.”

“I knew he was an asshole,” she says. “Are you?”

“No. Maybe worse? A single dad.”

She puts her hand to her heart. “Oh, no. That’s hot. You’re like a young zaddy.” Then she turns. “Let’s get lunch to celebrate.”

“Great idea,” Asher says as the women head down the stairs to call an Uber. I could call a car. I should call a car. Templeton’s has a number of them for the high-up execs.

But I put a hand on Asher’s arm, stopping him. “She’s pretty,” I say.

“I hope you think she is,” he says, gaze wandering to Katie. “You married her.”

“Not Aria, Katie.”

“What? I can’t smile at a pretty girl? Josh’s at preschool, I took off the day for this. So I can smile and talk and look.”

But I know him, and I haven’t seen the interest he’s wearing on his face in years.

I smile and motion down the stairs. Tell them to cancel the Uber, I’ll get a car, and be careful and tone it down around your new paramour. You don’t want to scare her off. After all, you’re already ugly enough.”

“Hey,” he says, laughing. “I might not be as ugly as you, but chicks love kids.” He winks. “I’m in.”

I stare at him.

“Joking.”

Yeah, right, I don’t believe him, but it’s not my place to say more than I have. I just don’t want him to get hurt, or Joshy.

But it is Asher, and he’s nothing but careful.

I rub a hand across my face, taking in the way the dress showcases Aria’s ass. I’m just out of my comfort zone. A wife?

Jeez.

To be honest, the only two people who don’t really want to go on this celebration lunch are me and my bride. I call a car. When I reach them, tucking my phone away, I meet Aria’s eyes. Yeah, she wants to be a world away. I don’t blame her.

For myself, I’d planned on going back to the office, diving into work. I have a mountain of it. I’ve a lot to do now I’m in control, but it can wait.

When the car arrives, we pile in, and I’m pressed against Aria, who burns into me, making my pants a little tight. But I choose a cool place in Williamsburg, near McCarren Park. The vibe’s happening, it’s not full, clearly, but it’s dark, moody and the food’s excellent. An hour should be enough.

But an hour turns into the afternoon, we drink, eat and laugh. Crazy stories make their rounds, and Asher shows pictures of Josh, and the women sigh over him. I get it. The kid’s fucking cute.

Katie is actually nice. She’s bubbly, the wild to Aria’s more tempered nature. Or the nature she lets out. She’ll be organized, given to being the sensible one, the girl who watches over like a guardian.

She’s definitely warm and nurturing and Katie clearly thinks the sun and moon shine from her. And it’s just as clear Aria thinks the world of her friend.

I order another round, letting the tension of the past week and the tension my drunken night where I ran into Aria—literally—failed to relieve, actually seep away.

“Oh my god, Asher,” Katie says, who’s clearly a world-class flirt as she puts her hand on his arm and flutters her eyelashes at him. “Did you hear how they met?”

Asher’s a fucking goner, he’s all goofy smiles and leaning into her. “She spilled water on his crotch.”

“And,” Katie says, “made things grow. I hear he’s got quite the package.”

“Katie!” Aria squeals. “I didn’t say that.”

They both ignore her.

“I haven’t had the privilege of checking it out. Not that I want to, but for science’s sake…” Asher looks at me and smiles, ignoring my I’m going to kill you look, “Drop your pants and show us.”

“We’re in a restaurant,” I say.

“The corner,” he says.

Katie nods. “No one can see you.”

“I didn’t say that. I said I tried to clean him up and then realized where I’d spilled.” Aria stops, misery on her face, humor too. Like she knows she walked into something.

Then again, I get it, these two are setting minefields.

“He said she felt him up.”

“Asher? Shut up,” I say.

They dissolve into laughter, and Aria starts too, touching my leg as she does so. I smile, I like her hand there. I like this afternoon.

It’s the most relaxed I’ve been in forever. Hands down.

So I settle back and do something I don’t usually do outside of time with just Asher and Josh. I let myself have fun.