Page 62 of Devil's Iris
“Apparently, none of them got to do that for their weddings, and they’reinsistingI must have one. You know—‘we only get married once’, and all that. They think this is a love match, like theirs.” I try a small smile as I point out why I couldn’t just tell them an outright no. “And honestly… I’m kind of excited about it. They’re really cool women.”
His gaze hardens to flint. “No.”
My mouth falls open. “No?”
“Those parties can get wild. Why weren’t you in the holding cell that night at the police station like everyone else?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. “A bachelorette party. The answer is no.”
Okay, he has a good point—but still. I lift my chin, giving him my best defiant stare. “Well, I’d love to see you tell Elira,Gianna,andEmilia no. I tried, but it was like I wasn’t even speaking.”
Not that I tried all that hard. Fake wedding or not, they’ve got me genuinely hyped up for this party with the way they’ve been talking about it in the group chat. It sounds like they’ve got something really good up their sleeves.
“Goddamn it,” he mutters under his breath, and I turn to face the window to hide my triumphant smile.
The smile lingers until we arrive at the venue where our wedding planner is waiting. She meets us in the middle of the small event hall, practically glowing with enthusiasm.
“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you two in person. I’m Marcy, your wedding coordinator.” She’s wearing a cheerful summer dress, a pink bag slung across her shoulder, and an iPad clutched to her chest.
“Nice to meet you, Marcy.” I shake her hand, surprised by how warm and genuine she feels.
“You two are fast becoming my favorite couple to work with.” She beams at us. “I know you gave me free rein for everything, but I hope you like the concept I’ve come up with. Can you believe it? Only a few days away!” She glances back at us as she leads us towards the back of the hall to a cozy office, her brows knitting slightly as she takes in the obvious space between Romero and me.
Shit. We’re supposed to be madly in love.
“Crazy, isn’t it?” I let out an awkward chuckle, quickly closing the gap between us and lacing my fingers through his. His hand twitches at the contact, and his gaze immediately drops to my face. But he doesn’t pull away.
Instead, he turns a charming smile towards Marcy. “Time flies when you’re in love,” he says smoothly, sending my pulse racing when he brushes his thumbs over my knuckles in the most casual, intimate gesture.
Marcy grins, shoulders relaxing as we walk into her office. “That is so true.” Rather than heading for the neat desk in the corner, she flops into a cushy armchair and waves us towards the sofa across from her. “Okay, let’s get you two up to speed about what I’ve accomplished.”
She waits for us to sit down, but I can feel her watching us like a hawk, cataloguing every interaction, so I practically melt into Romero’s side. He wraps an arm around my shoulders without hesitation, and I place my palm against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my fingers.
This is dangerous.The thought flickers through my mind as his warmth seeps into me, his scent invading my senses.This feels too real.I try to pay attention to Marcy as she starts talking, but it’s like trying to focus while standing next to a bonfire.
“The cake has been selected, and I’m going for the tasting tomorrow. You didn’t have a preference, so I went with the classic vanilla flavor.” She taps away on her iPad, then leans over so I can see her screen showing a beautiful three-tier wedding cake design.
“Lovely,” I murmur, and I actually mean it. The cake is gorgeous.
She grins at me. “The catering walk-through is on Tuesday. And we’ve secured the string quartet for the ceremony. They're going to do that instrumental version of your song.”
“Our song,” I echo, glancing at Romero. He picked a song? What song?
“You sure you still want that one?” He looks down at me as if we’ve discussed this a dozen times. “We could change it.”
“No, don’t,” Marcy interjects. “‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ is a perfect entrance song. Very romantic… it gives me chills every time.” She flashes me a knowing smile, but I can only stare at Romero in complete shock, my heart thudding erratically.
He remembered.I only mentioned it once, during dinner the night he proposed. Just a throwaway comment about how it was my favorite song, and heremembered.
“No, we’re keeping it,” I finally manage to say, glancing at Marcy. “It’s exactly what I want.”
She presses her hands to her chest with a dreamy sigh. “Ugh, stop—you two are making me believe in fairytales again.”
My throat closes up as the weight of our lie sinks into me. If only she knew the truth.
That this beautiful, romantic wedding she’s planning is built on a complete fabrication. That I’m a fraud sitting here pretending to be head-over-heels in love…
But he remembered my favorite song. That has to mean something, right? You don’t remember random details about someone you’re just doing business with. You don’t choose their favorite song for your fake wedding unless…
Unless what? Unless he actually cares?
