Chapter 5

LOGAN

My dad looks happier than he’s ever been. You would think he acquired half the nation’s wealth.

He’s chirpy as fuck, and I know the reason is my wedding. Even though I was close to calling it off, I haven’t done that yet because I’m not an asshole who wants to kill the senior Malory.

I’m not sure how this is even going to work out. I don’t have time for a wife or a bratty kid. I’m betting that Maggie’s going to get tired of me in a few months and file for a divorce, which is totally fine.

In that case, my father wouldn’t have a choice, and he would have to deal with it. I almost hope she leaves me.

The wedding is going to be a private ceremony that includes a couple of my close friends and relatives on the guest list. I’m very particular about who should and shouldn’t be invited.

I take my assistant, Paris, to choose a wedding ring. There are tons of rings to choose from, and it’s too much of a hassle for me to choose, so I tell him to get the best one for Maggie.

He chooses the biggest solitaire there is, which makes the salesman’s eyes turn into tennis balls.

It’s annoying to see that disgusting smile on my assistant’s face as he goes from store to store, picking up random things that my wife would need.

Paris seems more excited about my wedding than I am.

The house is filled with people that are busy doing the decorations for the ceremony. Since my house overlooks a lake, it’s the perfect venue.

I didn’t want to cause an uproar by making it a big lavish wedding with the media swarming the place outside or guests who attended the wedding for mindless gossip.

I’m an extremely private man who loves his tranquility.

And this tranquility that I have in my life is going to be disrupted by a wife who expects love and a kid who’s hell-bent on making my life miserable.

I let my thoughts stray for a second.

Who would have thought that the Maggie with the big-toothed smile would marry me someday?

She was about nine when I took her out to the amusement park because the poor kid had no friends, and I took pity on her. We went together on rides, the arcade, and I recall it was a fun day.

I even took her to a concert of her favorite band at the time, and since she was so short, she would sit on my shoulders.

It made me happy to see that smile on her face. I guess we used to be kindred spirits, kids whose parents were either assholes or too busy to give their time.

I grew up alone mostly, and I didn’t want Maggie to experience the same thing, so I let her feed off my affection. I became that person she could rely on.

I remember at the hotdog stand, I was buying her food when she started talking to some older girls, early twenties give or take.

I overheard their conversation.

“Your older brother is so cute. Can you give us his number?” one of the girls asked Maggie.

I remember laughing to myself, feeling bad for overhearing the conversation.

“Logan is not my brother,” she said defensively. There was an angry tone in her voice.

I was still laughing until she said, “He’s going to marry me someday!”

The girls found it adorable for some reason, and they had a good laugh.

Everyone thought Maggie would grow out of this childhood crush she had over me, but it didn’t change until she was eighteen, when things got a lot messier than I imagined.

A text message on my phone distracts me from my thoughts.

It’s a text from Maggie. There’s a picture on the screen of my fiancée in her wedding gown at the boutique. She looks beautiful in a white dress.

There’s a message below that picture.

Guilt washes over me. Maggie is everything that I shouldn’t have. It feels criminal to think of this lovely young woman as someone who is going to be forced to marry a man who is two decades older than she is.

I don’t know what to even think of this, of us together, and I shouldn’t want it, but my heart thumps against my chest with the thought of taking this woman as my wife.

MAGGIE

Logan

You look pretty.

That’s all I’m getting from my soon-to-be-husband, and it’s almost forced.

For the past few days, I’ve been trying my best to get Logan to open up a bit. I’ve concluded that I might never be able to break through his cold exterior, so I might as well try to be friends with him.

Chase seems excited about moving into Logan’s house, which is a relief. I didn’t think my son would be so quick to approve of a stepfather, but the kid did not so much as throw a fit, which is kind of odd.

It’s going to get a hell of a lot more awkward when I’m actually married. I lie in bed and think of what my life with Logan is going to be like.

I’ve heard rumors that he is a skilled lover, and I know he won’t disappoint me in that area. I imagine myself with a naked Logan, touched by his long-calloused hands and looking into those deep azure eyes.

Just those dirty thoughts make me squeal in excitement. I bury my face in the pillow, embarrassed by my own thoughts.

Outside of the bedroom, as his companion, I just need a few hours of his time. That’s not asking a lot, is it?

I’m just so thankful to him for helping my father and for accepting a son that wasn’t his. I couldn’t ask for more.

There’s a text from my friend Zoe. She wants to have a bachelorette party in a male strip club.

I roll my eyes. I’m so not interested in that.

LOGAN

I’m too mesmerized by the sight of my bride walking down the aisle to think of anything else.

She looks gorgeous in a long, minimally designed dress. I had it custom-made just for her. The bottom is covered in ruffles and there’s a matching lace-embroidered veil.

She has a huge, glowing smile on her face as she walks toward me, and that just makes the guilt even worse.

I’m sure she wishes it wasn’t me here but someone else, and yet she’s good at putting up a show for everyone else to see.

The little demon stands with the rings beside us. Surprisingly, he looks excited. The action figure sits alone in a chair, front row with the other guests. He’s reserved a seat especially for it.

When Maggie told him he shouldn’t occupy a seat with a toy, Chase threw a fit by screaming and lying on the grass, going completely ~Exorcist~, like that kid who crawls upside down from the stairs, so I told her it was all right.

The action figure is now a guest at the wedding.

The ceremony is quick. When the minister tells me to kiss the bride, I place a quick kiss on her cheek. Disappointment crosses Maggie’s features, but she purses her lips together, biting the words.

The reception is not quick enough. I don’t like being the center of attention, and I hate dancing, but Maggie looks hopeful.

Just to humor the crowd, I slow dance with her. She has her hands wrapped around my neck as I hold her waist, moving with the beat. I don’t like the look she’s giving me. She looks hopeful, and I’m scared to disappoint her.

Her hair covers her exposed back, and it’s soft to touch. She smells so good, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else.

I almost wish we were in an alternate universe where we get married because we’re in love and not because of a business transaction.

The demonic child sits with my father. He’s keeping him company.

I notice how he makes my old man laugh, and I realize he already has him wrapped around his little finger, which is good, because I want my father to get along with his step-grandson.

The rest of the ceremony goes by in a blur. Maggie tosses the flowers and her cousin catches them. I have a feeling they rehearsed the catch a few times. The other girls don’t even have a chance.

When we’re both in the car together, there’s a suffocating silence between us. I want to say something, tell her that she looks gorgeous, but my own train of thought holds me back.

There’s a resort booked for us for the night. Maggie passes me a sideways glance and when our eyes meet, she quickly looks away. There’s a spark of excitement and anticipation in her eyes.

I guess we’re both thinking of the same thing. She’s probably really nervous about the wedding night, but I want to remind her that I’m a hundred times more agitated about this than she is.

“Are you okay?” she asks me.

I give her a forced smile. “I’m fine.”

This is a bad idea.