Never Marry Your Brother's Best Friend (Never Say Never, #1)

“No.” Zack’s doing great with all this, truthfully, but there are some things you don’t want to know about your sister.

I’d be the same way with Kayla. And beyond the ‘don’t hurt her’ routine, the only way he agreed to not continue with his plan to beat the shit out of me was that he doesn’t want to hear one single peep about sex. Considering my nose and the remaining slight swelling, it’d seemed an acceptable deal to me.

We get arranged in front of the fireplace with Judge Warren, and I smile down at Luna, taking her hands in mine again. “Ready.” I’m talking to the JP, but Luna nods.

“Wait! One last time . . . Luna, are you sure?” Samantha asks. “Option Escape is still on the table if you need it.” She assumes a posture that’s more linebacker than maid of honor, acting as though she’d fight off anyone who got in her way if Luna wants to bail.

Luna smiles and releases my hands, and for a moment, panic bubbles up inside my gut. But Luna hugs her friend and assures her, “I’m sure.”

“Okay, then,” the JP starts.

“Wait, me too,” Zack says. “Luna, I’m sorry I got you mixed up with this. Please don’t do anything you don’t want to, including marrying this fucker.”

“You’re supposed to be my best man,” I growl.

“Yeah, but I’m Luna’s brother.” He has a valid point, so I let it go.

“Zack, it’s fine,” she tells him. “I want this.”

The JP looks to Kayla expectantly, and she leans between Luna and me. “Blink twice will always work with me. Always.”

I don’t know what she’s talking about, but Luna opens her eyes wide and stares back at Kayla for an uncomfortably long time.

I clear my throat. “Should I be offended that no one’s asking me if I’m sure?”

Zack, Kayla, and Samantha all chuckle. “You’re totally getting the better deal here,” Zack explains.

Even the JP nods at that. “That’s usually the case, son.” He clears his throat. “Experience says, at least.”

“Can we get started?” I’m a little grumpy about it, but when I look at Luna, whose full lips are tilted up in quiet laughter at the group’s assessment of us, I know they’re right. To the outside world, I might be the catch—wealthy, good-looking, and with a well-connected family. But the truth is, Luna is the better person. With her art obsession, shy nervousness, and unpredictable fire . . . she’s the one who is truly deserving of a beautiful wedding and a happy marriage.

I might not have the luxury of being Luna’s husband in her heart, or for long, but I will do my best to make sure she has all the things she deserves.

“We are gathered here today to honor Mr. Carter Harrington and Miss Luna Starr by witnessing them joining together in wedded bliss . . .”





CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO





LUNA





This is happening. Or, it’s actually already happened. I’m holding the pen, signing the marriage license with Judge Warren and Carter, and completely in shock. My hand’s barely able to make my signature on the paper, and any minute, I swear Ashton Kutcher is going to jump out again and yell ‘gotcha’.

That’d probably make this the longest running prank ever, but this is so not my life.

Except it is.

“Okay, all looks to be in order. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington.” Judge Warren shakes Carter’s hand and then leans in to give me a weak, grandfatherly hug with a promise to file the paperwork promptly.

It’s official. I’m married. I’m Mrs. Carter Harrington.

“Oh, my God,” I mutter, my knees giving out beneath me. Carter catches me easily, supporting me well above the ground.

Whoo, he moves faster than a frat guy going for a free watered-down light beer. Maybe he’s a vampire that’s cast a spell on me? Wait, vampires don’t cast spells. Witches do. Warlocks? Magicians? Too fast, too fast, too fast . . .

“Luna? You okay?” Carter sounds concerned, and when his face comes into view before my wavering vision, he looks freaked out. Distantly, I hear the judge say not to worry, that these things happen in early pregnancy.

I’m not pregnant! I want to yell out, but I can’t find the strength. I’m not pregnant, I’m just ass over heels in shock.

Because I’m married . . . to Carter freaking Harrington.

For real.

I’ve played this out a hundred different ways and was sure I could handle it, but I can’t seem to get enough air and there’s a tornado’s worth of wind roaring in my ears.

“Breathe, Luna.” Carter’s voice is strong and commanding and coming from right in front of me. I open eyes I didn’t realize I’d closed and see that we’re nearly nose to nose. “Slow it down. In. Out. In. Out.”

I am breathing, but it’s too shallow and erratic, and the expansive room feels so small, claustrophobic. But Carter’s support helps, and slowly, I’m able to find his rhythm and breathe in sync with him.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” I hear Zack hiss, and my breath wavers.

“Don’t listen to him,” Carter snaps, pulling me to him again. “Focus on my voice. In. Out.” A few more rounds and I’m back. “There you are. Good girl.”

I try to smile, but I’m not sure if it works because my lips are tingling. “Thanks,” I huff out, finally breathing more normally, “Dr. Carter.”

Samantha shoulders Carter out of the way. “You haven’t had a panic attack in ages, babe. What do you need?”

I flick my eyes to her, but they’re drawn back to Carter. His blue eyes are what I need, his forehead kiss is what I want, his strong arms wrapped around me are a relief . . . and that’s exactly what he gives me. A moment later—or at least it feels like that to me—and I’m truly recovered.

Carter releases me in phases until he’s far enough away to search my eyes for clarity. He must be reassured by what he sees because he lets go. I don’t know how we got here, but I’m sitting in a chair and Carter is kneeling in front of me. Behind him stand Zack, Samantha, and Kayla. Judge Warren must’ve made an escape during my panic attack.

“I’m okay now. Sorry,” I tell everyone.

Samantha frowns. “Don’t do that. No need for apologies. Here.” She holds out a glass of water, and I take it, bringing it shakily to my mouth. Sam swats Carter’s shoulder. “Help your wife,” she orders, pointing at me as if we don’t all know who Carter’s wife is.

I’m Carter’s wife!

But Carter doesn’t move toward the glass. He smiles, eyes locked on mine. “She’s got it. My girl’s strong.”

His faith helps me find additional strength, and I manage to drink the water on my own without spilling a drop. “Thanks.”

I’m talking to Carter, but Sam makes a harrumph noise that means ‘you’re welcome’ and takes the glass back.