“Holy crap,” Archie mutters.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m in deep shit unless I can come up with a magical solution.”

At that exact moment, the entry doors to Sweet Pea’s open with a tinkling bell, and even from the back, I can see the tall man dressed impeccably in custom-tailored slacks and shirt enter. The soft lighting of the floral boutique makes his dark hair shine and throws his chiseled jawline into shadows and highlights, and a Greek god would be jealous of that physique, broad shoulders and a tapered waist atop long legs.

I recognize him immediately.

Ross Andrews.

Abigail’s big brother.

Abigail’s asshole big brother.

“I know!” Abigail suddenly exclaims with a gasp and a snap of her fingers, her eyes going wide in her dramatic fashion that lets me know Abi’s just come up with a crazy idea.

“Oh, no,” I say, seeing Abi’s face light up as her eyes fall on her brother’s face. “Whatever you’re thinking, the answer’s . . . no way.”

But Abi ignores me, waving at Ross and smiling like she’s so overjoyed to see him before tossing me a mischievous wink.

“Congratulations, Vi. Looks like we just found your magical solution! You can call me your Fairy Godmother.”

Horror strikes me at what Abigail is hinting at. Me and Ross? But we basically hate each other. Our entire relationship is built on us torturing each other. Definitely no love lost between us. We barely put up with each other because we both care for Abi.

Dimly, I hear Archie argue, “If anyone in this room is going to be the Fairy Godmother, it’s damn sure not you. It’s me.”

Chapter 4

Violet

“A fake wedding with my best friend’s brother?” I hiss in disbelief as I watch Ross walk up to the counter and laugh at something Janey says. Abi spilled out some hare-brained scheme faster than I would’ve thought she could, and now I have only seconds to disabuse her of this crazy notion before she calls him over. “The king of all assholes? The guy who made my high school days a living hell, including putting a frog down my blouse in front of the whole football team? Are you crazy?”

“As a whore in church,” Archie quips.

“It’s perfect!” Abi squeals excitedly, ignoring the insult or my complaints. “Who else, besides Archie, knows you well enough to pull something like this off on short notice? And no offense, but no one’s going to believe you flipped Archie.”

He shrugs, knowing she’s right. “I don’t make a very good trade.” He’s constantly having to explain his lingo to me, but that one I know. A trade is a gay guy who can pass as straight because of his masculinity. Actually, Archie could probably do that in his black jeans, random movie reference T-shirts, combat boots, multiple earrings, and tattoo sleeves. If you only saw him posed against a graffitied wall, you’d think he was a badass punk rocker anarchist. Then he’d open his mouth and sarcastic bitchery would pour out in a tone that would make any gaydar sing like a canary.

Abi’s right. Archie’s not the man for this job.

Oh, my God, I’m actually considering this. I’ve lost my mind for sure. Hell, I’d even dismissed a fake wedding with Colin as pathetic.

But as she quickly talks about making Papa happy, having the wedding of my dreams, and then splitting later down the road with no muss, no fuss, it doesn’t sound quite as crazy—if the man knew the score from the get-go and was willing to go along and pretend.

But I’ve known Ross since I was a little girl, and he’s not exactly someone I picture as marriage material or being able to make a fake relationship believable.

He’s always treated me like I was one of his little sisters, teasing me and making fun of me. Even when I grew up, his recognition of my adulthood never fully transitioned, and he still sometimes treats me like I’m the same little girl who used to look at him with cookie dough eyes in high school. Okay, so I’ll admit now that some of my pranks were because I might’ve had the teeniest, tiniest crush on Ross. But who didn’t? He was the big man on campus, hotter than any teenager had the right to be, and I’d soaked up any attention from him I could. Except when he embarrassed me in front of the whole school. It was complicated, a love-hate situation that was purely on my younger side.

All of that’s water under the bridge now, though, and we don’t see each other that often anymore so we’re not as close as we used to be.

And there’s the simple fact that he probably won’t want to do something as crazy as this.

“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” I ask, but Abi only notices that I didn’t say no and grins big and wide in a ‘gotcha’ look.

“You’re in luck. It was never serious, and he broke it off with her months ago. Mom was devastated when she heard because she’s been wanting him to settle down for ages, so this is perfect. Won’t she get a kick when she finds out Ross is marrying Violet Russo, the same little girl who was always over at our house for those insane sleepovers! Though we’ll have to make sure the eventual breakup doesn’t paint either of you in a poor light. I don’t want to mess up my own wedding with Mom thinking you’re some shrew who broke her baby boy’s heart.”

She frowns after a moment, tapping her lip thoughtfully. “Hmm . . . Courtney might be a problem, though,” she mutters, mentioning her feisty younger sister. “But I can handle her if she tries to start trouble.”