Page 74 of Forking the Billionaire

Layana kicked Chester in the knee.

“Oof.” Chester responded with a sour twist of his mouth and a glare. “I waspraisingyour future spawn.”

“No more spawn or litter talk, or you’re fired,” Layana said. “With a flamethrower.”

He smiled at her. “But I’m the only one here who’s ordained. I got the paper just for you.”

“He’ll behave for the real thing.” Juno’s expression grew dark. “Won’t you, Chester?”

“I’ll be the perfect gentleman, cross my heart,” he said. “Hope to die. Poke a Cheeto in my eye.”

Gabe groaned.

“I might just do that.” Layana laughed. “I bet the cheese dust would get all up in there, and you’d end up with a retinal infection.”

“Mom and Dad will throw a fit if they catch any of this kind of nonsense during the ceremony,” Layana’s sister Luna said under her breath.

“That’s the risk of video chat,” Lindsey said. “Along with the rest of doing this in such a non-traditional way.”

Morgan twisted and thrust her chin up at the pair. “It’s going to be the perfect ceremony for Layana.”

It sounded like a warning to the sisters, maybe even to the universe. Morgan was always so sweet, it was nice to see her loyalty shine brighter.

“Kiss the bride,” Chester bellowed out of nowhere. His loud voice, amplified by the way sound bounced off the cave walls, vibrated my chest.

I couldn’t see Gabe’s face, but the way he pulled his bride-to-be into his arms and kissed her, I was certain he couldn’t wait for this part. He was completely certain about Layana after such a short time. He never went half in on anything. He was so focused and driven that he only chose the most important to focus on. Everything else—activities, people—became noise to him.

Out of the billions of people on the planet, how had he foundthe one?He’d never settle for anything less. He didn’t believe in good enough.

Whatever dumb luck or Hallmark movie magic allowed him to pull it off, I was ridiculously happy for him. Excited tears ofjoy pricked my eyes. If anyone deserved the whole white picket fence, two and a half kids American dream, it was Gabe.

Even though he’d been eleven when our only real parent died, Gabe had stepped up. He helped Oma raise me. He basically got robbed of his whole childhood. Then he took over where Dad left off with a passion for trash. I didn’t get it, but I respected it. Gabe was reducing landfills with his mega-sized brain. What wasn’t to respect?

I wished sometimes that I’d gotten to know Dad better, too, since I was only two when he passed. I didn’t have to mourn the same way Gabe did, because I was so little. But I also didn’t feel any real connection to the dad I never got the chance to know. I did know I was lucky that Gabe watched my back all those years.

This was what I was supposed to be focusing on—my brother, his wedding, the whole miracle of love thing. Finally, I was getting my priorities right.

Jasper turned his head ever so slightly, his gaze landing on me.

My breath caught, and I was transported right back to our forbidden make-out session on Turtle Beach. His lips quirked up on the side in a stunningly charming grin.

And there went my focus on the right thing. Now all I could think about was wrong things—deliciously dirty things that couldn’t be scrubbed from my brain even with bleach and steel wool.

I wrinkled my nose and glared at Jasper, willing myself not to smile back. Still, I could feel the pull in my cheeks. I was going to lose this internal battle.

It was stupid to allow anything physical to happen between us, and it could never happen again. I knew this. I knew getting involved with him was a terrible idea, but as we celebrated love, as we were forced to stand side-by-side, his pinky brushing theinside of my forearm, it didn’t feel like the worst thing that could happen.

What was a little harmless fun between two people who’d known each other for forever? He’d said he wanted to be the friend I needed.

The more I told myself it was smart to resist, the more I was sure I was going to fold and give in.

And I was going to love every minute of it.

TWENTY-ONE

JASPER

I could count the number of weddings I’d attended on one hand. For each, I’d been a child stuffed into a suit that I hated. I’d been surrounded by a menagerie of ancient, boring relics. All of them had droned on about their fortunes and their latest purchases to try and out-bland all of the other old-money relics.

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