Page 1 of His Brazen Bride

1

GWEN

Go figure: I’m actually rocking this periwinkle blue bridesmaid’s dress.

A miracle, right? Everyone knows that bridesmaids’ dresses have to be hideous and make you wonder if the bride evenlikesyou.

But this one is impressive. The material has a natural give that makes it more comfortable than most, hugging my curves with a sensual femininity I’m not used to.

I’m more at home in worn jeans and an old sweatshirt. But as I twirl in front of the mirror, gardenias woven into my dark hair, my lashes thick, my skin glowing, I feel…pretty. Nothing like my usual tomboy self.

The groom must have picked it out. He’s the most fashionable person I know.

“If we leave now, no one will even notice,” Iris murmurs, coming up behind me. She looks stunning as usual—tall, lithe, perfectly bronzed, her blonde hair done in the same plaits as mine.

She flashes me a wicked grin in the mirror. “Seriously. We can run out the back and be gone before the string quartet begins the wedding march.”

“Iris! Nataliya will hear you,” Lacey whispers, looking up from the book in her hands. Her midnight black hair is gleaming, her face fresh and dewy. She was ready twenty minutes ago but pulled out a book the moment she finished. Always reading, that one.

“Nataliya’s gone to get the flower girl,” I reply.

“And she wouldn’t understand me anyway.” Iris runs some gloss over her pouty lips. “She doesn’t know any English.”

The bride is of the mail order variety from some Eastern European country. She’s marrying our boss, Gabe. She doesn't know anyone here in the US, so Iris, Lacey, and I were volunteered to be her bridesmaids.

“I still can’t believe he’s going through with this,” Iris mutters.

“Does Nataliya know?” Lacey asks.

“That Gabe’s gay?” I shrug. “Not sure. Maybe she doesn’t care. She still gets her green card, right?”

Gabe’s the CEO of Atlas Athletics, the sports agency we all work for. He figured he would be more successful in such a traditionally alpha male industry if people didn’t know he was gay. His family had been pressuring him to get married anyway, so he decided a fake marriage would solve his problems.

So he’s looking at it like a business deal. A contract.

Contracts are what I do at Atlas Athletics so I’m not going to judge. I understand them.

Marriage, however, I don’t get.

My dad wanted me to settle down and said as much before he passed. But I think he just wanted someone to take care of me becausehecouldn’t. I do a damn fine job of that myself, thank you.

People don’t get married for love, anyway. Mom sure didn’t. As soon as Dad got ill, she bailed. I guess she’d imagined being taken care of, too…and when she saw that wouldn’t happen, she cut her losses.

Lacey sighs. “Hey, they could grow to love one another.”

Iris groans, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to forget you said that, Lace.”

Lacey purses her lips. “Sorry. I didn’t think that one through.”

I tuck my lipstick and phone into my matching periwinkle wristlet. “Better than dying alone, right?”

Iris chuckles. “Neither of you has to worry about that. You have me.”

Lacey comes up to put her arms around us both. “Exactly. We’ll always stick together no matter what.”

“Men are overrated, anyway,” Iris scoffs. “I have all the man I need in my purse. It just requires batteries.”

“Iris!” Lacey exclaims.

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