Mix 'N Match (No Match for Love) (30 page)

“It’s almost your turn, Zoey,” Juliette said.

Zoey nodded, reaching for the bouquet Juliette held out to her.

“Wait.” Brooke grabbed Zoey’s arm, pulling her back. “I know about the fake wedding,” she blurted.

Zoey’s mouth dropped. “What?”

“Luke said he didn’t want us to get married with secrets. He told me this morning.”

Zoey sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I couldn’t let Alan ruin your wedding day.”

“Zoey,” Juliette said, her voice growing urgent.

“I know,” Brooke said. She pulled Zoey into a tight hug. “I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am.”

“Well, Luke paid for it,” Zoey said, making her tone as flippant as possible.

Brooke laughed, waving back the tears. “Oh my gosh, I’m going to start crying. I love you, Zoey.”

“I love you, too,” Zoey said.

Brooke squeezed her hands. “Mitch is good for you. I know you think you’re too different, but I think you balance each other out. You need each other.”

“I don’t think—”

“It’s time,” Juliette said again.

Brooke pulled Zoey forward, giving her one last tight hug before pushing her toward the aisle. “Go!”

Zoey grabbed the bouquet from Juliette and stepped onto the aisle. She pulled her shoulders back and smiled widely for the guests. Mitch stood at the end of the aisle next to Luke, looking ridiculously handsome in his tuxedo and lilac vest.

Sometimes, my feelings for you scare me,
she’s told him yesterday.
I don’t know what to do with them, and it freaks me out that they’re so strong.
Is that what she was doing now—freaking out? Allowing their differences to convince her they belonged apart?

Zoey swallowed, her smile slipping for the briefest moment before she forced it back into place. Her mind flashed back to last night, when she’d walked down a much shorter aisle toward Mitch. The white satin runway she currently walked down, with guests watching from each side and flower petals crunching under her feet, faded into gravel and rose bushes. Mitch’s gaze was every bit as intense now as it had been last night.

It had been less than twenty-four hours since their wedding, but it already felt like a lifetime ago.

Zoey took her place at the front of the room next to the other bridesmaids, and the music changed to the more traditional wedding march. The audience rose to their feet, and Brooke appeared at the end of the aisle.

Zoey’s throat constricted. Brooke walked with confidence, her veil trailing behind her. Zoey peered at Luke, and his eyes glistened with tears.

Brooke thought Zoey and Mitch were a good match. And she did have the highest success rate at Toujour.

Brooke’s dad kissed her cheek, then placed her hand in Luke’s, and the couple turned to face the minister.

Zoey would be returning to California tomorrow, to an apartment she’d now live in alone. Whether she liked it or not, things were changing. Had changed. Did she want to include Mitch in that? What sacrifices was she willing to make to be with him?

Brooke glowed as she recited her vows. “I promise to always remember that love can’t be controlled by a silly set of rules,” Brooke said, and Luke chuckled.

Zoey thought of her own vows. She’d meant every single word, at the time. But now, a day later, it seemed so ridiculous to profess such feelings.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” the minister said.

Luke dipped Brooke back and covered her lips with his. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Zoey put two fingers to her mouth, whistling loudly.

Maybe Brooke and Luke had found their happily ever after together, but they were meant for each other. Luke hadn’t tried to change Brooke and vice versa.

Zoey couldn’t guarantee that Mitch wouldn’t try to change her. They were just two people with a mutual attraction.

Hours later, Zoey stared across the crowded dance floor at Brooke and Luke. Both of them glowed, arms wrapped around each other in their first dance as husband and wife.

Zoey swiped underneath her eyes, wishing the tears would stop. Brooke and Luke’s ceremony had been beautiful and emotional, and Zoey had battled her own emotions ever since. She was so happy for Brooke and Luke. But Zoey couldn’t get the ache out of her heart that throbbed every time she thought of Mitch.

Were they really all wrong for each other, or was she unwilling to make the sacrifices necessary to be together? She thought back over the past two weeks. When she’d come up with her crazy plan to get rid of Alan, he’d gone along with it. When she’d wanted to play in the rainstorm, he’d joined her. He’d gone outside his comfort zone and asked random strangers to take their picture together at Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower.

Someone sank into the chair next to Zoey’s. He was maybe ten years her senior, with a suit that screamed money and a face fit for a magazine—just her type. Or would’ve been, two weeks ago.

“Hey,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Mark. Luke and I were college roommates.”

“Zoey,” she said. “Brooke’s roommate and best friend.”

“And the maid of honor. It’s a pleasure.”

“You and Luke must be pretty good friends if you came all the way from the States for this wedding,” Zoey said.

“We’ve kept in pretty good touch over the years. I’m actually living in Paris right now, so this was perfect.”

Zoey leaned forward. “Wow, I’m jealous. This city is amazing. What brought you here?”

“Work, of course.” He scooted closer. “I’m an architect. I did a six-month internship here right out of grad school and enjoyed it so much I’ve stayed for five years.”

“I can see why.” She thought of running from Alan with Mitch, of their kiss on the Eiffel Tower, and another knife stabbed through her heart. “Paris is a beautiful city.”

“
You
are beautiful.” He extended a hand, along with a charming smile. “Would you care to dance?”

Had she been flirting? Zoey couldn’t believe it. She was usually so conscious of that kind of thing. Mitch had knocked her completely off her game.

She needed to talk to Mitch.

But it would be rude to refuse a dance. So Zoey let Mark draw her from the chair and lead her to the dance floor. She placed her hands on his shoulder, the action feeling all wrong. Mark placed his hands at the small of her back and urged her closer.

“Excuse me, but that’s my wife you’re dancing with.”

Zoey jerked back. Mitch’s dark face was pulled down in a scowl, his arms folded across his chest.

Crap.

Mark immediately dropped his hands, backing away. “Oh wow, I had no idea. I’m really sorry, man.” He gave a salute. “It was nice meeting you, Zoey.”

Awkward. Zoey watched him disappear into the crowd, then whirled on Mitch. “What was that all about?”

“I didn’t like the way he was . . . was . . .”

Zoey placed her hands on her hips, glaring. “Was what?”

“Was
fondling
you.”

A few of the guests turned to look at them. Zoey rolled her eyes and grabbed Mitch by the jacket. He seemed to understand her intention, so she let go and marched down the hallway to a sitting room that was empty.

She liked that he was angry.

“We were just dancing,” Zoey said. “Besides, it’s none of your business who does or does not fondle me.”

“It should be! I want it to be.”

Zoey’s arms dropped to her side, hope blossoming in her heart. “What?”

Mitch ran a hand over his hair, then threw both his hands up in the air. “You have me so frazzled I don’t know which way is up. You make me believe I can jump off a cliff and not only survive, but enjoy the ride down and make something good out of the disaster waiting for me at the bottom. You’re crazy and chaotic and spontaneous. You upset all my carefully laid plans and schedules. And I don’t care. I want you to convince me to leave work midday just so we can tour Notre Dame. I want to avoid the metro so we can dance in the rain. I like the man I am when I’m with you, and I can’t imagine life without you. I love you, Zoey. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I so desperately want that wedding yesterday to be real. Because I want this—
us
—to be forever.”

Butterflies were flapping their wings in her heart, and her mouth was completely dry.

He wanted her for her. He didn’t want to change her—he wanted them to change each other, but only in the best possible ways.

And she wanted that too. She liked the way she was more levelheaded when with Mitch, the way she could think before acting and sometimes hold back. Mitch made her a better version of herself. He wouldn’t change her—he’d improve her.

“Mitch,” she began.

He shook his head. “I know this feels really fast. I know it seems insane. But I’ve been thinking about it all night, and at the same time, it makes perfect sense.” He reached into his jacket and withdrew a folder.

A folder? Well, that wasn’t what she’d expected.

Slowly, Mitch opened the folder and withdrew a sheet of cream paper that looked heavy. He walked over to a small table and sat it down, then withdrew a fountain pen and placed it beside it.

“I want that wedding to be real,” he said. “I’m all in, Zoey.”

Zoey took a step forward on trembling legs. The document said
Certificat de Mariage
at the top, and had an official government seal just underneath. The butterflies in her chest beat their wings, and Zoey blinked, trying to clear her vision.

There, in thick black ink, was Mitch’s signature.

Tears sprang into her eyes, and Zoey looked up at Mitch, her hand at her throat. “You signed it,” she said.

“I meant what I said in our vows. Last night wasn’t pretend to me.”

He reached into his jacket and withdrew a small box, then flipped it open. Zoey gasped. Nestled inside was a rose-gold band with a large onyx stone, surrounded by little diamonds. “I know this is sudden, and maybe insane. But I’m asking you to take that risk. Be my wife.”

Zoey brought a shaking hand to her mouth. She couldn’t believe Mitch—pragmatic, levelheaded Mitch—was suddenly being so spontaneous. “You’re serious,” she whispered.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

She folded her arms, looking at the floor. “We’re so opposite.”

“But we balance each other out.”

“I’m not going to be a different person just because we’re married.”

“Good. I love you just the way you are.”

Zoey scuffed her toe along the ground. “I might drive you insane.”

He took a step forward. “Yes. You might. We
are
different from each other, and I know that life together won’t always be easy. But nothing worthwhile ever is, and our differences are what make us strong.”

She looked up, tears filling her eyes, and quickly blinked. “I’m still scared.”

“Me too. But it’s a good scared. I want to make yesterday permanent. What do you want, Zoey?”

She stared into his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt. But all she saw was love, and a promise she’d be an idiot not to accept.

Slowly, she picked up the pen. She heard Mitch suck in his breath, saw him freeze in her peripheral vision. The pen felt heavy in her hands, like the comforting weight of a hug.

She set the pen on the only blank line on the page. Then she signed with a flourish.

Mitch let out a whoop and swept her into his arms. Zoey laughed, the pen clattering to the floor as her feet left the ground. She wrapped her arms around Mitch, clinging to him.

He set her down and slipped the ring onto her finger. “I love you, Zoey Carlson,” he whispered. “Now and forever.”

“It’s Zoey Harris now.” She linked her arms around his neck, and a tear trickled down her cheek. “I love you, Mitch. I’ve loved you for so long, but I was so scared you wanted me to be someone I’m not.”

“Never. I want you exactly the way you are.”

“Sometimes you drive me absolutely crazy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want this for forever, too.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her close. Slowly, his lips descended toward hers. And somehow, this kiss felt different. Better. There was no uncertainty, no wondering whether it was real or fake.

This kiss was the start of the rest of her life.