Best Friend Bride. Kat Cantrell

name at the Department of Motor Vehicles, and soon, she’d have a new driver’s license that said she had the legal right to call herself that. By design. His sense of honor wouldn’t permit him to outright lie about his relationship with Viv; therefore, she was Mrs. Kim in every sense of the word.

      Except one.

      The concept was surreal. As surreal as the idea that she was his wife and he could introduce her as such to anyone who asked.

      Except for himself apparently because he was having a hard time thinking of her that way no matter how many times he repeated the word wife when he glimpsed her through the archway leading to the kitchen. Boxes upon boxes covered every inch of the granite countertops, and though she’d been working on unpacking them for an hour, it looked like she’d barely made a dent.

      He should quit skulking around and get in there to help. But he hadn’t because he couldn’t figure out how to manage the weird vibe that had sprung up between them.

      That kiss.

      It had opened up a Pandora’s box that he didn’t know how to close. Before, he’d had a sort of objective understanding that Viv was a beautiful woman whose company he enjoyed.

      Ever since the ceremony, no more. There was a thin veil of awareness that he couldn’t shake. But he needed to. They were living together as friends because she’d agreed to a favor that didn’t include backing her up against the counter so he could explore her lush mouth.

      He liked Viv. Add a previously undiscovered attraction and she was exactly the kind of woman he’d studiously avoided for nearly a decade. The kind he could easily envision taking him deeper and deeper until he was emotionally overwhelmed enough to give up everything.

      The problem of course being that he couldn’t stop calling her, like he usually did with women who threatened his vow. He’d married this one.

      He was being ridiculous. What was he, seventeen? He could handle a little spark between friends, right? Best way to manage that was to ignore it. And definitely not let on that he’d felt something other than friendly ever since kissing her.

      All he and Viv had to do was live together until he could convince his grandfather to go through with the merger anyway. Once the two companies signed agreements, neither would back out and Jonas was home free. Since he was covering Viv’s rent until then, she could move back into her apartment at that point.

      This plan would work, and soon enough, he could look back on it smugly and pinpoint the exact moment when he’d outsmarted his grandfather.

      Casually, he leaned on the exposed-brick column between the dining room and the kitchen and crossed his arms like everything was cool between them. It would be cool. “What can I do?”

      Viv jerked and spun around to face him, eyes wide. “You scared me. Obviously.”

      Her nervous laugh ruffled his spine. So they were both feeling the weirdness, but it was clearly different weirdness on her side than on his. She was jumpy and nervous, not hot and bothered. He had not seen that coming. That was...not good. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to. We’ve both been living alone for so long that I guess we have to get through an adjustment period.”

      Which was the opposite of what he’d expected. They’d always been so relaxed with each other. How could they get back to that?

      She nodded. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been telling myself.”

      Was it that bad? Her forlorn voice tripped something inside him and it was not okay that she was uncomfortable around him now. “Best way to adjust is to spend time together. Let me help you put away these...” He grabbed a square glass dish from the counter. “Pans?”

      “Pyrex.” She smiled and it seemed like it came easier. “I can’t imagine you care anything about where I put my bakeware.”

      He waggled his brows. “That depends on whether that’s something you use to make cupcakes or not.”

      Her cupcakes weren’t like the store-bought ones in the hard plastic clamshells. Those tasted like sugared flour with oily frosting. Viv’s lemon cupcakes—a flavor he’d never have said he’d like—had a clean, bright taste like she’d captured lemonade in cake form.

      “It’s not. Casseroles.”

      “Not a fan of those.” He made a face before he thought better of it.

      Maybe she loved casseroles and he was insulting her taste. And her cooking skills. But he’d never said one word about her whipping up dinner for him each night, nor did he expect her to. She knew that. Right?

      They had so much to learn about each other, especially if they were going to make this marriage seem as real as possible to everyone, except select few people they could trust, like Warren and Hendrix. If word got back to his grandfather that something wasn’t kosher, the charade would be over.

      And he’d invested way too much in this marriage to let it fail now.

      His phone beeped from his pocket, and since the CEO never slept, he handed over the glass dish to check the message.

      Grandfather. At 6:00 a.m. Seoul time. Jonas tapped the message. All the blood drained from his head.

      “Jonas, what’s wrong?” Viv’s palm came to rest on his forearm and he appreciated the small bit of comfort even as it stirred things it shouldn’t.

      “My grandfather. My dad told him that we got married.” Because Jonas had asked him to. The whole point had been to circumvent his grandfather’s arranged-marriage plan. But this—

      “Oh, no. He’s upset, isn’t he?” Viv worried her lip with her teeth, distracting him for a moment.

      “On the contrary,” Jonas spit out hoarsely. “He’s thrilled. He’s so excited to meet you, he got on a plane last night. He’s here. In Raleigh. Best part? He talked my dad into having a house party to welcome you into the family. This weekend.”

      It was a totally unforeseen move. Wily. He didn’t believe for a second that his grandfather was thrilled with Jonas’s quick marriage or that the CEO of one of the largest conglomerates in Korea had willingly walked away from his board meetings to fly seven thousand miles to meet his new granddaughter-in-law.

      This was something else. A test. An “I’ll believe it when I see it.” Maybe Grandfather scented a whiff of the truth and all it would take was one slipup before he’d pounce. If pressed, Jonas would feel honor bound to be truthful about Viv’s role. The marriage could be history before dark.

      A healthy amount of caution leaped into Viv’s expression. “This weekend? As in we have two days to figure out how to act like a married couple?”

      “Now you’re starting to see why my face looks like this.” He swirled an index finger near his nose, unbelievably grateful that she had instantly realized the problem. “Viv, I’m sorry. I had no idea he was going to do this.”

      The logistics alone... How could he tell his mom to give them separate bedrooms when they were essentially still supposed to be in the honeymoon phase? He couldn’t. It was ludicrous to even think in that direction when what he should be doing was making a list of all the ways this whole plan was about to fall apart. So he could mitigate each and every one.

      “Hey.”

      Jonas glanced up as Viv laced her fingers with his as if she’d done it many times, when in fact she hadn’t. She shouldn’t. He liked it too much.

      “I’m here,” she said, an echo of her sentiment at the wedding ceremony. “I’m not going anywhere. My comment wasn’t supposed to be taken as a ‘holy cow how are we going to do this.’ It was an ‘oh, so we’ve got two days to figure this out.’ We will.”

      There was literally no way to express how crappy that made him feel. Viv was such a trouper, diving into this marriage without any thought to herself and her own sense of comfort and propriety. He already owed her so much. He couldn’t ask her to