3

Javier

I walked into my room, kinda nervous. The bathroom door was open a crack. I snuck a peek at Berry. She was supposed to be my wife—what?! This felt so weird. Not because she was young, but because I was married. I never pictured myself hitched.

She turned her head and gave me a soft smile. “What are you doing?”

I cleared my throat. “What are you doing?”

“Waxing my body, duh.” Berry winked and shut the door.

“Waxing her whole body? Some girls just shave. No wonder her skin’s so soft!” I muttered, shaking my head to snap out of it. Man, what’s wrong with me?

I went to the other bathroom for a quick shower, then picked a suit from my closet. A few minutes later, I came back to check on Berry. “Hey, you’re taking forever!” I groaned.

She walked over, twisting her hips in a sexy way, smiling like an angel. It took my breath away. “I’m ready, Javier. How do I look?”

“You look… like a girl!” My jaw dropped, then I raised my eyebrows.

Truth was, I didn’t know what to say. She looked amazing—cute, charming, beautiful. Words couldn’t cut it. It was like standing in a jungle between two big trees and dead flowers, with one rare, shiny white bloom in the middle. That’s what she was.

“I’m prettier than any other girl,” Berry said confidently, struggling to zip the back of her dress. Yeah, she sucked at that.

I laughed, stepped closer, and zipped it for her. She stared at me with those big, shiny blue eyes. I could see myself in them. “What? Stop looking at me like that!”

“You look so handsome, Javier! Sorry I’m wearing the same dress from last night. I don’t own fancy stuff—I’m not rich. And…” Berry stuttered.

“And what?” I raised an eyebrow.

“And I want to make a good impression! I don’t want your parents to hate me!” Berry sighed.

I pulled my hands away. “You’re my wife for a month, so use whatever I’ve got. My parents will love you.” I chuckled, then turned to leave the room.

*Actually, I’m scared I’ll be the one falling for you,* I thought to myself.

Suddenly, she jumped next to me and hooked her arm around mine like a cat. I turned my head. “What? I don’t like being touched, and I don’t want anyone knowing I’m married!” I huffed.

“Ouch! That hurts! I’m not trash! You’re married to me—for a month at least! Act like my husband!” Berry dragged me to the car.

She leaned against the car door and nodded toward it. “What? You’re not gonna open the door for me?” She pouted.

“Um, why? You’ve got two hands—open it yourself!” I muttered.

“Open it, or I’ll tell your mom!” Berry crossed her arms. Oh no, not Mom. I rushed over, opened the door, and forced a fake, annoyed smile.

“Now I know your weakness—your mom,” Berry said with a devilish smirk.

“Huh! I just love her. I’m not scared. I’m a well-raised guy!” I mumbled and started driving.

Mom had sent the restaurant location. She hadn’t called, which freaked me out. I didn’t need more stress, so I kept quiet and didn’t look at Berry.

“Hey, stop here!” Berry yelled. I slammed the brakes, tires screeching.

“What? Did I hit something?” My jaw dropped.

“No, park! I need to buy something. I can’t meet your parents empty-handed!” Berry hopped out without looking back.

We were in the middle of the street! I rubbed my ear—she screamed so loud I could’ve gone deaf.

I parked and followed her. It was a flower shop. I watched her pick out flowers, looking super happy. Why? No clue. “I buy flowers here every day,” Berry said with a huge smile.

“For your boyfriend?” I teased.

“Yes!” she smirked. Honestly, that bugged me. Why keep bringing him up like I’m invisible? Then why’d she marry me last night?

She grabbed the flowers, and we headed back to the car. I opened her door. “Guess I’ll get used to this,” I muttered.

“What do you think? I love white flowers. Do you like flowers, Javier?” Berry stared at me.

“Kinda, but not real ones. To me, every girl’s like a flower. That’s why I pick a new one all the time. Each has her own vibe, like a different scent,” I explained. That’s just who I am—why lie? This marriage was temporary anyway.

“That’s awful! Flowers mean love. You give them to the one person in your heart. Doesn’t matter how many—one can be perfect,” Berry huffed.

I nodded, not because I agreed, but because I don’t believe in love.

So I changed the subject. “Why flowers, then? You’re not in love with my parents. You haven’t met them!” I smirked.

“I don’t have money for anything expensive. I used every penny in my purse on these,” Berry sighed, twisting her fingers and staring at the flowers.

Wow, was she that broke? It’s just flowers! How old is she? What does she do? Where are her parents? I had a ton of questions, but I’d wait. Mom would grill her the second we sat down at the restaurant.