“To be willingly going through the wedding planning process without even getting sex out of it?” Scott said. “Yeah. A little bit. Wait, you’re not getting sex out of it, are you?”

“No,” Clarke said.

“You don’t sound entirely pleased about that,” Oliver observed.

Clarke ignored this. He did not want to talk about sex. Or the fact that he wasn’t having any. Or the fact that he’d been thinking about it more than a teenage boy lately. To say nothing of the fact that the subject of his rather vivid fantasies was entirely off-limits.

“Did you at least get to taste cake?” Scott asked. “That was my favorite part.”

“I thought you and Claire eloped.”

“We did. I meant cake tasting at my first wedding. Well, almost wedding.”

“That’s right,” Clarke mused. “I forgot you guys were both engaged.”

Clarke didn’t know all the details, but if he was remembering correctly, Scott’s fiancée had cheated on him, and Oliver’s had bailed when she’d learned that being married to Oliver meant she’d also have to deal with his sick parents.

“Well, good news, you’ll soon be joining our club,” Oliver pointed out.

“What club?”

“The broken engagement club.”

“Ah,” Clarke said lightly.

Scott’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What was that?”

“What’s what?”

“You know what,” Oliver said, straightening. “That ‘ah’ was loaded.”

“It wasn’t.”

“You and Audrey are engaged for pretend, right?” Scott asked, frowning. “I didn’t miss some crucial development?”

“No, you’ve got it right,” Clarke said distractedly.

“Okay, I’ve heard the women’s version of why,” Oliver said, “but what’s your story. Something about your mom being sort of…”

“A bitch,” Scott said unabashedly. “No offense.”

“None taken. She can be.”

“And your ex, too, right? She and your mom are in cahoots trying to, what, rush you down the aisle?”

Liz’s plea whispered through Clarke’s mind. I miss you. But that little bombshell was nothing compared to the wallop his father had delivered hours later.

He and his father hadn’t spoken since the bizarre meeting in his office a few days earlier. Clarke had been half hoping it had all been a dream, that his father hadn’t actually dangled the company in front of him like a carrot to entice him down the aisle.

But though his father hadn’t pushed him on the issue, he also hadn’t retracted it.

Clarke was terrified—and quite certain—his father had meant every word. That York would be his if he and Audrey went through with the wedding.

The idea was preposterous and… not nearly as unappealing as it should have been.

“Can I have another?” Clarke asked Oliver, pointing at the beer bottle.

“Help yourself.”

“So who is this ex of yours?” Scott asked. “Anyone I know?”

“Elizabeth Milsap.”

Both men shook their heads.