Kate looked Lucas over from head to toe; he squirmed, feeling he’d somehow failed the examination. “The tux won’t fit. You’re taller; your shoulders are broader. We’d have to get you fitted quickly. Mr. Lavitz is a good friend of yours, isn’t he?”

“Well, yeah . . .”

“The marriage license might be a problem.” She tapped her foot and chewed on the side of her lip, her eyes searching the buzzing fluorescent fixtures for answers. “And we’d need an exit strategy. Maybe a year? Give my book time to succeed and give me time to get another book going. We could get a quiet divorce . . .”

Her eyes closed. “I can’t believe I’m talking about marriage like this. Like it’s a cheap business arrangement. God hates divorce. I hate divorce.”

Of course, if Lucas had his way, the marriage would never end. And if they went through with it, he’d do everything in his power . . .

Lucas watched her face as she wrestled with her principles. “He backed you into a corner,” he said. “It’s not like you have so many appealing options.”

She looked at him suddenly, her brows pulling together. “Why are you doing this again?”

Why? Why? How could she help him? She was a marriage counselor, but he wasn’t married—yet. His parents’ marriage was solid enough, though they loved to fuss at each other. Everyone knew it was just who they were, but an outsider might think . . .

“Lucas? I’m running out of time here.”

“My parents’ marriage. If you could help them.”

Her eyes brightened. Ah, he’d hit the bull’s-eye.

“It’s in jeopardy?” she asked.

He cleared his throat. Stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “They fight a lot lately.” He needed more, but he didn’t want to lie. “My mom left for a few days last month.” On a girls’ weekend trip, but Kate didn’t have to know that. “Jamie—she’s my little sister—said Dad enjoyed her absence.” He’d actually said he enjoyed having Jamie all to himself. But that was close enough, wasn’t it? Guilt stabbed at him.

“And you want me to counsel them?”

“No.” The word came out a little sharp. “They’re both leery of all that psychobabble stuff.” Her eyebrows rose, and he rephrased. “You’d have to be sly about it. Get to know them. Get them to open up. You can handle it.”

“That’s it? That’s all you want?”

He wanted much more, but it was a start. “It’s my parents’ marriage.”

“Of course. I didn’t mean to make it sound trite.” Kate steepled her fingers and tapped the tips together. “I don’t even know if this is possible. I think there’s a waiting period on the marriage license.”