“Y ou're a genius,” I tell Cal, smacking him on the shoulder. He's just told me his plans for the firm's next big marketing push. “Fuck me, we're going to be rich. Richer, I mean. I can see us clawing back what we spent on the security upgrades in a month. Then it's pure profit .”

It's smart. Deceptively simple. It would've sounded good even if it weren't accompanied by the most savory elk sausages in the world hissing their aroma into the night, speared on our sticks over the fire .

“You're welcome. We spent a fortune making things right after those damn hacks. I'm just glad it's smooth sailing from here.” He looks at me, bright blue eyes glowing, pushing the dark hair up over his forehead. He's been growing it out since the wedding, giving him that sort of wizened look men get when they settle into family life. “You're a huge asshole, by the way .”

“Me?” I thumb my chest, puzzled as hell .

“Yeah, bro. You think we want to talk business all night instead of this girl you're screwing?” Spence pushes his sausage deeper into the fire, completely charring it. I'll never understand how he savors the black, bitter end like it's an ice cream sandwich on a California day, but to each their own. “More than screwing, I should say. Why the fuck didn't you say it was serious ?”

Because up until Iceland, it wasn't. I don't have the heart to admit I played the same dumb game Cal did with Maddie, before they got real .

Wait. Played? My brain is stuck on past-tense, too. Another reminder I'm more serious than I care to admit about marrying this girl next week. That's scary .

“I wasn't sure how to break the news, guys. Hell, I'm still trying .”

“Dude, you're over-thinking,” Cal says, plinking his canteen on the rock in front of us, and filling it half full of scotch. “Come on, Cade. Admit it. You've fallen head over heels if you're this torn up talking about her .”

“Your mom's heels,” I growl, smiling like a fool. Spence chortles over my shoulder. Whenever we're away from the office, we regress back to the seventeen year old shitheads we used to be at Maynard. “You want to know the truth? Fine. I'm getting married in about a week .”

“That's –“ Cal chokes on his scotch, spitting a mouthful on the ground .

“Holy shit!” Spence's jaw drops. “You glorious bastard, now I'm really pissed. Making me the odd man out on all our future outings while you two prattle on about your wives and kids? Fuck you, Turnbladt .”

I'm laughing. Cal tackles me first, but Spence isn't far behind. He crashes on top of us both .

It's ridiculous. I just dropped the biggest news of my life, and here we are rolling on Alaskan soil like a trio of five year olds drunk on pixie sticks .

These guys are complete pricks sometimes, and even harder to work with, but goddamn, do I love them .

The feeling must be mutual. They don't ease up until I kick them off, wearing a face full of rich dirt. We're fleshy targets for whatever bears are waiting out there in the night, stomachs growling each time they sniff our camp. Good thing the ruckus we're making would frighten away Lucifer .

“Guys, come on, let me breathe,” I say, coming up for air .

Cal whacks me across the face again, playfully, and nods at Spence. They pin my wrists to the ground. “No. Not unless you tell us we get a chance to meet the unlucky lady before the rehearsal dinner. Maddie also needs another girl she can squawk about chick-shit with. She's got baby fever and it's only getting worse after her work ends in China, and she's back here full time ...”

“My heart's bleeding for you, bro,” Spence says. “Knocking up your wife. What torture .”

“Like you'd know anything about pussy that actually counts.” Cal glares. “Let's not get distracted. We're having words with Cade, and I'm far from done .”

“Nah, I think you are, Calvin.” Spence lets go and dive bombs Cal in the chest .

I'm up on my feet, sensing an escape, still laughing my ass off. It's their turn to tear into each other like teenagers again .

Five minutes later, we're licking our very adult wounds, sitting on the logs, breaking into the stuff for s'mores. Soon, the night smells sticky sweet, roasting marshmallows speared on sticks releasing their perfume. I reach into the bag behind me and pull out the small box wrapped in gold, then fling it onto Cal's lap .

“Here you go, birthday boy. It's not the keys to a new toy, so don't get too excited .”

Spence and I unpack our chocolate and graham crackers while he digs through wrapping paper. I bound it extra tight, and it's the kind that doesn't tear easy, asshole friend that I am .

Cal eyeballs both of us with a sideways glare. He's used to it by now. The gifts we give are either heartwreckers or stupid gags. There's no point in anything else when we're three rich guys in our prime, each of us able to afford whatever material fun our hearts desire .

“What the hell is this?” he growls, opening the box, pulling out the broken piece of wood inside. “Is it...no fucking way !”

“Way. That's a piece of the fishing lure we lost years ago, that time we took your old man's boat out with your brother, John. We were all like fifteen. I've been holding onto it for years .”

“What the hell? John was pissed. Told me we'd lost it when Spence caught that thing on the buoy, and ripped the line.” His older brother was our chaperone. That was before the deadly day in Afghanistan that cost him his life, another tragedy turning my buddy's life upside-down .

“He was totally busting your balls,” Spence says, smiling in the corner. “You're so gullible, Randolph. We laughed about it later with him, when he told us your parents grounded you over it. Cost you the date with what's her face – the slutty girl Cade wound up boning .”

“You mean the one I almost broke your nose over?” We're all cringing for different reasons .

Cal because he pretended to be the older, wiser one who stopped us from fighting over the same pussy he wanted to get his young dick wet in. Spence because he missed out. Me, because I actually had her. Just thinking about that skank today makes me realize how stupid, blind, and lost I was once upon a time .

None of my conquests were Skye .

They wore their designer lipstick like all the rich girls who went to Maynard. They were trial runs for the women who came later; faceless, greedy bitches I took to bed and never called twice. I fucked through a small harem with the same excitement as hitting the gym after awhile because I could, and because my body needed sex to function .

But I never felt the spark I did with her, Ms. Grey Eyed Cotton Candy. My smiling, sexy rainbow spitfire waiting back home .

How was I ever so stupid? Then I look at the two men who knew me in those days, and I remember, because they were the same .

“Yeah, well, you lost your v-card to her and freaked over having the clap a week later,” Spence says, driving in the screws. “Can't say I missed much .”

“Fuck you, it was a bladder infection. Bad timing.” I'm completely serious .

The last thing a clueless boy needs is his innards lighting up a couple days after he's had his first time – and being dumb enough to think he could still get rusty after wrapping it up. “Anyway, this one's from both of us, Cal. Might not have remembered I still had it if this asshole hadn't brought it up. This seemed like the perfect occasion.” I nod Spence's way .

“Man tears, assholes. Thanks a lot.” Cal only exaggerates a little. He stands, walks over, and forces us to sit close with one arm slung over each of us. “I'm serious. If John is anywhere, he's looking down from those northern lights, laughing at what we've become. Married men, muckity-mucks richer than our parents, idiots or geniuses who are about to start families...he never got the chance. But somewhere, I know he's happy .”

I'm the first to grab the scotch off the flat boulder next to us, but Spence was reaching, too. We each take a swig and do our own little toast to Cal's fallen brother .

He was older, never as close as the three of us, but I think of him a lot. Doesn't tear me up like Cal, his own flesh and blood. Still hits me between the ribs a different way .

John Randolph's death is a reminder – the messiest kind .

Life is brutal. Unfair. Twisted .

It'll gnaw you up and spit you out if you give it half a chance, if you don't come ready for every day alive. Now, thanks to Skittle, I know it'll do it anyway without something worth holding onto, worth finding and loving so hard it lights your blood on fire .

I've found it in her .

Cal's not the only one a little choked up, taking his turn at the bottle, thumbing the old lure in his hand. On his other side, Spence stares off into the wild starry night. Green and gold and blue break through the shifting sky above us. It's aurora borealis in all her majesty .

I don't know what's up with him. Maybe I've got a better idea what's running through Cal's brain, but I'll never experience it like he does .

I just know me. I know myself too well. I know what's coming the second I step off my jet in Seattle again, and head home to the paradise I've found in her arms .

I can't fuck around .

This girl who's got my diamond and a big sappy piece of my heart deserves the stone cold truth. She deserves better than a fake ass wedding and a bunch of legalese asking her to fake it .

She needs real, and I need a wife .

More than a one night bride I hired to fix family trouble .

God willing, when I get down on one knee and pop the question like a man who's always been smitten from day fucking one, she'll say yes .

* * *

W e've barely texted since I got on the plane. I asked her if everything was all right, and she told me not to worry. A few things to talk about when you get back, she said .

No details. No explanation. Nothing .

Sure, it makes me worry a little, but I'm on the plane, anxious and fully committed to doing what I planned .

Nate is parked on the curb like clockwork, a smile on his face and a spring in his step. “Welcome home, sir,” he says, opening the door .

I slide in and tell him to take me to Skye. No, I don't care if she's home, at the school, or dog watching in the fucking park .

We need to talk now. I need to get this out of my system. Just like I need to pull that ring off her, without shoving it back on her finger unless she's decided it belongs there .

No more denial. I want to wife Skye Coyle for real .

Nate knows the score. He ferries me across Seattle and parks on one of the bustling campus streets. I head for her building, a hopeful beat in my heart and a spring in my step .

Remember what you practiced on the plane, asshole. This is it. No do-overs .

I'm grateful there's nobody else around in the archeology department when I find her behind the glass door. She's got her back to me, gloves on, brushing off a palm-sized bust underneath a bright white lamp .

She gasps when I come up behind her, brace my arms around her waist, pulling her into me. Lips on her ear, I start the words I'm hellbent on getting perfect .

“I'm here. Couldn't wait for you to get home, Skittle.” She twists in my grasp, laying a reflexive hand on my arm. “Not yet. Don't turn around. Stay right there. Just give me your hand. There's something important I need .”

I can't figure out why she's so tense. There's no fight in her, but there's an electric resistance. I grab her palm, lay it across mine, and reach for the ring with my free hand. It comes off easy. For a second, I stand there like an idiot, relishing her heat, asking for its courage before the most important thirty seconds of my life .

I don't expect the crying before I'm even on my knee, whispering the words. “Turn around, beautiful .”

Skye's breath catches in her lungs, harsh and sweet. I practically feel the current running through her .

I definitely don't expect the eyes. Rather than the happy smiling sheen I expect over her soft greys, they're ghostly, sad, poisoned. If I were a lesser man, it'd stop me in my tracks .

Doesn't make any sense. If she knows what's coming, then why the hell does she look so upset ?

Doesn't she want this as bad as I do? Christ .

There's only one way to find out .

“We started as a lie,” I say, reaching for her hand, grasping it like gold in mine. “Then crazy happened. These months we've had together, Skittle, they've been the best time of my life. I'd be a fool to walk away, pretend it didn't happen, try to find it anywhere else, or with anybody, but the only woman I'll ever need is standing right in front of me .”

Shit, shit. Her lips are trembling now. She's either about to explode, showering joy, or lay into me like the world's biggest jackass for doing this .

Grandpa had a saying, an old Icelandic one: Faint heart never won fair lady .

Mine is beating now. Pounding every manly, take-no-prisoners molecule of me numb, turning my blood to venom, and I'm still not backing down .

“There it is. The reason I'm here today, on my knees, asking you for...shit, is any of this making sense? Maybe it isn't clear.” I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and squeeze until I feel her pulse. “I love you, woman. Loved you some kind of crazy even before the day we hiked up that mountain, overlooking the castle we're supposed to save, and I knew it was about more. You deserve better than a fake engagement and a rushed wedding. We deserve better, Skye. Do me the greatest honor of my life: marry me .”

Her tremors are worse. The storm in her eyes breaks, and the tears come, harsher than any happy ones ever should be. I'm so fucking stunned I can't say anything, squeezing her hand off, waiting for her to open those beautiful lips, and give me a sentence .

More than words, I mean, sentence in every sense of the word. Sweet, maddening judgment .

“Cade, I want to...I want to so bad...you don't even know.” Her voice goes ragged. My eyes are double moons, big and pleading, waiting for the rest .

Fuck, please. Please, no buts .

She's sobbing, choking on a grief I don't understand, like she's watching someone she loves bleed out in front of her. I grab her other hand, pressing the ring into her palm, catching her before she falls. We stand like that, me halfway up, face-to-face and mortally wounded .

I have to pull it out of her. “What's wrong, Skittle? Tell me the truth. What's keeping you from saying yes ?”

“I can't do this, Cade. We can't. It's a terrible idea.” It comes out fast, a quick moving dagger lancing my heart. “I'm sorry. If this were different, if it wasn't so complicated, then of course I'd say – no. No. Don't make me do this. Please, Cade. I'm so, so fucking sorry .”

Tears spill down her face, melting on the beat up lab floor beneath us. Once I'm sure she's able to stand, I raise myself up, and take her with me, jerking her into my arms. She's fighting and whimpering and I don't care .

Nothing about this makes any fucking sense .

“This isn't you. What's the real reason? Is it the man Vinnie mentioned? The asshole friend who had you in debt? Is that what's stopping you from being happy ?”

Whoever he is, I want him dead. There's a raw, vicious hatred in my blood, the kind that snakes through my guts in such a violent rush it makes me sick. I catch myself on her wild, frantic eyes. They tell the truth, even if her sweet tongue can't .

“Cade –“

“No, Skittle. No. I need answers, not excuses. I ripped my heart out and practically threw it at you. You want this, I can see it in your eyes, and nothing should come between us. What's stealing my yes? What's between us? What's your problem? Because if it's him, if he's got something hanging over you, it's my fucking problem, too. I don't care what it takes to make it go away. Talk to me !”

“Cade...” She sniffs harder, blotting at her eyes with her fingertips, looking away. “Cade, please ...”

The blackness drowning her pupils says it all. Don't make this harder .

I won't listen. I don't know what this is, and I sure as hell won't let it ruin the future we're supposed to have, the one begging to come out in her strained, confused gaze .

“You don't have to be afraid as long as I'm here. For you, for your brother, for us, I'll do whatever it takes, Skittle. If you want me to get down on my knees again right now and write it in blood, I fucking will, and –“

“Cade!” Her shrillness is the only reason I stop. Then I take a long, hard look at the desperate frustration burning away in her, the pain written on every pinched line of her face. “Just shut up for a second. Listen. We can't do this. There are a million reasons why, but what it really comes down to is simple. What's happening is all on me, and no, I'm not interested in talking details. So, please. Please. Stop making me your problem. I don't need you, and neither does Vinnie. We'll handle it like we always have. I'll pay back the money and move on. I don't want your damn job or your money, Cade. It's over. I'm sorry .”

Whatever I expected, it wasn't this .

This shit is apocalyptic .

She's so cold, despite the tears. It's like she's been working up to this for a long time. My battered ego snaps. Skye just rattled off everything she's trying to shut out, but the biggest part of all is missing .

“And what about love, Skittle? You want to stand here and tell me you don't need that, too ?”

I give her an entire minute. She doesn't answer. I wait in the silence, expecting her to crack, to tell me everything that's corroding her heart so we can fix it, work this out together, just like we're meant to .

But I'm left holding ice when she turns around, without so much as a second look, and stares into that fancy long lab mirror behind her, avoiding my eyes .

I'm willing to take plenty of punishment, but I'm not a stupid man, or a patient one .

Today, all the demands, hopes, and prayers in the world won't put a dent in the glacial fucking wall she's built, and turned into concrete .

“Just go,” she whispers, voice as low and weak as rustling leaves. “Leave me. You'll hear from me soon to discuss my stuff in your place, and Vinnie...just leave him to me. We'll be out of your life soon .”

No more. I can't take it. The thought of talking those details right now when she's ripped herself away from me, when I thought I'd caress that cotton candy hair and spend the rest of my life taming those lips...fuck .

I turn, storming down the hall. I don't stop when I nearly crash into the bottle-eyed professor coming down the hall, or when my ears absorb the smothered sobs coming from the lab room. I don't even look back when I hear the crash on the ground, and Skittle swearing, slapping the ground with her palm as she reaches to salvage whatever treasure our private hell just destroyed .

I can't believe she doesn't get it .

Her ignorance defeats me .

Her denial shreds my soul .

Her lies – I mean whatever the fuck she had to tell herself to seal truth deep inside her – is cold blooded murder .

Why is the heaviest load of all. It's crushing me from the inside out when I get to the car and slam the door shut, without saying a word to Nate .

And grappling with it longer won't help because it doesn't do anything to change the new bitch of a reality we've just stepped into, sick to its very core .

If something else doused our paradise in kerosene, then Skye just threw the match. That's what I can't get over .

I'm the helpless bastard watching Eden burn .

We could have faced anything together .

Secrets were the only flaw in our armor, and she just chose them over me .

My fingernails dig into the leather armrest, leaving permanent marks, and I flick the switch for the intercom, ordering Nate to drive us to my favorite watering hole. “Let it burn,” I say to myself softly, spoiling for a bar fight and a hot joint. Two damning, childish things I haven't had since high school, when I used to sneak into the dark places meant for Seattle's roughnecks, and do the typical stuff that comes natural for edgy kids .

My edge today is so harsh it could cut the world in half .

There's no fixing this, and no escape from the humiliation, the agony, the hell to come .

I might as well get a jump start fucking up my head, before making any rash decisions. It's guaranteed to be a simmering chaos over the next week, while I try to figure out how I live without Skye Coyle, or how to drag her back to me kicking and screaming .