Milo jerked in surprise when Bryson grabbed his hand and yanked him toward the man's truck. He didn't argue. Milo wanted out of here. He hurried along next to the big guy, thankful they were leaving.

"Bryson, wait," Clayton called out but Bryson ignored the guy. He slipped into the driver's seat. Milo scrambled to get into the passenger side because Bryson had the truck started and was pulling away even before Milo had his door closed.

"Those rotten sons of bitches," Bryson cursed, his anger arcing in the air around them. "I can't believe they had the audacity to stand there and say shit like that."

Milo kept quiet. Bryson was furious and a very big man. Milo didn't know the cowboy all that well, and he wasn't taking any chances. He might be ticked off at Harland and Clayton, but his ire paled in comparison to Bryson's seething anger.

Bryson gripped the steering wheel so tightly the blood left his knuckles. "They can shove their pity up their collective asses."

Milo snapped his seat belt into place. "What about my car?"

"We'll go back and get it when I lose the urge to strangle those guys."

As he sat there, Milo rubbed his hands down his thighs, trying to rid his palms of their moisture. "Were you serious about getting married?"

Bryson glanced at him, his deep-grey eyes blazing. Maybe Milo would just sit there and play mute.

"Yes." Bryson let go of a long breath. "And please don't think I'm mad at you."

"Why are you mad at them?" Milo asked. "They're your friends and they're just worried about you from what I could see. Their protests were justifiable. You just told them that you were marrying someone you hardly know."

"That's not it," Bryson said, but he didn't elaborate, so Milo left it alone for now. Maybe they would discuss things when the man cooled down.

As they passed the trailer park, Milo asked, "Where are we going?"

A deep blush washed over Bryson's cheeks and the shy man Milo remembered returned. This was the Bryson Milo had found himself falling for. He knew that Bryson could be hard as nails when he needed to be, but it was the softer, more playful side that Milo loved being around.

"We're going to get married."

Milo gaped at Bryson. "Now, right this second?"

The man's wide shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Why not? I have a friend who will hitch us with no questions asked."

Even though Milo knew why they were doing this, the thought of marrying Bryson had his head spinning as he panted out small gasps of breath.

Playing at being Bryson's husband wasn't a hardship. The man was everything Milo liked in a guy.

But for Milo, marriage was a big step, a huge commitment-one he wasn't sure he was ready for. This wasn't a real marriage, though. It was a way to keep Quinn from forcing Milo to marry Drake.

With that knowledge, the need to full-out panic subsided. It was just a harmless piece of paper, right?

It was eight in the morning before Bryson reached his destination-a jewelry store close to the chapel he was taking Milo to. Milo was passed out next to him, splayed out like he'd been ridden hard and hung up to dry. The guy was even slightly drooling.

Bryson cut the motor and just sat there, staring down at the human. It amazed him that he'd gone from being afraid of asking Milo out to buying wedding bands, all in under a week.

Things were moving so fast his head spun.

But his bear told him that Milo was his mate. Bryson just hoped like hell the creature knew what it was talking about.

Milo roused, his eyelids fluttering open as he yawned and stretched. "Why did we stop?" He moved his mouth around as if he had hair on his tongue before wiping the drool away.

"We landed on Mars," Bryson teased, smiling at how unkempt Milo appeared. Was this how the guy looked in the morning?

Milo sat up and peeked out of the window. He frowned. "Where exactly are we?"

The owner of the store pulled into the driveway and then got out, locking his car before heading to the door.

"We can't exactly get married without rings." Bryson had been staring at his left hand for an hour before Milo woke up. He had tried to imagine what it would look like decorated with a wedding band.

Doubt had also started to creep into his mind through the night. He'd been so gung-ho on making sure Milo's father couldn't force the guy into an arranged marriage that he really hadn't thought this through.

Was this what people called cold feet? Bryson considered himself a nice guy, but he was hardly a sap or a pushover. He needed to be sure he wasn't doing this out of nave romanticism.

His entire adult life Bryson had been in love with the idea of marriage. He just hadn't inserted a groom anywhere in those fantasies.

Until now.

He had to admit that the allure of finally living out his dream was part of the reason he'd been quick to suggest this plan. But was he doing this for Milo or because he wanted to be married, to have someone to come home to? How far off the mark were his friends? Was he so stubborn that he hadn't seen that they'd been right about his jealously toward them?

Bryson had asked himself these questions the entire ride here and he still didn't have an answer. Maybe he was looking too deeply into this. How hard could it be to pretend he was Milo's husband?

"Why do you look like your life is about to end?" Milo asked sullenly. "I told you, we don't have to do this."

And that was why he had to. Milo wasn't twisting Bryson's arm. The man wasn't begging for Bryson to help him. The human was protesting just as much as Bryson's brain was.

He was seven kinds of confused.

Milo's lips twisted as if gathering his defenses. "Just take me home. I have to check on Elyse. She could go into labor any day now and I want to be there for her."

"No," Bryson said. "We're good."

"No," Milo answered. "We're not. You don't want to do this. I can see it in your eyes. God, please don't make this harder than it already is. Just take me home."

Why on earth was Bryson feeling guilty? It was as if he'd just let Milo down. What little headway he'd made with the guy shattered, a chasm growing between them.

"Look, Milo." Bryson sighed, pulling himself together. "This isn't about us deciding to spend the rest of our lives with each other." The part of Bryson who wanted someone special in his life yearned for this to be so much more. "We're doing this to protect you from your father. Friends help each other out, right?"

Milo hesitated. "I don't want to be a burden. I know what it's like to live a life you really don't want to. I can't do that to you."

Bryson was tired of analyzing this. If he was going to marry Milo, he better do it while he still had the nerve. He got out of the truck, heading toward the door of the jewelry store. When Milo just sat there, Bryson said, "You coming?"

Despite his trepidation, he smiled when Milo got out of the truck. Things were going to work out. They both knew what they were getting into.

Despite his resolve to go through with this, Milo was a quivering mess. He had fought the idea of marriage when Quinn had told him he was marrying Drake.

Now here he stood in this small chapel with only three pews and a tiny raised dais, saying his vows with Bryson. How had his life taken such a drastic turn? Milo wasn't sure about anything, least of all marriage.

But he sucked it up and smiled when the plump preacher who sweated an awful lot and had a bit of a stutter told them they could kiss. Milo had tasted Bryson before. They had shared a moment like this twice, but he wasn't prepared for the raw, aching need that swept over him when Bryson's mouth descended upon his. The passion that filled the kiss had Milo's head spinning.

Bryson cupped the back of his head, tilting Milo back as his tongue swept into Milo's mouth, claiming him, stamping ownership all over Milo.

That was what it felt like.

The man even growled a little as he molested Milo's lips right there in front of the preacher. But Milo was so caught up in Bryson that he didn't really care. He hadn't expected to feel so many emotions. This was just a scam, a con to keep Quinn at bay.

So why did Milo feel like it was so much more?

When the two came up for air, Milo was panting, his cock hard. He was embarrassed as hell that the preacher was standing there. It felt a bit sinful to have so much lust coursing through him when a man of the cloth was present.

"I hope you two have a happy and wonderful life," the preacher said.

Milo cleared his throat, giving the man an awkward smile as Bryson shook the guy's hand. He felt like a fake, a phony, someone who didn't deserve to have any good fortune. He'd fooled a preacher.

How low had he sunk?

"Ready?" Bryson asked.

The ring on Milo's finger felt like it weighed a ton as he nodded and walked out of the small chapel with his husband.

His husband.

Milo was going to be sick.

Not because he'd married Bryson. The man was amazing for doing this. No, Milo was going to be sick because he'd just pulled an innocent man into his twisted life. Now Bryson was going to be a target for Quinn.

How could he have done something like this to the sweet cowboy?

"Are you okay?" Bryson led Milo to the truck, opening the passenger door for him. "You look a bit ill."

"I think it was the burritos we ate." Now he was lying to the man. Great. "I'll be fine."

To his chagrin, Bryson was beaming. Why was he beaming? This was a fake marriage, yet Bryson looked as happy as a puppy with a new toy.

"You know," Bryson said as he got in and started the motor. "In order to keep up the pretense, you might want to consider moving into the Triple-B ranch."

Milo stiffened as his insides froze. He liked his independence. He liked having a place of his own where he could do what he wanted when he wanted. He'd finally gotten out from under Quinn. Milo wasn't ready to give up his freedom just yet. "I'll think about it."

He had lived on his own before moving to Bear County, but Quinn had still been a constant in his life. But now that his father wasn't near him, Milo finally knew what it was like to be free.

Only he had just gotten married.

Milo stared out of the window as Bryson drove them back to Bear County. The silence between them was deafening. He didn't know what to say. "Thanks for marrying me. I owe you one" didn't sound right even in his own mind.

So he sat there in silence as the miles ticked by.

When Bryson finally pulled up in front of Milo's home, Milo couldn't get out of the truck fast enough. He felt like a genuine jerk for ditching the man, but he hadn't been able to breathe since they'd gotten hitched. "I'll see you later."

Bryson nodded before he took off.

Milo just stood there, watching as the cowboy drove away. He wasn't sure why, but disappointment filled him. What had he expected? The marriage wasn't real so there wouldn't be a honeymoon, no sex, and no hot passion shared between them.

His shoulders slumped as he walked inside and set his keys on the counter. His home felt cold, desolate. Milo tried to shake off the emptiness that lodged inside of him, but it did no good.

He missed Bryson already.

Elyse meowed, brushing herself around Milo's leg. He sank to the floor and pulled her into his lap, hugging the cat close. "What have I done, Elyse?"

The cat didn't reply and Milo hadn't expected her to. She just cocked her head to the side, as if listening to what he had to say was important. Milo leaned his back into the island, looking up toward the ceiling as a lone tear streaked down his face.

All he'd wanted was to get away from Quinn, but it seemed like his life just continued to go downhill. He'd run from one mess only to create another.

"Do you think he hates me now?" he asked the cat lounging on his lap. "He has to. I've tied him down and I don't even know him."

Then an idea struck Milo. This didn't have to be a disaster. He could get to know Bryson. If nothing else, they could become really good friends. Milo didn't want any hard feelings between them, and he wanted to let Bryson know that as soon as Quinn realized he couldn't make Milo marry Drake, then the two could get an annulment.

Placing the cat on her feet, Milo got up and grabbed his keys, ready to go tell Bryson that he wanted things to work out, when he realized that he didn't have his car.

It was at the ranch.

Milo grabbed his phone, then it dawned on him that he didn't have Bryson's phone number.

Oh, this was working out real peachy.

He called the bar instead.

"Ugly Broad Saloon," Clayton answered.

"Hey, Clayton. I was wondering-"

"You!" Clayton said into the phone. "What in the hell were you two thinking? You don't even know each other."

Milo was stunned at the venom in Clayton's tone. "I just need my car." His tone was less than friendly, but Milo wasn't about to apologize.

"Walk and get it." Clayton hung up.

Milo stared at his phone as if he'd just talked to a dead loved one. Shock filled him and he wasn't sure what to do. Why on earth was Clayton so upset?

He knew the man had been looking out for Bryson when he protested their plan. But he didn't know Clayton would be this pissed.

Setting his phone aside, Milo knew he was going to have to walk to the ranch. That was something he wasn't looking forward to.

He closed his door and headed down his steps when he spotted the guy from the Laundromat. The man was standing outside one of the homes, watering his flowers.

The guy waved and smiled.