Best Man, Better Kisser
MM Contemporary Romance
by Jace Wilder
Free with Kindle Unlimited
Pairing: MM
Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno
Tropes: Bi Awakening, Wedding Romance, Forced Proximity, Practice Kisses, Praise Kink, Competence Kink, Grumpy/Sunshine, Blue Collar/White Collar, First Time MM
He’s supposed to help the groom say “I do” — not teach the wedding planner how much better the best man kisses.
Eli Morrow is a contractor who’s good with his hands and bad with feelings. He flies in for his best friend’s lavish destination wedding with one job: be the best man, deliver a speech, don’t screw anything up. He’s not expecting the meticulous, devastatingly attractive male wedding planner to recruit him as a right-hand man for the week — and he’s definitely not expecting the “practice kiss” that rewires his entire understanding of himself.
Nico Salazar has built his career making other people’s love stories perfect. His own? Not so much. After two years of being an ex’s dirty secret, he’s sworn off unavailable men — especially straight ones. But Eli Morrow, with his calloused hands and his easy grin and his absolute refusal to let Nico carry everything alone, is making it very hard to keep that promise.
One week of stolen moments — practice walks down the aisle, late-night stress relief, and a “professional” kissing demonstration that goes catastrophically off-script — turns casual curiosity into a full-blown bi awakening that Eli can’t write off as wedding nerves. But Nico refuses to be someone’s experiment again, and Eli has to decide: is this a week-long fling, or is he willing to choose this man out loud, in the daylight, in front of everyone?
You’ll love this book if you enjoy:
✅ Bi awakening with a blue-collar best man who discovers his praise kink
✅ “Practice kisses” that become VERY real, VERY fast
✅ Wedding-week forced proximity with escalating tension
✅ A competent, guarded wedding planner who deserves to be chosen
✅ Slow emotional burn that EXPLODES (🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ — graphic, explicit, emotional)
✅ No breakup, no cheating, no villain — just two men figuring it out
✅ HEA guaranteed
⚠️ Content Warning: This novel contains explicit sexual content (graphic MM scenes), strong language, and themes of identity discovery and emotional vulnerability. Intended for readers 18+.
📖 Read Chapter One Free
Not sure yet? Read the full first chapter right here.
Chapter One: Check-in and Chaos
The GPS told me I’d arrived at my destination, which was how I knew something had gone terribly wrong.
I leaned forward in the cab of my F-150, squinting through the windshield at a stone archway wrapped in ivy so precise it looked hand-combed. Beyond it, a gravel drive curved through rolling green hills dotted with old oaks, and at the top of the rise sat a sprawling estate that belonged on the cover of a magazine I couldn’t afford to subscribe to.
Ridgewater Estate. Where my best friend was getting married in six days to a woman who was objectively too good for him, in a venue that was objectively too good for all of us.
I glanced down at myself. Steel-toed boots. Jeans with drywall dust on the left knee. A flannel I’d thrown on that morning when I left the job site at noon because I’d forgotten to pack a clean shirt for the drive. I had sawdust in my hair. I could feel it.
“Cool,” I muttered, and drove through the arch.
The gravel crunched under my tires like it was judging me. I passed a stone chapel with stained glass windows catching the late afternoon sun, a garden with hedges trimmed into shapes that probably had a French name, and a barn that looked like it had been professionally distressed by someone who’d never actually worked in one. My truck — mud flaps, toolbox bolted to the bed, a faded air freshener shaped like a pine tree swinging from the mirror — rolled to a stop between a white BMW and a black Mercedes.
I fit right in.
The situation at the bottom of the drive was exactly what I’d pictured: a box truck loaded with folding tables had tried to navigate the curve near the barn and slid off the gravel onto a soft shoulder, rear wheels dug into mud up to the axle. It was now blocking the entire drive.
But the truck wasn’t what I noticed first.
What I noticed first was the guy standing at the front bumper of the box truck, phone pressed to his ear, free hand gesturing like he was conducting an orchestra of incompetence.
He was composed, even mid-crisis. Slim-cut charcoal pants, a fitted navy vest over a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, dark hair styled sharp enough to cut glass. He moved like someone who expected the world to rearrange itself around him and was mildly irritated that it hadn’t yet.
Something about that walk — the control of it, the tension in his shoulders, the way his vest pulled across his back — made me stop on the path and stare for a second longer than I should have.
Then my brain caught up. Stuck truck. I have a truck. I have a tow chain.
I pulled it off in under two minutes. Eased the F-150 forward, chain went taut, and the box truck lurched back onto the gravel like it had never been stuck.
When I turned around, the planner was standing with his arms crossed, head tilted, studying me like I was a problem he was recalculating.
“That was…” He paused. “Useful.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t say thank you.”
“You were about to.”
The dimple appeared. Just for a second — a flash of something warm and genuine beneath the professional polish. Then it was gone, replaced by the controlled expression of a man who had eleven hundred things to do and no time to waste on the best man’s grin.
“Thank you,” he said. Clipped. Formal. But his eyes lingered on mine a beat too long.
Drew introduced us properly an hour later.
“Eli, this is Nico Salazar. He’s planning the whole thing. Nico, this is Eli Morrow, my best man and apparently my emergency tow service.”
Nico extended his hand. His grip was firm, his palm cool and smooth against my calloused one. “We’ve met. Your best man just saved my timeline. I might need to borrow him this week.”
I watched him work the room — a handshake here, a compliment there, steering conversations with the ease of someone who’d done it a thousand times. He was good. Not just competent — magnetic.
That was all it was. Professional admiration.
Definitely.
I sat on the edge of the absurdly nice bed in the absurdly nice room and pulled out my phone.
Me: Your wedding planner is intense.
Drew: Lol wait till you see him during cake tasting
Drew: The man has OPINIONS about buttercream
I tossed the phone on the bed and went to shower off the drywall dust and the highway miles and the vague, unplaceable feeling that this week was going to be more complicated than I’d planned for.
The water was hot. The pressure was perfect. I stood under it too long, eyes closed, and when my brain drifted — which it did, the way brains do in hot showers — it didn’t drift to the wedding, or the speech I hadn’t written, or the seating chart I’d been warned about.
It drifted to dark eyes. Cool hands. A dimple that appeared and vanished like a secret.
Professional admiration, I told myself again, turning the water cold.
Definitely that.
Want to keep reading? The full novel is available now.
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The Rehearsal — A scene TOO HOT for Amazon
Six months after the wedding that started it all, Eli and Nico return to Ridgewater Estate to plan their own. Champagne-vs-ivory sash debates, dance floor sex under the fairy lights, and enough praise kink to melt the barn’s original dovetail joints.
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