Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 54520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Grabbing her wrist, I jerk her against me. “First of all, I didn’t know I’d have to keep this charade going all damn night.”
She opens her mouth, but I cut her off.
“And secondly, instead of barking orders, you should be thanking me. I could’ve thrown you under the bus back there.”
Her chin lifts. “You also could have walked away and minded your own damn business, but you didn’t. So here we are.”
She’s got a point, but I refuse to admit that. So I meet her glare head-on.
The fire in her eyes sparks against mine, shifting the tension in the room—hotter, tighter—until it licks at the edges of my control, threatening to incinerate me where I stand.
Just when I think one of us is about to combust, a knock at the door shatters it.
“What?” we snap in unison.
A bridesmaid pokes her head in, timid and wide-eyed. “Uh, sorry to interrupt,” she says, gaze darting to Harlow. “But Jaime’s asking for you.”
Harlow nods, her professional mask sliding into place like second nature. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”
The bridesmaid turns to leave, but not before sneaking a quick look my way, blatant appreciation darkening her gaze.
I toss her a wink before I can stop myself, amused by the blush that creeps up her neck.
The second the door closes, Harlow’s hand connects with the back of my head.
“Ow. What the hell was that for?” I ask, rubbing the sting.
“That,” she hisses, “is exactly the kind of shit I’m talking about. You can’t do that, Linc. Not tonight.” Her finger jabs into my chest with each word. “I mean it. No flirting. No dancing. And absolutely no charming your way into anyone’s panties. Got it?”
“Except for yours, right?”
She bristles. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I lean in, close enough to see the pulse hammering at her throat. “You want me to play the part? I’ll play the part, baby. I’ll play it so fucking good, you’ll not only give me that dance, you’ll be begging me to rip those pretty panties off you.”
Her eyes flash with heat before she masks it with a smile. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Slimer, but I’ll be working all night. You’re on your own to keep this little charade going.”
She’s out of her damn mind if she thinks I’m carrying this myself. I’m about to tell her so when she rises to her toes, lips brushing my ear.
That sweet vanilla scent wraps around me like a noose, locking the words in my throat.
“But I’ll tell you what,” she murmurs, “since you’re so desperate for that dance, I’ll ask Jaime’s grandma to step in for me. I’m sure she’d be thrilled.”
After a light, patronizing tap on my cheek, she saunters out, making damn sure she gets the last word.
My hands curl into fists, every muscle pulled tight with the urge to haul her back, pin her against the wall, and fuck that sass right out of her.
Instead, I’m left standing here like a chump, watching the door she disappeared through.
What’s even worse? The night plays out exactly the way she said it would. She dodges me at every turn, while I do exactly what she told me—stay away from other women and play the part.
Why? Because Harlow Hayes has me by the balls. Always has…even when she doesn’t know it.
She may have won this battle, but the war will be mine.
You are cordially invited to celebrate the marriage of Hattie Hayes and Finch Whitmore.
The words glare up at me from the cream cardstock, mocking me with every perfectly embossed letter.
Barely engaged and already sprinting down the aisle. If betrayal had a scent, it would smell like roses and gold ink.
The anger I felt opening that envelope yesterday was powerful. I had almost tossed it straight into the trash, until the handwritten letter from my sister slipped out.
Harlow,
I know how awkward this must be for you, given the circumstances, and I know that’s my fault. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t come, but I really hope you do. I can’t imagine not having you at the biggest day of my life. If things were different, I would have you planning out every moment of this with me, but I won’t do that to you. I am going to ask you to come, though, because despite all that has happened between us, you’re still my sister, and that will never change. I love you, Harlow, and I miss you deeply. I would love nothing more than for us to put the past behind us and start fresh. Please think about it.
All my love,
Hattie
By the time I finished reading, the fire of my anger had started to fizzle, leaving something heavier in its wake, a hollow ache I’ve spent years trying to ignore. Suddenly, I didn’t know what to do or how to feel.