Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“You can go on and turn that frown upside down. Oliver isn’t gonna give a fuck. He’ll be too high on life.”
I nod, not quite convinced. “I barely remember what I did last night.” And the parts I do remember aren’t exactly PG rated. “If I signed my name, my real name, to the wedding certificate, what other mistakes did I make? Those things you said about the photographs—what if someone gets their hands on them?”
Panic spikes hard inside. Did I dry hump Fin’s thigh when I should’ve been embodying Evie, who is obviously much classier? I’m sure those are the kind of images she’d like flashed across the internet.
I can only imagine it happened because I’ve been thinking about Fin for months. Using him as the basis for my fantasies, replaying the way he looked at me in that closet that smelled of wool and leather and spilled champagne. The way his low spoken compliments felt against my skin and how he promised there would come a time when I’d feel whole again. I’ve reimagined that night so many times, taking it beyond those stolen moments into the realms of absolute fantasy.
But what if I’ve screwed it all up by making those fantasies real?
“You haven’t let them down, Mila. You behaved exactly like a bride should.”
But Fin’s reassurance doesn’t dilute my worry.
“Like a bride should?” I answer distractedly. “According to my experience, that’s a wide range of behavior,” I say. “I know you think you’ve been to a lot of weddings, but weddings are my daily bread, and I’ve seen some things.”
“I’m sure you have.”
I turn my full attention his way. “I’ve seen stuff that would make your hair curl. When it’s long enough. Like the bride slutdropped on her new father-in-law and two others who were caught in a compromising position. One with her stepbrother. What if I’ve ruined things?”
“You were the picture of a besotted bride.”
“That’s not what you said earlier.”
He reaches up and rubs his hand across the back of his neck. “I might’ve been exaggerating.”
“Why?”
“You’re just too tempting not to needle.”
I shake my head as though disappointed. I might’ve been angrier if I weren’t at least a little relieved. “Well, that’s good. For Evie, I mean.” And for my bank balance. My grandmother. My business’s chance of resurrection.
“It was good for me too.”
I narrow my eyes. “Maybe not so good for your health.” Especially if he keeps mentioning last night.
He slides his hands into his pockets as his gaze dips to his bare feet. “I almost bought into it myself.”
I’m tempted to ask him what he means. Best not.
“I’d just hate to let them down,” I say tersely, hoping my tone signifies a change in conversational direction. “I think we should take the opportunity to get a few things straight between us.”
“Sure.” His gaze lifts, but not his head.
“I’m sorry about last night, about what happened between us.”
“I’m not.”
His answer feels like a lick to the inside of my stomach. “Regardless, there won’t be a repeat. I’m here to work, and while my role might’ve turned unconventional—”
“We didn’t get up to anything too kinky.”
“—I take my client’s vision very seriously,” I rush on. “I underpromise and overdeliver.”
“No complaints here,” he replies, all silky mouthed.
I close my eyes for a beat, wishing my body would get with the program.
“But you’re not my client,” I say slowly. As though speaking to a child. Or an idiot. “Whatever happened between us wasn’t supposed to. Last night was a mistake. I promised Evie and Oliver I’d see this through, and I will. But we won’t be having sex again. Further, whether you’ve seen me naked or not doesn’t matter. I’d like you to leave the closet so I can get dressed.”
For the first time in our short acquaintance, Fin’s expression turns blank. As though he’s purposefully wiped all traces of playfulness from his eyes and his thoughts.
I almost feel sorry, and like a bit of a bitch, as he gives a short shrug and turns.
But then, not so sorry again when he says:
“Whatever you say, sugar tits.”
Chapter 9
Fin
“So, Mrs. DeWitt.”
Ahead of me, Mila makes a sound to convey her continued displeasure. Sadly for her, the sound just makes me think about sex.
No repeats, I silently scoff. Maybe not until she remembers how much she was into it. Last night was the night of my life. Mila writhed like a flame in my arms. Hot, dangerous, and all consuming.
“Wait, thinking about it, you actually are Mrs. DeWitt. Trippy.”
“What other mistakes did I make?” she’d asked. I could tell her, sure. But then I’d have to admit my crazy part in this. What I did was so out of character for me—just fucking madness. But after examining my feelings this morning, I find I have zero regrets. Which leads me to believe I’ve either lost my fucking mind or that I’ve got it bad.