Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Will there be a quiz?”
“Maybe.” I frown at that. “They all know Scott. They’re his type of people.”
Deke grunts at that, and I feel even more unhappy. Jenn is a good friend, but what if the rest take Scott’s side? They’ve got that upper class way of being rude and condescending in the politest way possible. Under their polo shirts and shiny smiles is coiled razor wire.
“Sadie,” Deke calls, and I realize I’ve been staring out the window. The glass reflects the worry lines in my forehead. “Relax,” he settles his hand on my knee and squeezes.
And I do, settling into the plush seat. For a rugged military-looking vehicle, the interiors are pretty posh.
“And we can definitely practice, if you want.” His voice sounds lower and rougher than usual. Another squeeze of my knee, and arousal spreads through me.
“Practice does make perfect,” I trill. Who cares if Scott’s friends don’t approve of my life choices? Deke will protect me. Some rebellious part of me I never knew existed sort of revels in the idea of shocking everyone at that wedding this weekend.
And who knows, when we’re in private, I might even shock myself with my behavior.
I shiver and do a surreptitious butt wriggle.
“Cold?” Deke turns on the fancy seat warmers. He ups the cab temperature and makes sure the warm air is blowing my way.
“This is good, thanks,” I say.
“Sure? I got a blanket in the back.” He reaches behind my seat, rummages around then hands me a water bottle. “I also brought snacks.”
“You did?” He’s so freaking thoughtful. “This is perfect, thank you. I take it back. You don't need to practice.” I smile at him. “You're already the perfect fake boyfriend. Way better than Scott.”
Deke snorts. “That’s probably not hard. I can’t imagine that guy paying attention to anyone besides himself.” He signals his turn before getting on the highway out of town. “None of my business, babe, but what did you see in him?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same question. I think I only dated him because my father wanted it. And I think he only dated me to align with my father.”
“No love lost, then?”
“No. I think I tried to believe I loved him, but… yeah. I don’t think it was love. I just didn’t want to make waves with a break-up. So when he cheated on me, it was a relief.”
“He cheated on you?” Deke says incredulously, like I’m some kind of sex goddess no man would ever stray from.
“Yep. But like I said, I was glad. Good reason to do what I secretly knew I should’ve done two years earlier.”
“You close with your dad?”
“Not at all. The opposite, but when my mom left, he sued for full custody. She let him have it, even though I wanted to go with her.”
“That sucks,” he says softly after I’ve fallen silent.
“It was a long time ago. Okay, let’s get our stories straight,” I say as Deke guns it past the mountain. “How did we meet? What do we say?”
“The truth. I saw you across the plaza, and I wanted you.”
I flush. “You wanted to meet me.”
He suppresses grin and says, “Sure.”
A fire kindles between my legs. I squeeze my inner thighs together and clear my throat. “And I saw you with your biker friends and wanted to meet you too. And for our first date you took me on a bike ride. Then home, but you were a perfect gentleman.”
“Babe,” he looks pained. “Don’t tell them that.”
“You are the perfect gentleman. And you ride a motorcycle and drive the type of car all the rap songs sing about.”
This gets a real grin. “You listen to rap?”
“Not a lot. I used to think Shawty was a rapper that all the other rappers knew. That’s how much I know about rap.”
It’s a long time before Deke stops chuckling at that one. I might have encouraged it by singing the first few lines of In Da Club by 50 cent, and explaining that I thought the song was about his friend Shawty celebrating a birthday.
“So that’s settled,” I say a few hours later, as we turn into the resort entrance. “That’s our story. We just stick to it, and it’ll be fine.” But when we pull up to the lodge, I feel my face stiffening into a frozen smile. There are tons of fancy cars being valeted—Porsches, Land Rovers, even a Maserati. Big money, fast cars, people in expensive clothes drinking too much and pretending they’re important—this is my dad’s world. He’d be rubbing his hands together at all the potential business contacts. He’d see this wedding as a networking event.
Scott definitely will be working the crowd while he’s here. I can almost hear him lecturing me on how to behave, so he can make a good impression. My shoulders rise towards my ears, stiffening in defense at the memory.