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“Yes,” she whispered.
“You love him?”
“More than I thought I could.”
“Then why are you sitting out here by yourself? Go to him.”
“It’s too late. See for yourself.” She nodded back toward the celebration.
***
Max
Max downed another shot of whiskey before pulling Sara—no, Tara—out to the edge of the dance area. He pressed their bodies together, swaying to the music. She practically purred in his ear. He pictured Sloane in his arms instead. He ran his hands over her curves as they moved. The girl in his arms was all wrong for the girl he pictured in his head. Sloane was soft and smooth. Her skin felt like expensive silk. This imposter couldn’t hold a candle to her no matter how much he wished she could.
He opened his eyes, his gaze drifting over to a wooden bench under a tree. Staring back at him, Gutter Mouth slowly shook his head. What the fuck was his problem? As his old friend stood up, Max could see Sloane sitting there. Shit. Had they both been watching him dance with Kara or was it Sara? Not like her name mattered. It wasn’t Sloane. He released the woman in his arms mid-song. She looked up at him, confused.
“I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“I can come with you.”
She ran her hand down his arm, giving a seductive little smile, but it was wasted on him. He wasn’t interested in her or any other woman here. Without answering, Max marched off to find Sloane and Gutter Mouth. The bench they sat at before was empty now. He scanned the area until he spotted them up ahead, walking toward the front of the church holding hands. Jealousy reared its ugly head again.
“Sloane,” he yelled to get her attention. Either she didn’t hear him or she was ignoring him. He yelled again. This time she stopped walking. Her hand still in Gutter Mouth’s, she looked over her shoulder at him. Max quickly closed the distance between them.
“We need to talk. Now.”
“I don’t think we do, Max.”
“Darlin’—”
“Kasper, I adore you, but you need to shut up.”
Gutter Mouth held up his hands in surrender. Max watched them exchange a look. There was an unknown agreement in that look.
“Is this who you’re seeing? Is that why you haven’t told anyone?” he demanded.
“No, Max. I’m not seeing Kasper. We’re friends.”
“Then why won’t—”
A light twinkled from the trees nearby just before Gutter Mouth shoved Sloane toward Max and reached for the gun at his waist. Shots rang out, and Max launched himself at her, knocking them both to the ground. A sharp pain stabbed him as he rolled them so her body wouldn’t be the point of impact. Her screams echoed in his head as Max pulled his revolver from his ankle holster, firing in the same direction as Gutter Mouth was. Max knew he had to protect Sloane at all costs.
Max couldn’t tell whose bullet hit Booker in the side of his face, but it didn’t matter who pulled the trigger. All that mattered was that the man was down and couldn’t fire another round at Sloane. Lifting his body from hers, Max assessed her for wounds.
“Where are you hit?”
“I-I’m not. At least I don’t think so.”
“There’s blood on you, baby. Let me look. Hold still.”
Sloane lay there with her arms to her sides as Max’s hands roamed over her. He was looking for the bullet hole, but he couldn’t deny it felt good to touch her again, even if the circumstances sucked. There was blood on her hands and dress, only he couldn’t find a wound anywhere. Max stood up to help Sloane to her feet only to sway on his own. His vision began to blur as he dropped down to his knees.
“Max? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just a little dizzy.”
Sloane began pushing and pulling on his clothes. It would’ve been a turn-on if she didn’t look scared to death. Shouts were coming from the garden as guests began running out toward all the commotion. The color drained from her face.
