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“Your parents have that huge house in Beverly Hills.” I lean to the left—I have the window seat—until I’m pressed against the arm rest. I want to forget all the ugly thoughts in my head—it’s only two days until Penny’s rehearsal dinner, until I might lose him. I want to be lost in the moment with him. “That’s already one strike against you.”

“Most women consider wealth an upside.”

“Most guys want lap dances from busy strippers.” I run my fingers through his hair. “Most doesn’t matter.”

He nods true.

“How much do you make?”

His wavy hair falls in front of his eyes as he shakes his head. “Not going there.”

“Guesstimate it for me.”

“What about not going there makes you think I will?”

“The look in your eyes.”

“I’m thinking about you in a bikini.”

My lips curl into a smile. “Yeah?”

“No.” His fingertips brush my wrist. He draws those same lazy circles. “I’m thinking about making you come under.” He nods to the blanket tucked into the seatback pocket.

My cheeks flush. My body begs me to call his bluff. But I can’t.

There’s no way I can stay quiet.

There’s no way I can relax enough to feel it.

That awful scene—Ryan standing up as Penny walks down the aisle, shooting her that it’s me look, and whisking her into the sunset—is still playing in my head.

Those are nerves.

There’s no way that’s happening.

There’s no way I’m letting my fear of losing him keep me from paradise.

“What are you thinking?” He draws a heart on my forearm.

I love you. I need you to tell me you love me. I’m not sure I can do this if I don’t know you love me. “Nothing important.”

“Bullshit.”

“Is it that much?”

He arches a brow.

“Your salary.”

“Don’t have a salary. I make a quarter what the shop makes.”

“I know what the shop makes.”

“I know.”

“That is a lot.”

He laughs. “I guess arguing won’t help my case. My parents don’t think they’re rich either.”

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