Arden just rolls her own.
“You can’t talk about proposing evenhypotheticallyat someone else’s wedding!” Ariana whisper-yells at him.
“The wedding isn’t for a few days,” Forker counters, holding up a hand in defense. “And I was making ajoke,you guys. Stoplooking at me like I sacrificed one of the Lowes’ dogs to the devil.”
“Excuse me?”
Penny’s back.
Awful timing.
Forker’s face goes stark white. He straightens, meeting her cold, lethal glare as she enters the room with Wyatt, whose eyes are hard and whose jaw is set. He books it straight for the documents, signs his name, tosses down the pen, and then storms outside.
Saltzy and Penny exchange a look. Cal follows him without another word.
“I was kidding!” Forker says. “It was a joke, I didn’t?—”
“Donotjoke about that,” Penny tells him, eyes full of warning. That was the worst possible thing that she could have overheard. She doesn’t fuck around when it comes to those dogs. “I thoroughly believe that voicing those thoughts has the power to make things come true and ifanythinghappens toanyof my?—”
“Lucky,” Lowesy warns from the kitchen, a grin on his face. “The kids are fine.”
With her parents. Safe.
“I’m sorry,” Forker offers weakly, his cheeks a bit pink. “It was a bad joke.”
“You’re lucky that I love you as much as I do,” she murmurs, and then her eyes flicker to Arden and she smirks. All a joke. All a ploy to make Fork flounder like this, and it was as easy as taking candy from a six-foot-three baby.
He seems to realize he’s been played at the same time as Penny starts to laugh because he shakes his head, cursing under his breath.
“All six signatures,” Declan tells her from across the room. “Round of drinks?”
Penny peers out the screen door to where Wyatt and Saltzy are now sitting on the front step, Saltzy’s hand firmly on Wyatt’s back.
“Give it a minute,” is all she says.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ariana
I droponto the chair next to his, just to make him sweat.
He doesn’t even look at me. His eyes stay glued to the game that is being played on the beach. Give mesomething,Boston Black. I’m in a cute bikini and my lips are all glossy so that you have something pretty to look at every time you shoot me down.
“Hi, Wedding Date.”
“Plus one,” he corrects in a grumble, bringing his beer to his lips. His hair is pulled back, and I wonder if he knows that I have a soft spot for that look on him.
“Do you like my bathing suit?” I ask innocently.
“Ari,” he warns. That was quicker than usual.
“I knew I should have gone with black.” I sigh, leaning back in the chair. He doesn’t even glance at me. He’s completely indifferent. “I figured you weren’t a pink guy.”
“The pink is just fine,” he mutters.
Oh?
A smile tugs at my mouth. “So youdolike it?”
