Page 13 of Sterling Fight

Because Genie asking me to be her date becomes clearer as Janet takes in my proximity to her daughter.

“Judd.” Janet nods stiffly. She doesn’t care for me anymore than I care for her.

“Mother, I see you know my . . .” Genie pauses and glances up at me.

I arch a brow, almost daring her to call me her date. In my gut, I know it’s premature to say such a thing. And it’s definitely impetuous to say what pops out of my mouth next.

“I’m her fiancé.”

5

[Genie]

His fiancée. Just what the eff-ity is happening here?

Before a moment to process that Judd went rogue passes, my mother crosses her arms, hitches her hip, and glares between Judd and me. Her processed-blonde coif doesn’t move despite the rapid movement of her head.

“Real-ly?” My mother draws out the word then pauses for emphasis. “Where’s the ring?”

Instantly, I fist my left hand, debating about wrapping my arm around Judd’s back in order to hide my naked finger.

Here’s the thing; I’m allergic to marriage and standing in front of me is the reason why. My mother is on her fourth husband.

And despite the strange burst of energy between Judd and I, that snap-crackle-pop! sensation I felt last week at his fight, I do not want to marry him. He’s lucky we’re even cordially speaking at the moment.

Plus, he just broke up with his girlfriend, less than four hours ago.

“Could you excuse us a second?” I grip Judd’s suit coat sleeve just above his elbow.

The moment I saw him across the room, my lungs constricted. Judd in a flannel shirt earlier was one thing. Judd out of it with that tight-fitting tank and those colorful arms another. But Judd in a royal blue, custom-made suit that matches is eyes is almost lethal. The material is silky and smooth beneath my grip as I tug him toward a door a few steps from the corner we’d been standing in that leads us outside.

The yard is packed with people for the garden party, admiring my mother’s pre-summer collection of greenery and the potential for future flowers.

Needing more privacy, I drag Judd around to the side of the house into a shaded area which hides us better from the garden viewers.

Glancing up at him, I snap. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I—” Judd swipes his hand through his thick mass of hair and blinks down at me. “I’m sorry. I panicked.”

“Well, panic elsewhere.” Looking at his stricken face, I sigh and take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m panicked. My mother is going to have a million more questions, especially if you can’t magically produce a ring.”

“Actually . . .” Judd digs under the collar of the white dress shirt he wears beneath his suit jacket and brings forward a silver chain with two rings dangling from it. Removing the linked chain from his head, he works at the clasp and removes the daintier of the two rings.

Between his pinched fingers he holds out a sliver of a gold band with a small amethyst stone and two diamonds on either side of the gem. It’s pretty and sweet. A bit antiquated and . . .

“Are you fucking serious?”

Judd and I both turn at the sharp loudness of Heather’s voice. In a slinky yellow dress that hugs her curves and slithers down her body like a drizzle of soft serve ice cream, Heather Remington is a vision of brightness. Her boobs almost pop out the top of her strapless contraption and her blond hair even matches her dress.

“You have got to be joking.” She glares at the ring Judd is holding before narrowing in on me.

“And you.” She jabs her finger in my direction.

Judd shifts, partially blocking me from Heather’s menacing glare. The move is protective and endearing but unnecessary. I’ve been dealing with Heather Remington my entire life.

Heather steps closer to Judd, getting right up in his face. He turns his head, giving her his cheek, like a noble man. He’s preparing for her to strike him, and I swallow at the realization he’ll take it.

Instead, Heather attempts to push Judd out of her way and aims at me with a raised palm.