Page 34 of Heart Breaker

“It wasn’t quick,” she breathes.

“No,” I admit. “It was…a kiss.”

Madeline clutches her chest. “Define kiss.”

I glare at her, but I can feel the heat in my face. “It wasn’t just, like, lips touching and done. It was—” I stop myself, shaking my head. “It was like neither one of us wanted it to end. It got intense fast.”

Her eyes go even wider. “Did he use tongue?”

“Oh my God, did he ever. It was incredible. But now I feel like I shouldn’t have enjoyed it that much.”

“Lottie,” she says, completely delighted. “No one would blame you for kissing him. Objectively speaking, the guy is smoking hot.”

“We agreed it wouldn’t happen again.”

Madeline laughs. “Good luck with that. You realize now that you’ve kissed him once, you’re going to want to do it again, right? Attraction like that is not something you can turn off.”

“No. It was a one-time thing.”

Madeline stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You’re actually serious right now?”

“I am,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “I mean it. It felt too real and I’m not putting myself in a situation where I catch feelings in a fake marriage. I know how this is going to play out a year from now. Besides, Wes doesn’t do relationships, and I’m not built for a temporary fling. Why make this harder than it already is?”

“Mm hmm,” she hums, making it clear she’s not buying it. I narrow my eyes at her while she fights back a smile.

“Behave yourself,” I tell her, laughing for what feels like the first time today as I push open the bathroom door.

“You first,” she responds with a wink.

I take a deep breath and lead the way back to the table where my new husband is waiting.

Madeline makes a soft, borderline inappropriate groan as she takes another bite of her filet, her eyes closing for a second like she’s having an intimate moment.

“Okay,” she says, pointing her fork at the plate in front of her, “this might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted. There is no reason a steak should taste this good.”

Jesse snorts from across the table, giving her a what the fuck look. “Wow, good to know the years I’ve spent perfecting my steak mean absolutely nothing to you.”

She leans back, smiling. “Yours is still my favorite, my love. But this one is making a very strong case.”

Noah glances at Jesse. “Watch out, Jess. You’re going to lose her to the chef in the kitchen.”

I laugh, shaking my head as I cut another bite of my own steak. “She’s not wrong, though. This might be the best thing I’ve eaten in my life.”

“Wow, in your life? High praise,” Ford says, but there’s a hint of a smile there as he glances at Landyn.

Across the table, Jesse launches into a story about a deal gone sideways that soon turns into a joke at his own expense. It all feels like a dream. I’m a married woman. I’m sitting here having dinner with my husband’s family. I don’t need to be reminded that none of it is real, but right now it kind of feels like it is. Everyone around the table is laughing and relaxed. Wes sits back in his chair, his suit jacket and tie long gone, the top button of his dress shirt undone. He’s quiet, but there’s an ease to him that only makes him even more attractive.

As if he can feel me watching him, his gaze shifts to me. There’s something observant in his expression, observant, like he’s been tracking me this whole time without making it obvious. It makes my stomach dip. I look away first, reaching for my drink just for something to do.

“Hey,” Jesse says suddenly, pointing his fork at me. “You’re fitting in a little too well over there. Should I be worried?”

“Very,” I deadpan. “I’m already planning ways to steal your dessert.”

“Wow,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “She marries into the family and immediately turns on us.”

The moment is suddenly interrupted when a man I don’t recognize appears at our table. “Well, I’ll be damned…all four of the Winters brothers under one roof.” He looks like he’s in his mid-forties. His eyes land on Wes, then move to me. His gaze drops to the massive diamond ring on my ring finger. “Looks like the rumors are true,” he says, smiling. “Congratulations.”

Wes stands, one hand resting on the back of my chair. He reaches forward to shake the man’s hand. “Thank you,” he says easily. “This is my wife, Lottie. Lottie, this is Mark.”