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And, just in case it wasn’t clear: I had a bit of a crush on him.
It was annoying. I didn’t even like Preston, yet my vagina fluttered a little whenever he was nearby. The traitorous little bitch.
He leaned forward on the bench, meeting my gaze as a smirk played on his lips. “You want to know who your competition is this year?”
My stomach sank. “You’re kidding.”
“I never kid about kissing, Halley.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Raegan waved her hands. “You’re her competition in the kissing booth?”
Preston nodded. “The organizers came to me and asked me. They want to spice things up a little—give Halley some actual competition.”
So they picked the hottest guy in Creek Falls? Awesome. Just awesome.
Raegan looked him up and down. “So they picked you?”
“It’s not my fault if they think I can kick Halley’s ass.”
I snorted. “In your dreams.”
“Hey, I already have a line of women waiting to kiss me.”
“No, you have a line of women hoping you’ll sleep with them so they can accidentally get pregnant and trap you.”
“And the money,” Raegan added. “Since Dad sold off half the company…”
Yeah, who knew being a florist could make you millions? I didn’t. But since their dad sold half the company, we all knew now.
“I don’t have one-night stands,” Preston interjected. “I can be both a bachelor and a celibate man.”
I stared at him flatly. “You’re celibate.”
“Why do you think I’m entering a stupid kissing contest?”
“Because you like winning.”
“I do like winning. Especially if I get to beat the town’s golden girl.” He grinned.
“Who’s beating the town’s golden girl?” Ava slid around from behind us.
“Me,” Preston replied.
“In what?”
Raegan smirked. “He’s Halley’s competition in the kissing booth contest.”
Ava froze with one leg over the bench. “Shut the fuck up.” She turned to look at me. “That’s a joke, right?”
I put a slice of cucumber in my mouth in response. My face probably already said what I was thinking. I didn’t really have much of a poker face.
She groaned and dropped onto the bench. “Now I’m losing for sure.”
Preston laughed. “You bet again, didn’t you?”
“Of course we did,” she snapped. “Our friendship is based upon ridiculous bets that Halley always wins, and I somehow always end up losing.”
I held up my hands. “You bet Raegan on this. Don’t bring me into it. And while you’re bitching, you could have a little faith in me. I haven’t won four years in a row for no reason.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t been up against Creek Falls’ answer to fucking Thor before.”
“That’s gross,” Raegan muttered.
Preston laughed again. “Creek Falls’ Thor, huh? I can live with that.”
Sigh. He was. Kinda. Ugh. “It’s just a bit of fun, okay?”
“You live for this contest. It’s your favorite thing,” Ava said. “How can you just say it’s a bit of fun?”
“She’s downplaying it for when I beat her.” Preston leaned over and took a sausage from my plate with a wink.
“Do you mind?” I peered at him over the rim of my glasses. It wasn’t the best idea in the world because it made him a little blurry.
Actually, no, wait. That was a great idea. It meant all his stupid, handsome features blurred in together, and there would be no clit clenching if I couldn’t see him clearly.
“No.” Preston tore a huge bite off the end of the sausage. “I’m hungry.”
“The line is right over there.” I cocked my thumb over my shoulder. “There’s more than enough food to go around. Get your own.”
“Why do I need my own when yours is right here?”
“Preston,” Reagan snapped. “Leave her alone.”
“You’re right.” He held up his hands as he moved his tall, strong body away from the table. “She gets the pleasure of my company for the next week—I’m sure she needs tonight to let that sink in before she gets excited.”
I stared at him. “The only sight of you that excites me is you walking away.”
He clutched his chest. “You wound me.”
“Carry on, and I actually will.” I twirled my fork in my hand.
Preston laughed, walking backward. “The week is still young, Halley.”
Ugh.
He was right.
It was young. Too young. And one week competing against him was one week too long, if you ask me. I couldn’t think of anything worse than being stuck in a glorified, oversized tent and having the object of my dumbass crush sitting mere feet behind me.
Kissing other women.
What would undoubtedly be a long, long line of other women.
Preston Wright was Creek Falls’ most eligible bachelor. Ever since his and Reagan’s parents sold fifty percent of their florist chain, the Wright family was worth seven figures. Preston stood to inherit fifty percent of that, but he was on a tidy little salary for whatever it was he did in the company.
There were a lot of women in Creek Falls who had their eye on him. Of course they did—that was where his wallet usually was. On his person.
