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He runs a hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact with me. “Uhh... I needed a pen and paper to write my number down for some hot chick I met out there.”
“Couldn’t you just swap numbers on your phones?” We aren’t in the Stone Age anymore; we have cell phones for a reason.
“I forgot my phone in the guest house, and fuck, her dress is so tight. There ain't no way in hell she's keeping one on her.” He bites his lip, giving me a wink.
Reilly is a real ladies man, so this isn’t out of the ordinary—it’s pretty much an everyday occurrence. But something feels off here.
I don't believe in coincidences. I don't know what's going on, but something definitely is, judging by her weird reaction when I introduced them before. Now they're coming from the direction of my office only a few minutes apart.
“Funny how my fiancée just came from there,” I accuse.
Reilly chuckles. "Calm down, man. I was in the office when she opened the door. She was lost, and I told her where to go. You’re overthinking this, maybe even a little paranoid about your wife running off. You sure you don’t like her?”
My blood heats, enraged at his words. We’ve been friends since childhood, so he knows exactly how to push my buttons. I'm not afraid of anything, not even the girl who could send my entire future crashing and burning. If this marriage fails and people find out it was fake, no one would trust another marriage of mine. I only have this one shot.
I hope I’m making the right choice with Tara.
She may have me in the palm of her hand, but I can destroy her just the same. If she does something to ruin this, I’ll make sure her little restaurant crashes and burns to the ground, never seeing the light of day again.
A low, animalistic growl rumbles through me, and he stiffens when he realizes I’m serious. “Look, nothing happened. We just talked for a little bit about the people at the party.” He’s trying to calm me down, but his lies are just pissing me off even more.
Reilly’s my brother. I know him better than I know myself. There’s something he’s not telling me. Jesus, I’m really paranoid right now.
My shoulders tense as I move closer to him, intending to uncover the truth. Footsteps approaching behind me suck the words back into my mouth.
A hand grabs my shoulder, and I turn to see Randall fucking Crowe. God, I hate him with a fucking passion. He’s always been a slimy piece of shit. Probably why he and my father got along so well.
“Doing business at your engagement party? This was an important day for you—surely you could at least take a break.” He gives me an evil grin. “You better get back out there before someone snatches up your girl. She sure is a pretty little thing. I’d hate to have to find out what she needs from you and marry her myself.”
Pretty sure your wife wouldn’t approve of that.
It takes everything in me to not beat his face in. I know he’s doing this to rile me up. He doesn’t have proof of anything, he’s just trying to see what will make me tick. The thought of him with Tara sends a shot of rage down my spine. I might be a dick to her, but even I know she’s way too good for this grimy motherfucker.
I let out a devious chuckle, giving him a once-over. “Trust me, Randall. You don’t have what she needs.” The sexual innuendo fills the hall, and his face flushes with rage, steam practically coming from his ears.
“There’s no way you found love. You’ve always been a sneaky little prick. I’m going to do everything in my power to prove that this little marriage you’re trying to pull off is as fake as the tits on your girl,” Randall threatens, before heading into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
I might not be fucking Tara, but I sure as shit know those tits are real.
My glare almost burns a hole into the door he disappeared behind, and I swear I hear a low growl come from Reilly.
“I fucking hate that guy,” I murmur.
“Same, brother.”
He’s probably hoping I’ve forgotten about him and Tara, but I haven’t. “We’ll talk later. If there’s anything going on between you and Tara other than friendly chat, you need to stay away from her. You don’t need to get caught up in her web.”
“Not that anything’s going on, but I thought she could fuck whoever she wants,” Reilly replies casually.
“She can. Just not you.” I’m tired of this conversation and I need to get back to pretending I’m happy, so I turn and storm back into the party.
Ignoring all the eye-fucking from the thirsty women in the room, I head straight to our table. My phone vibrating in my pocket stops me before I can reach my destination. As I pull the cell out, I stare over at my future wife and my mother laughing it up at the table.
God, that’s not good.There’s no telling what they’re talking about.
Glancing down, I see Viper’s name flash across the screen. I really don’t have time for this—there’s enough on my plate with this fake engagement party—but I know if he’s calling, it means there’s something I’ll need to fix. Huffing, I hit the decline button and shove the cell back in my pocket. I’ll deal with Snakes shit later. Right now, I have a performance to put on.
Break a leg, Nix.
