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“You’re absolutely right,” Dad says, “and had you told us, then we wouldn’t be finding out about it now.”
“It only happened a week ago,” I explain. “And we haven’t exactly been on speaking terms since I left Shea. I wasn’t even sure you’d be here tonight.”
“First, you embarrass our family by walking away from Shea over a woman,” Dad spits. “And now I learn you’re passing her back and forth with your friend. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Joseph, if you can’t drop this, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Ben says softly yet firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
“Fine,” Dad says. “Kassandra, let’s go.” He grabs Mom’s hand and pulls her through the throng of people toward the door.
As I watch them leave, wishing not for the first time I was born into a different family, I pray Bree didn’t hear any of that. That somehow, she got pulled away to talk to someone, and when I turn around, I’ll see she’s none the wiser. But when my eyes land on hers, I know she witnessed the entire exchange. Thankfully, when I look for her kids, they’re at the dessert table with Amalia—out of hearing distance.
“Ignore them,” I say, lifting her chin to look at me. “There will always be people who don’t understand, who don’t get it. And unfortunately, my parents will always be those people. All they care about is their pristine image. And unless my sister and I fall into line, allowing them to make us their personal puppets they can pull the strings on, they’ll never support anything we do.”
“I don’t want to come between you and your family,” she murmurs, her eyes showing a sadness I don’t like.
“They did this, not you. It doesn’t matter what I do, I’ll never please them, and I’m done trying. Forget them. I already have. You, Brody, and your kids are my future. You got me?”
“Okay,” she whispers, but she looks anything but okay.
Wanting to somehow salvage the evening, I glance around for a way to distract Bree when I notice several couples dancing on the dance floor. Extending my hand, I bow dramatically and say, “Dance with me, my lady?”
I know it works when a small smile tugs on the corners of Bree’s cheeks, and she nods, placing her hand in mine.
I guide her to the dance floor and wrap my arms around her waist. She’s wearing a gorgeous dress that shows off every one of her perfect curves as well as her entire back. I can’t help but run my fingers along her smooth flesh as she encircles her arms around my neck, and we sway to the music.
“Your skin is soft,” I murmur, dipping my head and kissing the corner of her mouth as my hands descend to the swells of her ass. “And you smell so damn sweet.” I run my nose along her jawline and place a soft kiss to the sensitive spot just below it, leaving my lips on her long enough to feel the thrumming of her pulse. “It’s taking everything in me not to take a bite out of you right here.” I sink my teeth into her flesh, and a shiver runs through her body.
“Hayden,” she half groans, half chides, tilting her head to the side to give me better access. “You can’t say stuff like that here.”
“Why not?” I ask, licking the slight pain away.
“Because…” She leans up on her tiptoes, and her mouth grazes the shell of my ear. “When you talk like that, you turn me on. And I can’t be turned on here.”
She pulls back slightly, and our eyes meet. The desire I see in hers has me pulling out my phone and sending a text to Brody.
Me: Keep an eye on the kids for a few minutes. I’m about to fuck our girl seven ways to Sunday.
Brody: Lucky bastard. On it.
I’ve been to this venue enough times to know the family bathroom is cleaner than most people’s houses and has a comfortable couch.
When I see Brody sitting at the table with his family and Bree’s kids, I take Bree’s hand in mine and pull her off the dance floor. After looking to make sure no one is watching, we slip inside.
“What are we—?” she begins to ask, but before she can finish her question, I slam my mouth down on hers and lift her into my arms, carrying her over to the counter.
“We need to be quick,” I murmur against her mouth.
She parts her lips to argue, but when I tug her panties down her legs and then thrust my fingers inside her, finding her drenched, her argument is lost in her throat.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” I mutter, trailing kisses along her neck.
As I’m finger-fucking her to make sure she’s ready for me, she clamps down on my hand with hers, so my fingers are inside her, but I can’t move them.
