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“Oh, that’s exciting!”
The obvious joy on her face seemed to please Garrett. His body language and the way he kept my mother close to his side screamed possessive.
Bad idea, Mr. Hughes. Mom isn’t the female you try and claim. She belongs to herself. Always has.
“Call me if you change your mind,” Mom told me before Garrett led her toward the exit.
I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but it felt as if people parted like the Red Sea for Garrett as he walked through the room. Many gave him a smile, greeting, nod of their head, but all of them looked at him with an odd reverence. It was unsettling to watch. Something bothered me about that, and I wasn’t sure why exactly.
Turning my focus back to the view in front of me, I looked over the crowd. I had never seen so many hats in my life. Many were completely ridiculous. I was thankful the hat—which had been supplied by Garrett Hughes’s stylist, who had apparently been the one to choose our outfits—was a simple, floppy cotton-candy-pink hat that would work brilliantly on the beach. The pink dress I was wearing was strapless and cinched at the waist but fluffed out with a twisty chiffon material, stopping just past my mid-thigh. It was much more elaborate than the hat. As were the strappy white heels on my feet. Teardrop pearl earrings and a matching necklace, which was almost a choker, finished off the look. This was the second fancy outfit I’d worn since arriving, and both had been pink. Different shades but pink nonetheless.
Mom had convinced me not to pull my hair back, like hers. My hair was long and curly. My mom coveted it. She also liked for me to display it. The honey-blonde color was darker than hers, but she swore that the different shades of blonde streaks, caused by the sun, created a masterpiece that I shouldn’t keep from the world. To make her happy, I had left it down, allowing it to curl on its own.
“You forgot to leave me a glass slipper last night,” a familiar, deep voice said close to my ear.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I sighed, then turned to look at Trev Hughes. I’d hoped to avoid him the rest of this weekend. Last night, he’d given me a moment to escape, and I’d taken it. I shouldn’t have, but when I had gotten the chance, I’d bailed. I liked him. He made me laugh. I’d been honest when I told him that I thought we could be good friends. He wasn’t at all what I’d expected after being around his father. In the end, I had known that allowing him to flirt with me was wrong. Our parents were dating. He just didn’t know.
I turned to study him. Just like last night, I was struck speechless by his shocking gray eyes, outlined in thick black lashes. Ridiculously full lips made me want to touch them and see if they felt as soft as they looked. His black hair was just long enough on top to have a sexy, messy look. Tanned skin—which hinted that he spent more time outdoors than in—a firm jawline, and wide shoulders all created a very nice profile package. He wasn’t in a tux today, but he was still devastatingly beautiful.
“Waiting on that excuse, Cinderella.”
“Can I just apologize?” I asked.
He shrugged with a serious expression. “I don’t know. Might require more than that.”
Unable to keep the grin from spreading across my face, I took the bait. “What would that be exactly?”
He cut his gaze from the track to me, and then he winked. “Oh, Gypsi, you shouldn’t give me that kind of power.”
I laughed.
“I’ll go easy on you,” he said, leaning down to me, then tapped his cheek with his finger. “One kiss.”
Putting my lips on him was too tempting. He had no idea what he was asking for. But it was just his cheek. What harm could that do? It wasn’t like I was in Florida. We were miles away. This was safe. There was no danger in my past stalking me here. Besides, he was hard to tell no. I turned toward him, and with the heels on my feet, it just took me lifting up a little to reach him. Closing my eyes, I leaned in to make it quick. I gasped, and my eyes flew open when soft, warm lips met mine. When I moved away from him, his gray eyes locked on mine. I wished he hadn’t done that.
I watched as he slowly licked his lips, as if savoring the taste. “Damn, that’s sweet. Like a fucking lollipop.”
This guy. He was too much. I had to keep my head straight. Even if our parents weren’t dating, I was trouble, and he had no idea how much.
