Max let his own green gaze linger way too long on Sunny before finally raising his eyes to meet mine.
“Missed the speech, but it looks like I got here right on time for the show. You two are putting on quite an act for poor,sickNora.”
This fucking asshole.Just like his mother. He thought everything—everyonein life—was fun and games, put there for his amusement.
I fisted my award, the old anger threatening to consume me if Max killed my plan by telling Sunny the truth about Nora's condition.
"Welp, better go say hi to Nan before she cuts me out of her will for showing up late to this thing."
He winked at Sunny. “But if you’re ever interested in having some real fun while I'm here, call me.”
Even if Sunny had been thinking of reaching for the card, she wouldn’t have had the chance.
I gripped her hand tighter and stepped forward, blocking Max and his business card from her view.
“Why do you have a business card, Max?It’s not like you do any real work." I eyed him up and down with cold disdain. "Also, you're aware Sunny’s here with me.”
“But is she having a good time?” Max's expression filled with faux concern. “That’s all I was trying to find out, bro.”
The muscles in my upper torso flexed in an old-but-still-familiar way, and for a few seconds, the odds of me punching my brother out at my own award ceremony increased exponentially.
But I wasn't that guy—thatboy—anymore.
Gritting my teeth, I stepped back and pulled Sunny away from Max without another word.
"What was that all about?" she asked, jogging in her heels to keep up with me.
I pretended I couldn't hear her as I steered her back into the awards dinner space, leaving my brother and his asinine business card behind.
I reminded myself this was about business—just business—as a flood of well-wishers met our re-entry into the ballroom.
I couldn't help but notice how well she played the part of adoring fiancée, squeezing my bicep and sounding genuinely excited for me when anyone bothered to include her in our conversations. She also somehow managed to not look bored when others droned on about business matters she couldn't possibly understand.
I almost felt guilty when the general manager of the Tourmaline came over to slap me on the shoulder.
"I can see why you called in that favor," he leaned in to say quietly before standing back to ask me if I was planning on running the Las Vegas Marathon in November.
"Dunno. I'm still getting over Rock 'n' Roll Las Vegas last week, and this morning, I took one of Sunny's dance classes. Not sure if I'll be good for another endurance challenge by November."
Sunny gasped, her eyes filling with surprise. Was it because I made a joke or because I confessed to another adult male that her little girls' dance class was one of the toughest challenges I'd ever undergone? I couldn't be sure, but her delighted laughter made something warm explode in my chest. For once, small talk didn't feel like an excruciating undertaking.
Nora was wrong to have blackmailed me, and I was going to make her pay for that. But maybe she hadn't been wrong about Sunny being the perfect wife—at least for someone who was ready to settle down. Someone who wasn't me.
The red-hot jealousy that thought roused inside of me further proved the urgency of getting Sunny to sign that contract. I had never needed to fuck somebody out of my system the way I did her.
"Cole Benton! You're a hard man to get a word with tonight."
I inwardly smiled when Rich Harrison's voice boomed behind me.
"Rich..." I gladly turned around with Sunny to shake his hand and tell him, "I was hoping we'd get a chance to set up a game of golf at my club before I left tonight."
To my surprise, Rich didn't answer with the usual booming assurance that he always had time for a round at the best golf club on the Strip (take that, Wynn!).
He was too busy staring at Sunny. Who stared back at him like she'd seen a ghost.
"There you are, Rich! You got away from me." Rich's wife Aretha, a light-brown Georgia Congressman's daughter—who still spoke like a Southern debutante, despite living in Las Vegas for decades—joined her husband, wrapping both hands around his arm. "Congratulations, Cole. The award couldn't have gone to a better candidate."
"No, it could not have," Rich agreed, hastily shifting his gaze away from Sunny and back to me. "I'd be overjoyed to do a round at the best golf club on the Strip. Just give me a date."
