Brielle’s eyes turn into saucers, and I chuckle as I slide my arm over her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” I whisper into her ear as I guide her into the restaurant. “We still have a lot to learn about each other. For instance, I had no idea you were so into cowboys,” I say to remind her how ridiculously dressed she is.
“Oh God,” Brielle gasps. “Wait. I can’t go in there.” She glances up at me and glares. “This is all your fault.”
“Mine?” I bark out a laugh. “Nah, that outfit was all you, Princess. Giddyup.”
Not wantingBrielle to be completely embarrassed, even though she deserves it, I have the hostess sit us in a private corner on the terrace that overlooks the Atlantic. Brunch goes well, our topics flitting from business to personal. Mal and Viv have moved up to northernFlorida to be closer to her family, so I haven’t seen them in several months, and it’s nice to catch up with my friends.
“You’ll have to come back down for the wedding,” I tell them, taking the check and sliding my card inside.
“What? You’re getting married?” Genevieve gushes, glancing at Brielle’s hand.
While I’m close with them, nobody—besides Brielle’s family—knows that our marriage is a farce.
“Not yet,” I say, pulling Brielle into my arms. “But she’s the one—I can feel it.” I kiss her temple and inhale her vanilla scent. “And I fully plan to make her mine sooner rather than later.”
Genevieve, ever the romantic, sighs. “I never thought I’d see the day. You were always the perpetual bachelor.”
“Guess it was just a matter of finding the right woman.”
I tilt Brielle’s head back and look into her azure eyes, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s putting on an act, but for the first time since the night we spent together—before she knew who I was—she willingly brings her lips to mine.
Her tongue slips between my parted lips, and the moment I taste her sweetness, I get caught up in everything that is Brielle, wanting and craving more of her.
But I need to be careful because addiction is nothing to fuck with.
My dad was addicted to power.
My mom was addicted to my father.
And Enrique was addicted to revenge.
And look how those situations turned out.
My father is buried six feet under. My mother is heartbroken. And my brother’s body is nothing but ash. And if I let my addiction get the better of me, I’ll end up like the rest of my family.
14
Brielle
He’s goingto do it tonight. I can feel it.
Kane is going to propose.
It’s been a week since I was forced to move in with him.
Since I came up with the bright idea to infiltrate his bedroom and bathroom with my stuff, thinking it’d overwhelm him, only for him to not even bat an eye.
Not that it should surprise me.
Every game I play, Kane ends up winning.
I dressed like a knockoff cowgirl to go to a business brunch, thinking he’d either tell me to change or I’d be denied admittance to the country club, but he was one step ahead, taking us to his restaurant.
I tried to seduce him, thinking it would lead to getting info out of him, but one kiss, and I threw my plan out the window, unable to handle being that close to him—not if I had any chance of resisting my soon-to-be husband.
I leave my clothes all over the floor like a slob, and they magically end up washed and hung up. I scatter my makeup and lotions all over the his-and-hers sinks and counters, and when I go to wash my face in the evening, it’s all neatly placed on my side.
