I couldn’t exist in a world where Cutler Heart wasn’t at the center of it.
Loving him scared the hell out of me.
But losing him—that would be the worst thing that could ever happen to me.
twenty-three
. . .
Cutler
If you lookedup the term “shit show” in the dictionary, I was fairly certain it would refer you to this exact moment in time.
My parents were here.
Gracie’s parents were here.
Graciewas here.
And we’d now tossed in the Langfords, who no one seemed prepared for, most of all me.
They were definitely on a mission to marry their daughter off, and I appeared to be the front-runner for that position at the moment.
A man they didn’t know jack shit about, other than the fact that I was friends with the Reynolds family.
“I don’t know how committed you are to construction, but I’ll be looking for someone to take over my company someday,” Grant Langford said, and my father spewed beer from his mouth, causing us all to startle.
Yeah, welcome to my life, Pops.
You brought them here.
“I’m so sorry. It must have gone down the wrong pipe.” Pops used his napkin to dab his face as my mother gaped at me.
I’d been grilled throughout the entire dinner.
I’d been asked about my profession, which he’d shown no interest in.
I’d been asked how long I’d owned my home.
If I had a 401k.
Did I use a financial planner.
What my ten-year plan was.
I was surprised he hadn’t asked me the last time that I’d had sex, but I had a feeling this night was far from over.
“I’m very committed to building homes and expanding the company.” I cleared my throat, glancing over at Gracie, who’d tried multiple times to interject and change the subject—though she’d had no luck.
“Ohhhhh. I like a man who wants to get his hands dirty,” Britani said, scooting closer to me for the third time, which meant the arm of her chair was touching mine where we sat outside. She covered my hand with hers, which caught me completely off-guard. I barely knew this woman. And this was all going down in front of Gracie, and no one knew how incredibly awkward this was for both of us.
I glanced over at her and noted the way her hand gripped the arm of her chair, knuckles white. She took another long sip of her wine, and I knew she was just trying to get through this night.
We both were.
I pulled my hand away and settled it on my lap. “You didn’t mention it, what do you do for a living, Britani?”
We’d heard about her father’s business. He owned several car lots, and he’d let it be known that he was very successful. Extremely successful. Presley appeared horrified, and she keptshooting me looks of apology. I did my best to keep my smile easy, because there was nothing we could do at this point.
