“I’ll protect your ass until the day I die. You know that.”
She pulls back. “You look beautiful, Harper. It just sucks that your first engagement is going to be fake.”
“Ha-ha. It’s my practice go.”
She nods, biting back a grin. “Practice one before Ace finally does it.”
That’s like a kick to the gut. That was my dream once upon a time. The only way I saw my future. I remember walking past a store window and my perfect ring was right there. We both stopped and stared at it. It was a diamond, but a yellow haze to it.
The more I debate what the hell I’m doing with my life here, the more obvious it is of what I really see in my future. And once this is all over, I’ll seriously think about reaching back out to Ace.
So I don’t reply to Emma, because I don’t know what to say. She squeezes my shoulder.
“Shot before you go?”
“You got tequila?” I ask.
“Yep.”
And after that conversation—not that I ever have any intention of letting Hudson’s dick near me—I’m grabbing my birth control and shoving that in my purse.
"Wow, Hudson," I whisper as he leads me through his parents' entrance.
Cascading spiral staircases on either side. The marble floors are so polished I can see my own reflection staring back at me. A girl in a yellow sundress and cowgirl boots, standing somewhere she doesn’t belong, again.
Everything is immaculate. Everything is curated. Even the flowers on the entryway table look like they've been arranged by someone who went to school for it.
And here I am. Nose ring. Thumb ring. A fake smile and a real sense of dread.
Hudson wanted me to embrace my cowgirl side tonight. He thinks that's what his parents fell for at the gala. That I'm not, as he put it, a glamor model looking for money and power. I'm just a girl in love with a man. The kind of story people would write about and binge-read on a Sunday afternoon.
Except this isn't my story. Not a romance, anyway. More of a psychological thriller.
His mom glides in from one of the side doors with a bright smile, arms already open.
"Hudson, my dear. Come here." She drags him in for a hug, pressing her cheek against his chest, and he lets her.
"Hi, Mom."
I stand back and watch. It's actually sweet. I didn't expect this kind of loving family dynamic—Hudson doesn't behave in a way that suggests he was loved. I half expected his coldness to come from a cold house.
But this house is warm. These people are warm. And I think maybe Hudson is just… a bit of an asshole. I'm sure I'll find out more about the real him. Seeing as I'm about to be engaged to said pain in my ass.
Audrey steps in front of me, resting her hands on my shoulders. Her perfume is soft floral, reminds me of my grandma.
"Look at you, Harper. Glowing. You look absolutely beautiful," she gushes.
I smile. "So do you, Mrs. Blake."
She tuts. "None of that, Harper. Call me Audrey. We're practically family now."
I swallow. Keep the smile stapled to my face.
"Audrey," I repeat. "Thank you so much for inviting me into your home."
Audrey grins at her son. "So polite. It's our pleasure. Would you like to come through to the dining room?"
I nod, and she leads the way. The dining room is long and candlelit, with fresh flowers in low arrangements down the center of a mahogany table that could seat twenty but is set for four. Richard is at the head, watching us enter with those sharp green eyes. He looks thinner than at the gala. The cane is propped against his chair.
