Page 76 of Bad Run

A wide smile spreads across his handsome face as his eyes devour me from head to toe.

When his gaze returns to my face, his blue irises are the same dark color they were when he watched me fall to my knees in the shower and suck him off.

The nerves I felt in his absence melt away and are replaced with something more sensual and sinful as he takes confident strides in my direction, meeting me by the door.

His peppery citrus cologne reaches my nose before he does. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“You look stunning. Better than I imagined.”

My cheeks heat under his penetrating and appreciative stare. “Thank you for the dress; it’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome. As soon as I saw it, I knew it would look amazing on you.”

“You didn’t have to buy it.”

He smirks. “You’ll learn. I don’t do anything I don’t want to.”

“Even this?” My voice cracks on the single syllable as I wave my hand toward the small altar covered in a delicate spray of white and pink flowers.

“Even that,” he says.

The band around my chest squeezes, and I look away. Lance places his palm on my cheek, forcing me to stare into his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” I admit.

Honestly, I’m riding the wave between panic and excitement, and it’s scaring the absolute crap out of me.

I melt into his warm palm as he traces my cheekbone with his thumb in gentle, soothing circles. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I know.” I truly do. Lance hasn’t pressured me at all. Every step forward has been of my choosing. I think that’s what makes marrying him even more confusing.

He drops his hand from my face and takes a small step back. “So then, what do you want to do, Gwen? Get married or run away?” he asks, almost daring me to run.

I gaze into his eyes, like I would a magic eight ball, and search their piercing blue depths for answers.

Get married or run?

Lance is giving me a way out of this. Our lives can go back to their regular schedule programming; all I have to do is run away right now.

I can go back to living my life as is. No promotion, no fallout with my family, no stress and anxiety over lying …

And no Lance.

Even if this scheme blows us spectacularly, the soft whisper in my heart says it would be worth the ruin.

Lance would be worth it.

I’ve never been one for backing down, and since I’ve come this far.

Fuck it.

“Let’s get married.”

“That’s my girl.” Lance holds out his hand, and I take it.

We thread our fingers together and walk down the aisle toward where our group of friends and the officiant are waiting for us.