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Future fucking bride? Charlotte Lancaster. “Oh hell no.” I lift my head to find them already watching me. “The Lancasters are fucking lunatics.”
This is my chance out. Why wouldn’t I want to marry this guy? He’s the escape I’ve been looking for.
I don’t want to get married to this woman. Not at all.
“If he’s to accept me, he should accept all of me.” I glance up to find that Charlotte is now looking directly at me. “Right, future husband?”
“Of course, future wife.”
“A collector of what exactly?” Charlotte asks, seeming genuinely curious. “Classic cars,” I answer. “Those souped-up sports cars from the eighties are so—dope. I’ve got a 1969 classic Chevelle that’s orange and badass—”
And if all goes as they planned, I guess I’ll have every right to do so when Charlotte Lancaster becomes my wife.
Perry’s gaze connects with mine, and a huge grin spreads across his face. He holds his arms out. “Future wife!”
Charlotte does as she’s told, making my brows lift. Wonder if she likes to be told what to do in private situations.
Perry Constantine is like a drug. A dangerous one. The kind that sneaks up on you. He’s fun and easygoing and easy to talk to. Charming and charismatic and incredibly handsome.
And then she does the oddest thing. Charlotte lunges for me, wrapping me up in a tight hug. Her scent hits my senses, filling my head and I automatically slip my arms around her waist, holding her close. Noting how we’re a perfect fit.
If my mother could only hear herself. She’s setting back the feminist movement about fifty years, and I don’t even think she cares.
I stare at his golden profile, trying to ignore the way my heart starts to race the longer I look at him. He’s almost too pretty to be real.
I stare up at him, a familiar scent hitting my nose. “You’ve been drinking.” His smile is far too big. “So smart, wife.”
Charlotte’s blonde hair is in a high ponytail and I’m half tempted to give it a solid yank, wrap those silky strands around my fist. So that’s exactly what I do.
“Perry…” “I like it when you say my name.” I shift, pressing my face against her neck and inhaling sharply.
I’m going to break through Charlotte’s walls. Even if it fucking kills me.
I’m not in love with her—I’m not that delusional. But I could grow to care about her. Eventually fall in love with her. Right?
She lifts her head, her blue eyes meeting mine and it’s as if everything else falls away. The music, the wedding planner, my snickering brother, her scowling father. They all disappear. It’s just me and my bride.
She needs someone on her side. I feel like she has no one who’s team Charlotte, and I’m willing to do that for her. “I’m in this.”
We stare at each other, his hand still clutched in mine, his warm thumb streaking across my own, making me shiver.
“He doesn’t like me either.” His expression darkens. “Why the hell not?” “I wasn’t born with a penis.” “Thank God,” Perry mutters. I smile, secretly pleased.
The temptation to touch him again. Lean into him and inhale his delicious scent. Maybe even beg him to kiss me…
She grabs hold of my tie, tugging on it and I drop my head, my mouth landing on hers as if it was the most natural thing in the world, kissing her. Devouring her.
His smile is slow. Devilish. This is a completely different Perry than the one I’m used to. This version is bold. Serious—and hot. Demanding.
He’s the hottest thing alive. I can’t stop staring at him.
I could fall in love with this man. And that’s the last thing I should do.
And this man is going to be my husband. I almost squeal out loud, I’m so happy.
