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Gemma’s perfect white teeth sank into the plush swell of her bottom lip, her eyes flitting upward, crinkling softly at the corners. “Well, hello.”
Tansy fingered the topmost button of her cardigan and tried not to squirm under Gemma’s hot, heavy-lidded stare, confusion gnawing at her insides, panic ratcheting her pulse.
Gemma’s eyes narrowed, gaze ping-ponging between Tansy and Tucker, her curious stare growing calculated. A hot rush of blood raced to fill Tansy’s face, leaving her dizzy. This was it. The moment she’d been dreading; six months of lies were about to come crashing down around her. “Six months, huh?” Gemma’s lips quirked. “I guess time really flies when you’re having fun.”
“No way,” Tucker muttered, suddenly looking a little less sure. “Way.”
“Mmm, that’s nice. I like it when you talk nerdy. Is that something you do often?” Because Gemma could really get behind that. And on top of it. All over it. Unf.
“Look, in the morning I’ll be sober, and I can guarantee I’ll still want to marry you.”
“Marry me and I can promise pathetic will be the last thing anyone calls you.”
“Don’t think of this as a marriage. Think of it as a—a business merger. A marriage of convenience.”
She was a total fucking goner. Whatever magic Tansy was made of, Gemma wanted to drown in it, revel in the honeyed heat burning her up from the inside out. It was better than the finest bourbon she’d ever had the pleasure of sipping.
“Go away, now.” “I’m not here to convert you.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, considering her through narrowed eyes.
“Don’t start with me.” “I didn’t start this, you did.” She threw a glare over her shoulder. “But trust me when I say I intend to finish it.”
“Careful.” Gemma took a smaller sip of scotch. “Curiosity killed the cat.” “You’re forgetting the second half of the saying. But satisfaction brought it back.”
With her parents, Tansy had seen firsthand what it looked like to be truly, madly, deeply in love with someone and loved back just as fiercely.
Craving something you didn’t have a name for, like living life in black and white until the day you realized there was a whole spectrum of color out there.
Tansy didn’t drink, not beyond a glass of wine here or there, but she was tempted to take the bottle from Gemma if only so she could press her lips to the place where Gemma’s mouth had been.
No one had ever made Tansy feel this way, this desperate to be touched, desperate to touch in return. No one had ever made her feel this . . . alive, all too aware of each breath she took, cognizant of where Gemma’s skin touched hers, as if branded by her touch, belonging.
Namely, she had a fiancée to woo.
“You told me you weren’t looking for romance.” “You’re right.” She nodded. “I wasn’t looking. But lo and behold, lucky for me, I found you anyway.”
“I take care of what’s mine, okay?” Gemma’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “And you are mine, aren’t you?”
Gemma (8:18 p.m.): Tansy, sweetheart, just . . . I’ve never gotten the chance to woo anyone before. It’s new. All of this is new for me.
“What Tansy does or doesn’t deserve isn’t for you to decide. That’s her decision to make. You making that call for her is an insult to her intelligence.”
“Let’s say I try. What happens the next time I inevitably fuck up?” “Then you wake up the next day and you try again and fail again and fail better.”
