Page 48 of One Billion Reasons

“Damn.” Amanda sits back against the wall, a little stunned.

Catherine looks over at her. “Girl, you fucked up.” And when we all laugh, I feel a little bit more like I belong.

Amanda shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “Miles and I never would have worked. I can’t believe I thought even a business arrangement with him was a good idea. We would have been bored in five minutes. Richard is the guy for me.” Her face softens at the mention of her fiancé.

“Why is your father on a mission to destroy Miles then?” The words pop out and Amanda’s eyes go wide.

“Is he?” She seems genuinely surprised.

“Yeah. He is. Miles told me he’s said some rude things and ruined a few business deals. He’s pretty upset about it.”

Amanda’s forehead is wrinkled with concern. “That’s not right. Miles agreed to marry me because I asked and broke it off when I asked. He hasn’t done anything wrong.” She squeezes my shoulder. “I’ll talk to my father. Thanks for telling me.”

Amanda sticks around for a little while and then wanders off. It’s almost time for our treatments.

“She’s really nice. I didn’t expect her to be so friendly,” I say to Catherine.

Catherine nods, but she seems a world away. Maybe thinking about her inheritance? There’s something very melancholy about her, and it tugs on my heart.

“Do you think you’ll find someone here?” I ask quietly.

She turns to me with a sad smile. “I don’t know. I have trouble putting myself out there.”

“Me too.” Ever since I grew up the baby of the family, protected by my parents and then Liam. It feels like I’ve never had practice at failing, until now, when I can’t seem to stop. At least people are buying our story. I’m a decent fake girlfriend.

“If you want some help finding a nice guy while you’re here, I’m your girl.”

She smiles at me. “Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yes.” I nod, smiling slightly. “I told you, I can always tell if couples are serious. I’m an excellent judge of character. It comes from seeing all the awful people at weddings over the years. And I don’t want to sound mystical, but sometimes I just know if people are right together.” My mom would have called it a sixth sense. My chest pinches for a second, and I steel myself until the grief passes.

Catherine squeezes my shoulder. “Thank you. I’m glad I met you, Lane.”

We finish at the spa, and my heart is a little lighter as I head to the deck for today’s events, even as nerves at seeing Miles swirl in my stomach.

23

Miles

Lane looks hot and prepared for anything. She’s wearing absurdly practical outdoor gear. Yoga pants and little hiking boots and another one of those tight tank tops. Her nose stud is in today, and her hair is down and feathery around her face. I want to grab her and haul her back to my room. She looks wary and nervous, and I’m sure she doesn’t want me to touch her, but people are watching.

I give her a faint smile and pull her against me. She’s stiff and awkward.

“Breathe, Laney.” I brush my lips over her hair. The silky strands tickle my lips, and her warm scent fills my nose. “I’m going to grope you,” I murmur, and she huffs a laugh into my chest, but relaxes a fraction. I run a palm over her back. Warm skin, then smooth fabric, then warm skin right above her waistband. I feather my thumb over the indent at the base of her spine, and she shudders against me. Shit. I step away before my body gets any ideas.

Her eyes are a little hazy, and she looks relaxed. I feel triumphant. Bad, Miles. I pull her over to the wall overlooking the waves.

“Hi.” She smiles sheepishly. “I want to be mad at you. But that note was really sweet. And you give really good hugs.”

“I’d prefer for you not to be mad.” One side of my mouth kicks up.

“The dresses helped.” Her eyes dance.

“I picked them out myself.”

“Oh. I assumed George picked them. Or a personal shopper.”

I shake my head. “And I think I got your size right too.” Is it clever or sad that years of staring at Lane and sharing a house with her means I know every detail of her body?

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