Page 6 of The Pucking Grump

I blink at her, torn between feeling impressed at the fact that she is a lot more than the ditsy romance-obsessed girl I thought she was and annoyance at her presumptuousness.

“You can’t just ask a total stranger to sneak you out of your wedding and not even give a good reason as to?—”

“You want a reason? Fine!” She lets out a pained growl. “I found my fiancé fucking my stepsister. Like, literally ten minutes ago. And even if no one else seems to think that’s enough reason to call this thing off, I do. But I can’t make it out of here in this dress all by myself. So, I’m asking you for help.”

I’m genuinely stunned. I don’t even know which sentence is the most surprising. I think of all of the sappy love songs she has released over the past few years for Weak Chin. How in love with him she seemed to be.

And she’s only just realizing that he’s not that into her?

She’s turning again to glance at the security men, and I notice with slight surprise that they are now four in number, spreading out, their heads swiveling as they scan the grounds.

It’s like a freaking spy movie.

“I need this,” she mutters, her lips trembling as her eyes fill with tears. “Please.”

Something about her helplessness strikes me in the middle of my cold, dead heart.

This is not what I signed up for. Not even close.

But I would be the biggest jackass in the world if I just walked away, with her vulnerability bleeding out of her like this.

I close my eyes, letting my thoughts run wild, considering the worst possible scenario in this situation.

Her security detail could come after us.

But so what?

What are they going to do?

Force a grown woman who is very likely the one signing their paychecks to go with them against her will? Or she could change her mind and decide she wants to wed Weak Chin after all, forcing me to turn back around.

What do I care?

When I open my eyes, tears are spilling down her cheeks.

Again.

“Please,” she mutters one last time, her voice cracking.

I force myself to dismiss my earlier concerns. This woman seems done with her fiancé and the wedding. She appears to be sure enough of her decision.

The only way she’s going down that aisle today is if someone drags her by her ears.

And I sure won’t let it come to that.

One of the bodyguards is already drawing closer to where we are. He’ll spot us in a few moments.

I have two choices. To wait and let Faye be confronted. Or to turn around and beat a path to where my G-Wagon is parked, runaway bride in tow.

I look at her tear-stained face and the bodyguard, who is closer now than ever.

My shoulders grow taut as I reach out for her hand. She folds her perfectly manicured fingers into mine. Another dizzying surge runs through my groin.

Fuck. I’m going to regret this.

“Let’s go.”

3

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