Page 43 of Until I Own You

My friend runs a hand through his blond waves and squeezes his eyes shut. “Um…”

I need to make the deal as sweet as possible. “I don’t need any of the subs. I don’t need a mistress at the desk. I just need the Underground. All to myself. No distractions.”

Nate scrubs a hand over his face. “That’s a huge ask, Seth.”

“I know it is. And I’ll owe you. I promise, I’ll–”

“Fine. I’ll get it done.”

I blink at him. “You will?”

He slides his hands into the pockets of his joggers, glancing over his shoulder down the hall. “If it wasn’t for you, we probably wouldn’t have worked things out with Laney.”

I smile. I remember the phone call Mason made to me all those months ago when the three of them were vacationing together at the cabin upstate. How confused he was over his feelings for Laney and the lack of jealousy he had over her relationship with Nate. “I didn’t do anything, Nate. Not really.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

If it gets me what I want, fine, I won’t. “You’re right. I am the reason you three are together.”

He laughs, head thrown back.

“And I helped with that amazing proposal.”

“True, true.”

“At this point, you should name your first-born son after me,” I egg him on with humor.

Nate lifts a finger. “Now you’re pushing it.”

I laugh, then lock eyes with my friend. “So, we have a deal?”

Nate holds out his hand.

I take it and we shake.

“Deal,” Nate replies.

Step one of my plan to burn down the world, complete.

9

BRIDGET

I run my hand down the bolt of burgundy fabric.

The velvet caresses my hand, soft and whispering. This might be perfect. I slide the bolt off the shelf.

Abigail groans. “Another one?”

I smile at her over my shoulder and drop the bolt onto the stack she’s already balancing in her arms. They’re all moody and dark, a far cry from my original pastels and florals. I have a whole new collection in mind. “This is what you get for being my assistant.”

“Begrudging assistant,” Abigail mutters.

Laughing, I continue down the rows of bolts, squeezed onto the shelf, a library of fabrics. The fabric store is like my church. The place I can go to worship, to expand, to create.

My mind has been racing with new ideas since the wedding.

All it took was two minutes. Two minutes of playing in the world I’ve coveted for years. And everything clicked into place. Made sense. Broke open.

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