Page 19 of Cruel Expectations

“I just thought you might want to rest. Aren’t you jetlagged?”

“You forget parties in Europe go all night.” She rushed to the mirror and began applying powder to her face, concentrating on her nose. In the reflection, she saw Meadow still sitting on her bed. “I’ll meet you outside in a couple minutes, sissy. I just need to slap on some lipstick and run a brush through my hair.”

Meadow chewed her lip. “All right. Don’t be too long.” She stood, looking dazzling in fitted jeans that ended in her favorite embroidered cowgirl boots and a red top that Ivy might borrow next time they visited Badlands.

After she completed her hair and makeup, she assessed her reflection in the mirror. The sweater she’d nicked from Meadow was great, hugging her body in all the right places. But these boring old leggings would have to go.

She rummaged through her suitcase and came out with a tiny scrap of silver sequins. When she thrifted the garment in Berlin, she wasn’t quite sure if it was a top or a skirt. She wore it both ways, but today it would go fantastic with the sweater as a skirt.

The real dilemma came in choosing footwear. Badlands always had music and dancing. High heels were much more metropolitan…

“But when in Rome.” From her closet, she dug out her old black cowgirl boots and slipped them on. Oh gawd. She moaned. She’d forgotten how good her trusty boots felt.

After a quick glance in the mirror, Ivy sailed out the door to meet her sister and her boyfriend.

Meadow and Colton stood near the truck. Their heads were bent together. As Ivy looked on, her sister lifted her face, and Colton kissed her.

It wasn’t just a kiss—the man claimed her.

Ivy stopped halfway to the truck, glancing around for a place to duck behind while Colton practically tongue-fucked Meadow.

“There’s no escaping them. I already tried.”

The deep baritone had her hair prickling, but not in a good way. Ivy turned her head to pierce Hunter in her stare. “They are in love.”

He made that low noise in the back of his throat. The one that made Ivy want to roll her eyes or hiss like a cat every time she heard it.

Colton pressed her sister up against the side of the truck. Meadow wrapped her body around him like a second skin.

Great. Now they were practically dry-humping.

If interrupted, they’d break it up, right? In long strides, she took off for the vehicle.

As soon as she neared the couple, they looked up, saw her and broke apart.

“I’m ready. Thanks for waiting for me, guys.” She could mention her sister’s disheveled state or the fact that Colton wore an arrogant smile, but Ivy prided herself on her poise.

She reached for the door handle.

“Ivy. What are you wearing?”

She met her sister’s eyes. “Your sweater.”

“And?”

She looked down at the cute toes of her boots. “My favorite old boots.”

Colton issued a low cough, which he did not manage to conceal behind his fist. And a grunting noise was probably formulating in Hunter’s throat right this very second.

She waved a hand over her skirt. “Oh, this old thing?”

Meadow gave her a solemn nod that sent Colton into a real coughing fit.

“I know what you’re going to say, Meadow. And I’m not fifteen anymore. I’m wearing the skirt.”

“It’s more like a sequined postage stamp,” a rough voice muttered.

She whirled on Hunter, giving him her hottest glare before she opened the door of the truck. Before she climbed in, she tossed out, “Is Hunter really going to fit in at Badlands? He doesn’t seem the partying type.”

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