Page 85 of Honor

I pull back to gaze down at her. “I’ll head out so she doesn’t ask a million questions you don’t want to answer.”

“Okay.” She nods.

Reluctantly, I let go of her and take off in a sprint to the left and into the darkness so Charlotte will find Evie alone on the beach.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Evie

Logic will never getyou laid.

That piece of advice came from my sister when I was in high school. Tracey stopped by our folks’ home one Saturday night to find me with my nose buried in a history book. I was cramming for an exam the following week.

Since one of her friends was the older sister of one of my friends, Tracey knew a party was happening at the house of one of the wealthiest families in town.

She told me to ditch the book, dress in something that would turn heads, and march down to the party.

I laughed and told her that wouldn’t serve me well because I had a future to think of.

That’s when she spouted that gem of wisdom about my prospects of getting laid if I always took the logical approach to life.

For the record, I didn’t forgo my studies for sex that night, or most nights through high school or college, for that matter.I followed the path toward a degree because I thought it would fulfill me in ways nothing, including great sex, could.

Since I’ve only ever had good sex, I still don’t know if great sex is worth venturing off the life path I have planned for myself, but I’m tempted to find out.

“The worst that can happen is that after he fucks me, he fires me,” I whisper to myself. “He’ll have to pay out my contract since he won’t have a justifiable reason for terminating it.”

I wander into the bathroom attached to my bedroom to look in the mirror. “Baden will give me a good recommendation, and Cleo has business contacts all over New York City, so I’ll find a marketing position sooner rather than later.”

My self pep talk puts a smile on my face.

I reach to where I left my makeup bag on the counter and reapply my lipstick. I shouldn’t be doing that because it’s the middle of the night, and sleep is tempting me, but so is Reid.

The big problem with that is I don’t know which bedroom he’s staying in, and I’d hate to knock on a door and find a half-naked, or maybe totally naked, Pete behind it.

I peek out of the bathroom toward the bed. My phone is right there. All it would take is a quick text message to my boss to ask him to stop by my room.

I close my eyes to further weigh the pros and cons because spontaneity and I don’t have a close relationship, or we didn’t until I decided to become the maid of honor for a stranger.

At this moment, I can’t tell if that was a wise move or a huge misstep.

The sound of a chime fills the still air.

Panic hits me immediately because late night text messages are rarely a good thing. I spring forward and race toward the bed, gathering my phone in my hands while my heart races.

My breath catches as soon as I see the sender’s name, and when I read the message, I have to sit down on the edge of the bed out of fear of passing out.

Mr. Hunt: To answer your question, I don’t have condoms with me, but I can think of at least a dozen ways to make you come right now that only involve my hands and mouth.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. “I’m asleep. I must be asleep. This has to be a dream.”

Any notion that I am indeed lost in a dream is shattered when his next text message pops up on my phone’s screen.

Mr. Hunt: To answer the question I thought you were going to ask, your job is safe. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen this weekend won’t change that.

As I think about all of that, I change his name in my contact list from Mr. Hunt to Reid because I need that division if I’m going to even consider getting naked with him.

Naturally, my thoughts wander back to the beach and how he looked in his swimming trunks.

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