Page 182 of Filthy Rich Santas

“I know we hit a rough patch, baby, but hearing your voicemail the other day? It reminded me why I fell in love with you in the first place.”

I blink. “What?”

“You sounded so happy, so carefree,” he murmurs. “It reminded me of why I loved you, and what a good partnership we’ll make now that you’ve come out of your slump.”

I stiffen in his embrace, my mind racing. Then it hits me—the accidental call I made to him on our road trip. The butt dial where he heard a recording of me laughing with Tristan, Ryder, and Beckett.

“My slump?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

He brushes my cheek, then tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “You have to admit you’d stopped being any fun before our unfortunate break, but I’m willing to move on from that. It’s why I’m here, just like we originally planned.”

He beams at me again, like he actually expects me to accept that as a compliment and just fall right in line with his pompous, unasked for grand gesture.

I pull back slightly, meeting his gaze. There’s not a shred of doubt in his eyes, no sign that he’s stopped to consider my feelings or wonder why on earth I was in a “slump” in the first place.

He’s right that I sounded carefree and happy the day I accidentally called him. It was because of the three men I’ve fallen for.

“Smile, Lana,” Wade says softly, but with a hint of bite in the words. “Your parents are taking pictures.”

The shock I’m in suddenly gives way to a kind of fury I’ve never felt before. Wade doesn’t want me. He doesn’t even know me. He just wants the version of me that will look good on his arm, and he honestly thinks he can just waltz back into my life, pick back up where we left off, and pretend the breakup never happened.

Judging by the smug look on his face, he thinks I’ll be grateful for it.

A flash goes off nearby, and Wade leans in as if he’s going to kiss me again.

I jerk away, my chest tight.

“What the hell, Wade?” I snap, backing away from him. The room falls silent, all eyes on us.

He reaches for me, his smile turning strained. “Come on now, baby, I’m sorry for showing up late, but the important thing is that I’m here now.”

I knock his hands away and straighten my spine, meeting his gaze head-on.

“No, the important thing is that you’re full of shit.”

“Lana!” my mother gasps.

“Don’t make a scene,” Wade says tightly, finally lowering his voice a little. “You’re embarrassing your parents.”

He’s wrong. I’m pissing my parents off.He’sthe one who looks embarrassed. And while in the past, either one of those things would have made me instinctively shrink down to appease everyone, right now, I just don’t care.

The old Lana might very well have gone along with this farce, just to make other people happy.

But the woman I am now sure as hell won’t.

“You want to talk about making a scene?” I ask, holding his gaze as I raise my voice. “What do you call showing up uninvited and announcing an engagement that doesn’t exist?”

Gasps and murmurs ripple through the crowd. Wade’s face flushes, his composure slipping. “Lana, please?—”

“No,” I cut him off, my voice clear and strong. “I’m not marrying you, Wade. We broke up, remember? You dumped me. You told me, and I quote, chubby girls aren’twife material.”

“Lana,” my mother hisses again, her gaze darting around the room as twin spots of color bloom on her cheeks. “Keep your voice down.”

“No,” I tell her simply. “My ex-fiancé just told everyone here a lie. Don’t you think he’s the one you should be chastising right now, Mom?”

“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” she says tightly. “Isn’t that right, Wade?”

“Of course it is, Mrs. Reeves,” Wade says, a muscle starting to tick in his jaw as he glances around the room. “I even brought Lana something special for Christmas?—”

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