Page 119 of Forgot to Tell You Something

I shake my head, although it’s the best idea I’ve heard all night. “They won’t miss me. But you’re the golden boy. They’ll send out a search party for you.”

“I have an idea. We have dinner, I give my speech, and we jet before dessert. Then we get changed and head to Wicked Chucks. Come on, Tally, I have to repay my debt.”

“Eh, I’ll let you off the hook on this one.”

“I don’t want off the damn hook.”

The truth is, I don’t want tolethim off the hook, but I’m not up to competing against American royalty. I step toward the door, motioning inside. “We’d better get back.”

His hand snakes around my arm, pulling me back to him. “Don’t you miss me at all, Darlin?” The words are lighthearted, but the tone of his voice gives it all away. The faint tremble, the slight crack. He’s hurting way more than I presumed.

I want to throw myself at him, slide my tongue along his luscious mouth, and beg him to sink inside me. He’d likely go along with every step. But I’ve risked my heart with Owen—twice—and I’m not sure that three times is a charm. Still, I ache for him. “You can’t sneak out early, but if you leave straight from here, you’ll make the second set. I’ll save you a seat.”

“In our balcony?”

I press a kiss to his cheek, my body screaming for more than that chaste gesture. “Absolutely.”

“Owen, there you are. I wondered where you went. Hello, Tallulah.”

I turn, offering Charlotte a small smile. She towers over me in her stilettos, and I feel like a mouse being stalked by a cat. “Hello, Charlotte. This is a wonderful party.”

“If I learned anything from my mother, it was how to throw a proper soiree.” Her eyes travel the length of my body, but she’s too polite to mention my second-class clothes. “Owen, we have some investors to speak with about the project. If you’ll excuse us, Tallulah. Enjoy the food and drink. It’s all top-shelf.”

Owen catches my gaze, and I force a grin for him, squeezing his hand. “Go on dancing bear, time for the second half of your performance.”

“You’re funny.”

I laugh in earnest, shooting him my best smile.

“I brought a change of clothes with me. I planned on shedding the tux at your apartment.”

“But we’re meeting at Wicked Chucks,” I argue. There’s no way I’ll last the entire night here.

“You haven’t heard my version of tonight yet, and I like it way better. I show up at your apartment. You’re trying to change, but I won’t let you. Instead, I push you down on the bed and slide my tongue inside your sweet pussy. Then I spend the next hour kissing every inch of you, because I crave you, Tally.”

“Owen—” Much more of his illicit narrative and I’ll strip down right here, party etiquette be damned.

“But, since you’re departing early, I’ll have to wait until I get to Wicked Chucks.” His lips caress my ear, his tongue dancing along the rim. “Don’t forget to save me a seat. I will be there, and I will make it worth your while.”

27

Tally

If I force one more smile, my face will crack.

I hate watching Owen stroll back into the party, Charlotte by his side. I hate how naturally they move together. I hate the history they share and the opportunities a woman like that can bring to a man like him.

I hate that I’m on the outside, looking in.

Enough of this damnable self-pity, Tallulah. You want to be a wildflower? Start acting like one.

With a shaky breath and a false bravado, I waltz back into the party, grabbing some delicious and mysterious hors d’oeuvre off a silver tray as I glide back to my table.

Time to suck it up and put on my big girl panties.

Did I mention how much I hate big girl panties?

The next hour sails by, as dinner and drinks flow into the whales with the same ease their money flows out. I know it’s on the up and up, but I can’t help but detest the circus. Just ask the wickedly wealthy for some of their money and call it a day. What’s with the endless buttering up?

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