Page 83 of The Fiance Dilemma

A leather trench coat crowned by a blond bob popped into view, right in front of them. She stretched an arm, pointy black nails shining under one of the many garden lamps. I started breathing a little easier. Bobbi had this under control. Of course she did. She— The press hive swarmed her. Oh God, was she okay?

I tugged at Matthew’s shirt. “Matt—”

A flash blinded me. I blinked, trying to make my eyes work. My vision flickered, but just as I started making sense of what was behind the buzz surrounding us, another bright, blinding light wentoff. Then another. Pop. Pop, pop, pop. Something moved in front of me. Someone. Matthew, because he was no longer at my side.

“Put that down,” I heard him bark. And oh boy, he sounded so… angry. So absolutely unlike himself. This wasn’t the plan. This hadn’t been. I blinked the stars away, his back coming into focus with a realization, I’d miscalculated the situation. Matthew’s words were calm. Low. “Put. That. Camera. Down.”

I tried to move around him, but he stretched out an arm, stopping me. I peeked over it, watching Duncan approach, smiling. Relaxed. As if born for this. As if ready to collect some reward, even with a visibly annoyed Andrew by his side.

“Come on, gentlemen,” Duncan said. Easy. Ever the Southern gentleman. Talking to Andrew and Matthew and disregarding me. “There’s no reason to get all tense and stiff. This is a party. A great one, at that. I thought some of the local outlets would benefit from a little spice. It’s not every day that Andrew Underwood visits. And we also have somewhat of a celebrity on our hands now. I’m sure she’ll have her moment, too.” He turned toward Andrew. “Now, let’s take a picture together, Andrew. If you don’t mind, of course. Then we can pick up our conversation somewhere else, away from curious eyes and ears.”

I knew in that exact moment what Duncan was doing here.

“Andrew,” I warned. And I didn’t know what got into me, or why I said what I did, but the words left me before I could stop them. “Let’s go back to the bar. The merlot really is excellent. We should try it.”

Andrew frowned for a second. Duncan stepped closer to him, his arm already pointing at the spot where they should pose. My father hesitated for a long moment, and I really didn’t want to, but I held my breath as I smiled at him.Trust me,I wanted to tell him with that smile.Duncan just wants to take advantage of you, your status, your name, your money, probably.I didn’t. I just…

“Later,” my father said.

Something in my chest halted. Fell. Or maybe all of me did. “Of course,” I said with a chuckle meant to be light. Reassuring.

But Andrew didn’t need my reassurance. He had already turned around.

I felt so dumb in that moment. So dumb and tiny.

It was laughable really, that I thought he’d somehow choose a glass of merlot over Duncan. Choosemeover him. It was also laughable that a part of me had thought for an instant—even if short—that Duncan would be here for me. Of course he wasn’t. Both Matthew and Bobbi had been so wrong to assume that. Duncan was here for my father. An endorsement? A photo op? Some of that somber muttering they both were so good at? God knew. I could all but picture the way his office must have somehow gotten ahold of someone and landed an invitation to this. We used to joke about that. How he could walk into a party and make it his. How his mama had raised him better than that, but good boys didn’t get far without a trick up their sleeve.

The trick wasn’t me. It never had been and it wasn’t now. And my father seemed to agree.

“Josie?” Matthew asked.

I angled my body toward him but kept my gaze somewhere else. His shoulder. I smiled, hoping he wasn’t realizing where my head had gone. I hoped he couldn’t see how insignificant I was feeling and how much I hated that any of it was affecting me. But Matthew always managed to see a little more than I liked him to.

“Look at me,” he demanded, and who was I to deny that? His expression was grim. His body exuding the kind of tension I didn’t like. Coming off him in waves.

“Hey,” I said, my eyes were stinging, and God, I hated that. “Should we go check out that gazebo? You promised me.”

Matthew’s face filled with something that told me that was offthe table now. His lips parted, and I hoped it wasn’t a no, because I didn’t think I’d be able to take it. “I’m—”

A new flash went off.

Right in both our faces. I flinched, and when my vision returned, Matthew was cursing, shoulders turning around. I panicked. Not because I didn’t trust him, but because I didn’t want him to be angry over this. Do something he’d regret, like snatching away that camera that had been way too close to us. It wasn’t worth it.

It really wasn’t. Not for this. Not for me.

My hands closed around his arms.

Matthew’s gaze bounced back to me, but not his attention. Not completely. That flash went off again, and his expression turned furious. He was really going after that camera. So I did the only thing I could think of to stop him.

I kissed my fiancé.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

In hindsight, I realized I shouldn’t have used my lips to distract him.

We had agreed on a safe word that night.

So I could have used it. I could have punched his arm. Or pinched his side. Swatted at his ass. Broken into song. Pop, lock, drop it. Pretended to faint. Even screamed or yelped at everyone around me to stop.

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