Page 7 of The Revenge Bride

That’s when it hits me. This is real. I’m going to marry the woman I love to hate.

Chapter 3

Lucy

Friday I’ll walk down the aisle. A fake bride with my real enemy. I don’t realize I have a death grip on the steering wheel after we leave Grandpa’s until Rhett points it out.

“If you’re thinking about your fingers around my neck, I won’t go down easy.”

He has a sense of humor. Who knew?“I’m not prone to violence so you should be safe.”

“Not prone to violence. Really? I could have sworn you were on the verge of clocking good old Clyde.” He flashes a grin.

Why, why, why does he have to look even sexier when he’s smiling?To keep us on track and my brain away from thinking those dead-end thoughts, I say, “As soon as we leave your grandparents, let’s draw up our agreement.”

“Sure, but we’ll have to do it at the shop. I have a client coming in for an appointment.”

I’m not surprised he’s busy. There was a lot of buzz the moment he opened Dragon Angels Ink. I wonder if it’s because he’s good at what he does or he looks good doing it.

He sure looked good up on a ladder helping me paint Grandpa’s house.

To distract myself from how good his ass looks, I ask, “Are your grandparents still at the same place?”

“Yep. Same place you stormed years ago.”

“You’re lucky you weren’t home, and your grandmother talked to me and gave me a hug to calm me down.” I’d been so angry when I heard the rumors—the lies—over something I hadn’t done, that I’d driven to his house, ready to have it out with him.

“I didn’t start that rumor,” he says.

“You and I were the only ones locked in the janitor’s closet.”

“Still didn’t start it.”

I don’t believe him. And if I were to look deep inside my brain, I think I might find a connection between what happened that day and my inability to become a happy member of the O team.

Echo says it’s the best thing in the world, but I wouldn’t know if she’s telling the truth. Even a vibrator fails to give me closure.

I turn the car down the long, winding dirt road leading to the yellow, two-story farmhouse. Flowers bloom everywhere alongside the home.

I love this place. It’s welcoming. Peaceful.

Lloyd and Aggie Conley were born in Lucky River and every year for as long as I can remember, they play the parts of Santa and Mrs. Claus at the Christmas ugly sweater competition.

Aggie used to babysit me after elementary school before my grandfather retired and stayed home.

Lloyd greets us from the porch where he was watering plants.

“How is she?” Rhett asks.

Lloyd sets the watering can down and blinks back tears. His voice is gruff. A dam holding back a flood of emotion. “She’s sad today. Keeps saying she doesn’t want to leave me behind.”

What Lloyd said puzzles me.

We go inside and I’m careful not to let the screen door slam behind me in case Aggie is sleeping.

She’s sitting on the sofa staring at the television but glances up when we enter.

“I recognize you both.” She’s smiling, almost giddy after speaking.

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