Page 29 of Taking Chances

“She’s beautiful.” Her voice is low as she stares.

“Is she?”

She rolls her eyes at my response. “Come on.”

“I’m not joking.” My mouth gets dangerously close to her ear. “I’d be crazy to notice anyone after seeing you in that dress.” My gaze travels the length of her as a shiver runs through her.

Nowthatwas some good fake-date shit. Though I guess no one heard since I was whispering.

But it was also the truth. The bride looks nice in a probably couture wedding dress, but she couldn’t hold a candle to the nervous girl standing next to me.

Sitting down at the table, Anne crosses one leg over the other, making the slit of the dress open, showing me miles of silky skin.

Guess my dick won’t have to do much pretending today.

A server approaches us with a tray of champagne. I go to grab two glasses, but Anne stops my arm.

“Actually, I’ll take a sparkling water. Thank you.” Her gaze quickly moves to her sister and back to the server.

“Come on, baby. Have a glass with me.” I wink, and once again, her cheeks blush.

If I turned her blushing into a drinking game, I’d be dead by the end of the night.

She shyly takes the glass, but I hold her gaze as we clink our glasses and drink the champagne. I down my glass in one take, eliciting a small chuckle from Anne.

“So, Lennox, what do you do?” Kaitlyn asks, breaking the moment.

“I’m a mechanic. A wannabe mechanic, to be perfectly honest.” I shrug as her eyes expand in horror.

Anne chokes on a laugh before she intervenes. “Lennox used to play hockey. And now, he’s building his own garage to work on vintage motorcycles.”

I don’t know what shocked Kaitlyn more—the hockey or the motorcycles.

“I see. Well, hockey is definitely a… dangerous sport.” Dangerous is probably the politest word she could have thought of.

“Sure is. Matter of fact, most of my teeth are fake.” I flash her a blinding smile.

Kaitlyn continues her interrogation, Brad backing her up, but I really don’t give a damn what they think about me. I’m aware I’m not good enough for Anne. But not because she should be with a pretentious douche like Bryce. It’s because she deserves the world.

Eventually, she turns back to Anne. “That’s an interesting choice for a dress. I certainly wouldn’t be brave enough to wear it.”

Anne looks like Kaitlyn slapped her and that won’t do. “It’s easier to wear when a person looks good in it.” I shoot her another fake smile and she practically snarls. “And Anne looks fucking spectacular.” I put my hand on her thigh, and she relaxes under my touch.

As the newlyweds approach our table, we all get up to congratulate them.

“Annie,” Bryce says and Anne freezes in place.

“I’m so glad you came,” Yasmin, Bryce’s wife squeals in that high-pitched fake voice girls sometimes use.

Her hair is as bleached as Kaitlyn’s, her giant eyelashes make blinking seem like hard work.

“Bryce,” the groom says, shaking my hand.

“Lennox,” I respond, putting more force into the handshake than necessary. His smile looks like he overdid it with whiteners, and he’s at least a few inches shorter than me, not that I’m counting. His sandy blond hair is held together by a ton of product and his suit must have cost a fortune.

“We were so sorry with how everything turned out for you.” Pity laces Yasmin’s voice, like Anne’s a dog they had to rehome, and sparks of rage start building up inside of me. “I’m glad to see you also found someone.”

Anne is too stunned to speak, not missing the insinuation from the smiling bride. Bryce uses the time to size Anne up from head to toe, making my blood boil.

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