Page 1 of Fumbling for Perfection

CHAPTER ONE

RILEY

“I’m not saying you have to bang the next hot guy who walks through the door, but at least consider going home withsomeonetonight. It’s your last night as a single woman. You gotta live it up, Riley.” Kendall clinks her glass against mine and chugs the rest of her lemon drop martini.

“Iamliving it up by being at this nightclub with you the night before my engagement announcement and wearing this slutty dress.” As soon as I finish the last of my rum and Diet Coke, Kendall grabs my wrist and tugs me back out onto the dance floor.

“You should wear slutty dresses more often. You look hot.” Kendall’s auburn ponytail swings as she dances to Beyonce.

Not a soul here would guess my best friend is a sweet kindergarten teacher during the day, and a dirty-talking, slutty-clothes-wearing party girl at night. We’ve got the foul mouth in common, but when it comes to the rest, we’re total opposites.

We became instant friends the moment she walked into my new sports performance center, Boston Strong, and signed up for my Pilates classes four years ago.

If it wasn’t for Kendall, Rowan, and Jackson, I wouldn’t have a life outside of work. I’ve never been a social person. Not even in high school. I ran cross country, thriving on the time by myself, the wind on my face, my legs taking me away from nothing and leading me still toward nothing.

“Riley. As soon as that rock weighs down your finger, your life is going to change. Some for the good, some for...”

She doesn’t need to finish the sentence. We both know what’s going to happen once Jackson and I announce our engagement tomorrow and get married in two months. His mother and her crew—who all signed an NDA because that’s what one does when they work for the Bankeses—have already been working on our June wedding. I’ve had zero input, which I’m totally on board with.

If I had my way, we’d elope. Or better, go to the town hall, sign a piece of paper, and be done with it. I love Jackson and he loves me but...that’s not why we’re getting married.

Lydia Bankes and her entourage have a weekend-long engagement party planned for us. Or rather, for Jackson. But mostly for her and her husband. I met Lydia and Sebastian Bankes once at an upscale restaurant in Boston. They hardly paid any attention to me. And I’m okay with that too.

Sebastian did most of the talking—business, of course—and kept it directed toward Jackson while Lydia and I sat as silent partners who were meant to be seen and not heard.

Jackson had warned me that was how it was going to be, and I really didn’t mind. Better to be mute than to have to fake niceties to people I don’t know and who have no desire to get to know me.

I have tonight to be simply me before I turn into Mrs. Bankes.

I’m sure one of the many reasons Jackson’s parents have no desire to get to know me is because I have no pedigree. I’m an only child who lost her mother to complications of pneumonia when I was ten and whose father was away more than he was home, driving trucks across the country to keep a roof over our heads and food on our table.

While I don’t have a college degree, I did run cross country for a Division 1 school until I couldn’t afford my tuition bill my senior year. My father’s back injury meant he couldn’t drive for six months, which also meant there was no way to pay the mortgage on our trailer and no money to buy groceries unless I dropped out of school and got a job.

Kendall takes my hands, snapping me out of my sad trip down memory lane, and forces me to dance with her. She grinds her ass into a stranger behind her, not caring about his hands on her hips. Lately, she’s been going through men faster than a tornado ripping up a trailer park.

She’s wild and carefree, while I’m the one who wants the relationship, the commitment, the kids, the house, and the happily ever after. Not that I’ll admit it.

Jackson can provide me with most of my dreams. The ones he can’t, he gave me permission to pursue on my own. I don’t feel right about it though. We’re not going into this marriage blind, just...hopeful. Hopeful that what he wants out of it and what I want out of it works. That our open communication and our genuine trust and honesty with each other will prevent us from turning into his parents.

I can tell the instant the rum makes its way to my brain when my body isn’t repulsed by some stranger grinding his front to my ass while we dance to Usher. But I’m notthatfar gone.

“I’m gonna get some water. Want a drink?” I holler over the music to Kendall.

She shakes her head in time with her hips and continues to dance, so I work my way through the throngs of dancers and somehow come out on the other end of the dance floor unscathed. The bar is three people deep, but I see a slight opening and work my way through the crowd of people congregating around it.

When the bartender notices me, I ask for water. He tosses a bottle over the head of the guy in front of me, but I’m too packed in to raise my hand to catch it.

Someone tall reaches over my head and catches the bottle. Instantly, I’m swarmed by his heat, his scent. Soap and wood. Earthy and clean. I lift my chin to the towering stack of testosterone hovering over me. If I wasn’t cocooned on either side of my body by drunks, I’d surely have fallen on my ass.

“Is this yours?”

Tall and commanding, he possesses a presence that draws my eyes like a magnet, an undeniable charisma that must leave hearts fluttering in his wake. His shoulders are broad and powerful. A chiseled jawline, adorned with a hint of well-groomed stubble, frames lips that seem poised to unleash both dirty innuendos and intimate whispers.

“Thank you.” I lift my arm and reach for the water bottle.

The man keeps it above my reach and moves backward away from the crowd. If I want my water, I have to follow. Which I do. The sea of people seems to part for him as he backs up into a more open space. A rakish smile curves his lips, igniting a spark of mischief that dances like firelight in his stormy gray eyes.

“Not drinking tonight?” The rich timbre of his voice can soothe a wounded heart and promises unforgettable nights. I’m not sure which I’m craving right now.

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