Page 20 of Bitter Arrangement

“Stop calling me that.”

“—but I plan on finding out.”

Her throat works as she swallows. She looks around again and backs away. “I can’t tell you what you’re allowed to do, okay? All I know is I’m not supposed to have contact. If you want to show up during my runs like a fucking creep, there’s not much I can do to stop you. It’s a public park.”

“Every morning at nine,” I say gently, staring into her pale green eyes. I love the way the sunlight sparkles off them.

I’m going to go home and stroke my cock thinking about those pretty fucking eyes staring up at me as my dick disappears down her throat.

“It’s a date.” She turns away. “You creep.” Then she’s off, hurrying away, and I lean against a tree with a smile on my face.

Chapter8

Riley

Six hours until the wedding.

I really should’ve gonedress shopping.

“Aw, you look—” Cass starts saying, but her mouth clicks shut when I glare at her.

“Don’t you dare lie to me on my goddamn wedding day.”

She laughs awkwardly. “You sure about that?”

“Just be honest.”

“Okay, well, you look like you’re wearing a dress your dad picked out of a Macy’s catalogue.”

I sigh and smooth out the ugly pleated skirt. I’m standing in my bedroom in front of my mirror, and I’m hating every inch of what I’ve got on.

“Which is pretty much dead on as a description,” I admit.

The sleeves are long and the neckline is high, and it looks like something a woman would have worn in the 1920s, except somehow even more conservative.

This is what I get for refusing to engage with the planning process.

“But on the bright side, you really are gorgeous,” Cass says, coming over to give me a hug. “Seriously, Riles, your husband? He’s going to flip out.”

My husband. Alexan Sarkissian.

Creepy stalker psychopath.

Andobscenelygorgeous.

Those grainy photos didn’t do him justice. Last week, when I saw him standing near the trees, peeping at me from a distance, it was like opening Pandora’s box and liking all the nasty shit that came rushing out.

He’s a gorgeous monster. I mean, what kind of weirdo stalks his future arranged wife while she’s out for a run instead of just talking to her?

The same kind of bizarre nightmare that sends random dirty texts at odd hours of the day.

But at least he’s handsome. Like, really, really handsome. Thick brown hair, curvy lips, a square jaw with a good amount of stubble. Tall, muscular, and that stare. An intense look like the eye of an unblinking security camera.

He’s so hot I want to lick his teeth and suck his fingers.

How’s that for losing my mind?

I lean against Cass for a minute, looking at us both in the mirror. She’s my maid of honor, and at least her dress is decent. The cream color works with her tan skin, and her hair’s falling in absolutely perfect little ringlets.

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