Page 14 of True Hearts

“Luna saved me,” I explain as I lead everyone to the great room overlooking the Olympic-sized pool. As I look over my shoulder, I meet the narrowed-eyed gaze of Dylan’s bride, Nat, who has never looked more lawyerly. Dylan has really met his match with her. “I was escaping the guard dogs that my board sicced on me. You may have seen some of them loitering outside.”

”The men in the black suits.” Dylan nods. “Grim. How long do you have to have watch dogs?”

”Until the internet decides that I shouldn’t be murdered anymore.”

“That might be never,” Nat jokes, although the wary expression on her face hasn’t let up. She’s worried that Luna has fled from one rich asshole into the arms of another. I’m rich and an asshole, so it might take some effort to convince the woman that my intentions toward Luna are pure. Or rather, honest. Nothing I intend to do with Luna could be termed pure. All my thoughts are decidedly wicked and carnal, very much the opposite of pure.

“I hope it’s soon,” counters Dylan. “I can’t be driving all the way out here to play poker. You’ll have to come back to the city.”

“When Luna feels comfortable. Right now we’re plotting Michael’s demise. Did you bring any food with you?“

“Do I look like Brooks? It’s the off-season, why not go over to Kaden’s?” Dylan jerks a thumb to the west as he plops onto the sofa and starts taking out his needles and yarn. “He’s got a personal chef.”

I shudder. Kaden’s place is next door, but with about five acres between us, it’s a fifteen-minute golf cart ride. “His personal chef only knows how to cook kale, homemade granola, and chicken breasts.“

“That’s depressing.”

“What are you making?” Luna settles next to Dylan, her eyes full of curiosity.

“Hot pants for my love.” He jerks his shoulder in Nat’s direction.

“There’s actually this thing called a sweater curse,” Nat says, coming to sit on the other side of Dylan. “If you knit a sweater for someone you love, by the end of it, they leave you, so Dylan won’t make me a sweater, but I saw someone knit up some cute shorts, and he said that wouldn’t invoke the curse. Here, let me show you.” Nat brings out her phone and after a few swipes finds the photo she was looking for and holds the screen up for Luna’s inspection.

She takes the phone and coos. “Oh my gosh, these are adorable. I need a set. Look, it has a matching top. You can make this?” The last part is directed toward Dylan, who is wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Yup. Got a little bustier top on another set of needles. Can’t wait for Nat to model it.” He gives Nat a look so lascivious it makes her blush, and an expression of envy falls over Luna’s face.

“I can buy a set for you,” I interject.

“It’s not the same.” This comes from Nat. She pets Dylan’s hair. “Dylan does all this work for me. It’s so sweet and sexy.”

When my Harvard-educated friend told me he was giving up his law practice to open a yarn store with his mom, I thought he was crazy, but I supported him. Now I see that I’m the idiot as Luna looks ready to melt into the sofa cushions with delight.

“There’s space over here.” I point to the empty sofa that is across from the one that Dylan planted his ass in. The decorator set it up so there are two long sofas that face each other with a massive fireplace on one end and a bar on the other. Nat giggles into her hand and gives Luna a little push. Why does Luna need a push? I frown.

“You guys a couple now, or is this just for show cause you wanna get back at Michael because he’s a prick?” Nat asks as Luna reluctantly extracts herself from Dylan’s side to cross over to the other sofa. As she takes a seat, I plant my hand behind her shoulders, my fingers curling into the back of the seat cushions.

“This is a real deal. You should know that these things happen in a blink of an eye. When you know, you know. Right?” I direct this toward Luna, who opens her mouth and then shuts it. She looks at her girlfriend and then at me before nodding slowly. It’s a sequence that does not give me confidence, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the others, either. Nat starts to say something, but Luna, sensing that her friend is about to try to whisk her away—try being the operative word here because I’m not letting Luna go—cuts her off.

“He actually swept me off my feet. Literally, we were running away from his guards, and I was lagging behind. He lifted me into his arms, which was very movie-style swoon-worthy. He also stood up for me in front of Michael, and yes, it’s all very fast and a little confusing, but I’m here because I want to be.” She hops to her feet. “Graham ordered a bunch of stuff for me. Let’s go upstairs and open all the boxes.” She grabs Nat’s hand and rushes the lawyer out of the room.

“Nat’s going to need some convincing,” Dylan says once the girls are gone.

“You think?” Luna, too, if I’m being honest. One exposure to the outside world via her friend and she’s already thinking she’s made a mistake.

”What are you going to do?”

“What else? Close the deal.” I’m not a billionaire for nothing. Convincing people that my way is the right way is what I excel at. Luna will be no exception.

ChapterTwelve

LUNA

“Are these all for you?” Nat asks, staring at the pile of boxes. They are a bit overwhelming.

“I asked for some nail polish.”

Nat snorts a laugh. “This is bigger than the pile you burned in front of Michael’s place.”

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