Page 37 of Filthy Little Regrets

“Doesn’t anyone knock anymore?” Mace asks, cutting through the living room to the foyer and saving me. He’s changed as well. The low-slung dark-wash jeans and dark green T-shirt mold to his body.

He must snort protein or something.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I figured since you didn’t give us the courtesy of inviting us to your wedding that we were ignoring manners.” Melody crosses her arms and glares at her brother.

At least I’m not the only one annoyed by him.

He arches an eyebrow. “We haven’t had the wedding yet.”

She huffs. “Shut up, you know what I mean. I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.” She glances at me and frowns. “Wait, is this because of Dad?”

I pinch my eyebrows together. What does Darius have to do with this?

Mace shakes his head. “No.”

That response was a little too quick.

Adalie tips her head. “I thought he wanted you to marry Bethany?”

Bethany, Bethany? Ew.

“No, I thought he wanted Mace to marry Ellen,” Melody says.

Ellen? Bethany? How many options did he have before choosing me? But the better question is: why did he choose me when he could have his pick of the litter? Discomfort gnaws at me.

Flicking his gaze to me, he ignores them and takes me in, his eyes shimmering with approval. “They don’t bite.”

Yeah, but you do, I want to say, and from the way his lips quirk, he knows exactly what I’m thinking. It’s annoying that he finds me so easy to read. I’ll have to work on being mysterious, but for now, I make my way down the rest of the stairs. Cool marble greets my bare feet. I regret not wearing socks when his sisters both look down before glancing at one another.

“What? Is it a crime to walk around barefoot?”I’m not defensive, you’re defensive.

Melody grins at me. “Oh, I like you.”

“Cute toenails,” Adalie says with a nod. “Are you being held against your will? Blink twice if you need help.”

She’s joking, but it’s a little too close to reality that I’m not sure how to respond.

Mace clears his throat. “Chef is getting ready to serve dinner.”

The two girls immediately straighten at that.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Melody growls. “Come on, Adalie.”

The two of them rush toward the dining room. Mace rubs the back of his neck, watching them go, then shooting a worried look in my direction. Oh, does he not want hissisters to know that this is, in fact, a hostage-type situation?

“Don’t worry,” I whisper, irritation pricking along my spine. “I won’t tell them about the mafia, or the murder, or the forced marriage.”

His eyes narrow, like I’m the one being unreasonable, the warning glare beating down every praise he poured over me earlier.

“Whatever,” I mutter, brushing past him to follow his sisters, but he catches my arm and spins me around, shock electrifying my heart. My palm lands against his chest, and I push, trying to break his hold. Only, he’s too strong.

Fingers tangling into my hair, he tips my head back until our lips are inches apart. “Don’t get an attitude now, baby.”

“Fuck you,” I snarl.

He smirks, dimples appearing, and his eyes drop to my lips. “I love it when you flirt with me.”

Oxygen grows dense in my lungs. He doesn’t get to throw me off my game and get away with it. Going on my toes, I rub my nose against his and whisper, “Don’t make me knee you in the nuts again.”

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