Page 59 of Fragile Hearts

“Babe, your parents are looking for you. And you, dude. About damn time you showed up,” he says, clapping hands with Owen and pulling him in for a quick hug.

“So you’ve met my obnoxious sister,” Owen says, chuckling. “Now meet her better half. Sloane, this is Zach, my sister’s fiancé.”

“It’s great to meet you, Sloane,” he says, shaking my hand. “We’ve heard a lot about you. Glad we finally get to meet in person.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to meet you too,” I say, hoping this interaction quells some of my nerves.

“Now it’s your turn to chat with old Mr. Robinson about his yacht,” Cara quips, pointing at Owen. “Ask him about his fishing trip. Fascinating.” She rolls her eyes, her sarcasm seeping through.

“No chatting with the rich old folks,” Zach says, lacing his fingers through Cara’s. “Your parents need both of you.”

“Pictures,” Cara says, adding in that now-signature eye roll. “Come on, you two. If Zach and I have to do this, so do you. You’re not getting out of this, Owen. You’ve gotten away with the surf bum persona for too long. I guess I should be grateful you have a shirt on, huh?”

I laugh out loud, loving how much shit she’s giving him. She really knows him well, and I love it. Honestly, meeting Cara has eased a lot of this stress. She’s so cool and relaxed about it all. Not that I should be surprised. Their whole family is like this. You’d never know they’re as wealthy as they are, never bringing it up or throwing it around.

We make our way over to where there is clearly a backdrop set up for the media, and I see Owen’s mom and dad standing there chatting with some people.

Sally turns, a huge smile on her face when she sees us. “Oh, good,” she calls out. “Come, we have some pictures we need to do before we can start dinner.”

She hugs both Owen and me, thanking me for coming, and I, in turn, thank her for having me. Owen’s dad, Rick, does the same, making me feel more than welcome.

“Okay, we have a few shots we need to get in, so please cooperate, you two,” Sally says, directing her comment at Cara and Owen. “And Cara, when we’re done here, you need to head over to do your interview and get your shots for the article done.”

Owen leans in, whispering in my ear. “Cara is taking over Orchid Bay Lux. It will be her thing while my parents manage Maui and Oahu.”

“How about you?” I ask, knowing he’s in school and also helping out with things at the hotel.

“Not my gig,” he says. “But I’ll work the environmental end of things once I finish school. I have zero interest in kissing ass and dealing with people.”

He leans down, kissing my shoulder, and we’re then instructed to get ready for pictures. The photographer moves us around, and when I try to slip away, Owen reaches for my hand, tightening his grip.

“I want you in the pictures too,” he says, and Sally looks over, giving a nod of approval.

We pose for what feels like a hundred pictures, all different media organizations getting their chance, and they all ask the same questions. Each one gets our names in the order that we’re lined up for the pictures, asking where we live and how we’re connected to the family.

It becomes rote. Sloane Anderson, girlfriend of Owen Sinclair.

I love the sound of it each time it leaves my mouth.

We’re finally sitting down, surrounded by hundreds of people I don’t know, but Cara and Zach are sitting next to us, and with the empty seats across from us, I assume they’re for his mom and dad.

“How are you holding up?” Cara asks me, leaning over since Owen is between us.

“I’m okay. A little overwhelmed, but okay.”

“Don’t worry, the wine will be out soon enough. That takes the edge off.”

Owen’s arm slips around me, pulling me to him. Again, he presses the sweetest of kisses to my bare shoulder. It’s a simple gesture, but it does something to me, sending a spark of electricity through my body.

“This dress,” he says, his lips next to my ear, his breath warm and his words seductive. His hand skims over my thigh, and goosebumps dot my skin.

“I have a secret,” I murmur back, loving that the noise of the crowd drowns out our words to anyone but us. The tip of my tongue slips out, tracing the shell of his ear softly. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

“Sloane,” he warns, and I giggle as his hand tightens on my thigh. His fingers creep higher, but he stops, and I nearly moan out with disappointment. “Tell me the inside of your thighs are sticky, your pussy begging for my fingers.”

Oh my fucking god. Here we are, surrounded by all these people, and Owen is whispering dirty words in my ear. It’s erotic and filthy, and I’m so turned on that I find my hips moving slowly, my body wanting release.

“Why don’t you find out?” I question back, and it must be too much because I hear Owen literally growl out loud.

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