Page 42 of Rebel Bride
I gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Mission accomplished.”
He whipped back to me. “What?”
“I saw her coming out of the restaurant, so I improvised.” And so did you. Did you ever.
“That was for Ava’s benefit?”
“Of course it was. I’m not in the habit of accosting men I hardly know in the street.” Only I didn’t think he knew Ava was there. In fact, I was certain he didn’t. Which meant the moment overcame him—and then it grabbed me by the lady balls as well.
His expression turned stormy. “Get in the car.”
“Are you annoyed?” I knew he was, but I wanted him to admit it. He was such a hard ass when it came to fessing up. He couldn’t even come clean about why he hated me.
“Me? Nah. I’m just peachy.”
“You don’t sound it.”
“You want to walk home or are you getting in the damn car?”
Chapter Thirteen
Dash Crying in his Mojito in St. Bart’s
Chicago Rebels forward Dash Carter is currently licking his wounds at his family’s vacation home in St. Bart’s. Sources tell us that what was supposed to be the happy couple’s honeymoon and a chance for Summer to become better acquainted with the Carter family, is now a somber affair. A close family member revealed that even after several years, Dash’s fiancée was “somewhat of a mystery,” and there were concerns that she might not fit the Carter culture. It looks like those concerns were well-founded! The “enigma of Summer” deepens as no one has reported seeing her since her pre-wedding bolt to freedom. Even the bridesmaids are keeping their lips zipped.
-@HotGoss
Hatch
* * *
Thankfully I was sleeping in the pool house. Distance was about the only thing preventing me from strangling my guest.
So, she thought she was helping me out. She’d witnessed the vibe between me and Ava, figured Ava might want to pick up where we left off, and saw an opportunity to give me an assist.
Only I didn’t know. And because I didn’t know, I thought Summer was kissing me for real, which made me so damn happy in that moment. To hell with Carter and the bro code and every reason kissing this woman was a bad idea. I had Summer in my arms, and all was suddenly right with my world.
Until it wasn’t.
Until I realized I was another one of her dupes.
The last thing I needed was to be letting a grifter like Summer Landry under my skin or into my bed.
Don’t think about bed. Or Summer in a bed. Or the things you want to do to Summer in a bed.
At just after seven in the morning, I had returned from a run that did little to excise this woman from my brain. I could see her in the yard through the window in the pool house. She wore a bikini, or the top part of one with shorts, and had Adeline’s bike turned upside down while she examined the tire. A toolbox lay open at her feet, with various implements strewn about.
She didn’t look like she knew what she was doing. And all that bending over …
Her head shot up, our gazes clashed, and I almost ducked. In my own house!
She waved.
I refused to return it.
Realizing how ridiculous this was, I headed outside, along the path to the patio, and stood before her, hands on hips.
“You’re doing it wrong.”
