Page 15 of All's Fair in Love and Blood - A Romantic Comedy Novel

He immediately stood and held out his hand to help me up. I hesitated—not because I didn’t want his help, but when I touched him, it did things to me. It was like opening up a gift I’d wished for but never imagined I would receive and honestly didn’t quite know what to do with now that I had it. The feelings he invoked made me crave things I wasn’t sure I was meant to have. I wasn’t talking only about Kane. It was the prospect of romance in general. Something I’d never really experienced outside of falling in love with fictional characters. Real-life romance and intimacy were foreign to me. It was embarrassing to admit, but I’d been kissed only once, and I was pretty sure it was on a dare.

Kane didn’t seem bothered by my hesitation. He only reached farther for me. No one had ever made such an effort. His gesture had me giving him my hand and, unbeknownst to him, part of my heart. He had no idea how much his kindness meant to me.

He easily lifted me up and I landed dangerously close to him. At least, it was dangerous for my wildly beating heart.

“Wow. You’re tall,” stupidly escaped my mouth. He really was. He had at least eight inches on my five-foot-six frame.

Kane didn’t seem to mind my awkwardness, judging by his smile. “I can’t help it,” he played along. He was still holding my hand. It was very friendly of him. If only he knew he was short-circuiting my system. My heart had never pumped so much blood.

“Maybe we should go inside.” What a dumb response. And hello, Scarlett, that’s where we were already going. I was burning and not from the sun.

Before he could respond, one of my ex-stepsisters, Ophelia, called my name.

“Scarlett,” she purred in her heavy southern accent.

Kane and I quickly broke apart and faced the beautiful but wicked ex-stepsister. She was runner-up Miss Georgia, a brunette bombshell, and stereotypical mean girl with a stage mom to rival them all. Her momma was stepmother number three and had assured my father she could turn me into a beauty queen. At the age of eight, mind you. I never made it onto any stage. I was barely back to talking to people at that time. Ophelia, who was four years older than me, made sure I never forgot that or how talented she was—she was a classically trained musician. Not only that, but she had graced the covers of many magazines. She’d even done some commercials.

My father was using the PR consulting firm she worked for. Unfortunately, she was the consultant.

Ophelia looked Kane up and down as if she were formulating her game plan on how to make him another one of her conquests. “Kane, it’s so nice to see you again. We hardly got to speak at the wedding.”

“What a pity,” he responded.

I could hear the sarcasm in his voice; it made my lips twitch.

Ophelia looked between us with her big blue eyes. “Did my eyes deceive me, or was I interrupting a private moment between you?”

“We were only talking,” I responded, not liking her incredulous tone. I mean, I got it. I still couldn’t figure out why Kane wanted to get to know me either.

“Actually, you did interrupt us. Excuse us; we have some important business to discuss.” Kane was curt and to the point.

She crossed her arms. “This is an unexpected development. Aren’t you two related now?”

“Ophelia, is it?” Kane obviously knew that would get to her, that he was so unimpressed as to not quite remember her name. “Whatever you think is or isn’t happening between us is none of your concern.”

“Does Augustus know?” She wasn’t backing down.

I swallowed hard, wondering what Auggie would make of all this. Not that he cared much what I did. And Kane and I were only friends or working on being friends.

“Precisely what should he know?” Kane was good at this. “That, unlike you, I treat his daughter with respect, or that your PR firm is overcharging Armstrong Labs?”

Her jaw dropped, and she began to splutter indignantly. “How dare you throw such accusations at me. I only came by to say hi to Scarlett. She knows how much we all love her.”

I blinked in disbelief. Not even I bought that lie.

Kane turned to me. “Do you believe that?” He was direct. Too direct.

My mouth went dry. I didn’t like confrontation.

“Do you?” Kane asked so tenderly, as if begging me not to believe the lie.

“No,” I eeked out.

He let out a heavy breath, relieved by my answer.

Ophelia, on the other hand, scowled at me. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later, then.”

We watched her stomp away in her stilettos and black form-fitted dress that showed off her perfect curves.

“She’s going to say something to my father,” I worried out loud.

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