Page 422 of Hell Hath No Fury
“You mean a bet?”
“Precisely.”
His shoulders slump.
“I know I’m going to regret this.” He groans. “What kind of bet?”
To this, my mischievous smile only widens further.
“It’s quite simple. The first one to kiss their date before the stroke of midnight wins. If you kiss Sierra, the car is yours. But ifI can get the Ice Queen to kiss me first, then your cherry Porsche is all mine. What do you say?”
Rick holds his breath for one split second before bursting out in laughter.
“You’d have a better chance of hell freezing over before Colleen ever kisses you. You’re on, asshole,” he says, extending his hand for me to shake.
I take his in mine and give it a firm shake.
“And let the best man win, Turner.”
Oh, I intend to.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Colleen
“Who is that?” my sister whispers excitedly in my ear.
“Who is what?” I reply disinterested, since my sole focus right now is trying my damndest not to make any eye contact with my date sitting beside me.
Jesus.
Owen Turner.
Could my mother be any more insensitive?
Out of all the eligible men in the Carolinas, she had to pickhimof all people.
Sigh.
Not that she would have known that Owen would be the last man on earth I would go out with.
All she sees when she looks at him is his pedigree and prestige. Being the only son of the elite Turner family has its advantages, after all. And it sure doesn’t hurt that his last name is as old and ingrained in Asheville’s heritage as ours is. In her eyes, Owen is the savviest choice.
Who cares if he’s bedded most of Asheville? Who cares if he likes his own reflection in the mirror more than he does the women he’s dated? And who cares if when I was just thirteen years old, I had the hugest crush on him, just to have him break my heart?
Mind you, at the time he had no clue I harbored a crush on him. I might have been young, but I wasn’t foolish enough to confess my feelings for him.
Nevertheless, I did play the part of a fool in love perfectly back then.
Not that it could have been prevented.
Owen always had this way about him. Like he walked on clouds, the world below bending at the knee just to grant his every command. He had this charisma that just pulled you in, making you powerless to deny him a thing. And for a while, I followed him like a lovesick puppy. I would even wake up at the crack of dawn on the weekends, just to accompany my father on his many fishing trips with Owen’s father, knowing full well that Owen would also be there. I’d be on pins and needles all week, just waiting for the weekend to arrive just so I could spend time with him. He was always so carefree on those days. No worry in the world. We would joke and compete with each other on who caught the most fish, and before the day was through, we would end up swimming in the lake together. Those weekends were as close to perfect as I could have ever imagined. Falling for him had been as easy for me as a swing in the bank, one stroke at a time. Completely effortless. I would have hung the moon for Owen Turner if he so much as asked back then. That much I know.
But then Daddy died.
And with his death, Owen completely vanished from my life.
There were no more lazy summer days, lying under the sun.
