Page 51 of Accidentally, Scandalously Yours

I let go of many things in my life after I broke up with Johnathon, including all the emphasis I put on getting married. I date now to find a man who will love me how I should be loved and I don’t hesitate to let them know when they don’t. Never again will I end up with another man who cheats on me, lies to me, or disrespects me in any way.

I took the job I got at my father’s magazine and ran with that. I put all my efforts into building a career in publishing, working my way up from the entry-level job he gave me to become the Assistant Content Product Manager. My promotion had nothing to do with my father and everything to do with my dedication to my work. It turns out being able to sayI’m proud of youto yourself feels even better than hearing it from someone else.

I’ve fought Dad every step of the way to keep that job. He only offered it to me because he thought I was marrying Johnathon. He thought I’d completed my “mission” in life and whatever I did after that didn’t matter. And while he didn’t want to give it to me after my broken engagement, I forced him to and my mother supported me in that.

I had to let go of my involvement with gala planning, but that was a trade-off I was willing to make. However, I still socialize almost as much as before I began working because I’m focused on building a strong network that I hope will be invaluable when I find a way to pursue my dream of helping women.

As another text from Mom lands on my phone, I decide the nun life seems more appealing every day. I’d miss my job but I wouldn’t have to scroll dating apps, go on date after date, engage in boring fucking conversations with men I honestly couldn’t care less about, or pretend to enjoy mediocre sex. And God, I could stop worrying about my hair, my face, my body, my everything.

With all these thoughts scrambling my mind, I exit the bathroom in search of more wine. I don’t usually drink this much, but if an early mid-life crisis doesn’t demand liquor, I don’t know what does.

I take it as a sign from the universe that I’m meant to have another drink when the first person I see is a waiter holding a tray of the complimentary wine.

“Thank you,” I say as I accept a glass, which I have to my lips within a second.

I’d like to say I sip my drink, but guzzle may be the more appropriate word for what I do. I’m halfway toward emptying the glass when a new wave of heat does its best to melt me and I decide I need to get out of here. If even for just a few minutes, I need to escape in search of cooler air.

I turn to leave and run smack bang into a hard chest. What’s left of my wine spills all over my white blouse as strong hands grip my biceps to steady me. It all happens so fast, and since my mind is in a hot mess, it has trouble keeping up with what’s happening.

When a deep voice I know intimately says, “Kristen,” my head jerks up to see if I’m hallucinating. To see if I’ve just imagined Bradford Black into existence.

Arresting blue eyes meet mine.

Bradford’s eyes.

Eyes that are imprinted on my soul.

No, no,no.

He can’t be here. I know he’s part of my sister’s group, but Jenna never told me he was coming this weekend. I wouldneverhave come if I knew.

He frowns, the lines on his forehead etching their way into his tanned skin.

Bradford has a face I could stare at forever.

His bone structure is chiseled to perfection with high cheekbones I swoon over.

And then there’s his full lips.

I don’t want to think about them.

I can’t think about them and what they’re capable of because I will lose the remaining pieces of my sanity if I do.

But,oh God, my body remembers and if I thought I was hot before, I had no idea what hot really is.

His grip on me tightens. “Are you okay?”

“Do I look like I’m okay? Thanks to you, I’ve ruined my new Chanel blouse.”

The concern I saw in his eyes a moment ago disappears completely and in its place is the cold glare I’ve been treated to every time I’ve seen him over the last nine months. “Thanks to me?”

I pull out of his hold. “Yes. You ran into me and now”—I look down at my wine-soaked top—“I’m covered in wine.”

My brother-in-law, Beckett, gains my attention when he interrupts us.How did I not even see him there?He eyes Bradford. “Jameson just texted. He’s with Seth and Owen. They’re about ten minutes away. And Ashton, and Jack aren’t far behind.”

Bradford nods, not removing his eyes from mine. “I’ll be a minute.”

After Beckett leaves us, Bradford says, “Let the record show, I did not run into you. It was the other way around.”

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