Fated Hearts (Southern Bride 8)

Why had she looked so familiar? Then I remembered she was the same woman who had spoken to Roger when I was in his truck. I felt my heart drop. Was she the one he had been thinking of the last time we were together? Judging from his body language, he didn’t seem too happy to see her. Who was she, then?

Suddenly, Bryce appeared in front of me, and I nearly screamed. He had climbed up the other ladder and was eye-level with me.

“Who are we spying on?” he asked. “I love a good peek.”

“No one.”

“Mmm, hmm, so it’s just a coincidink that Roger is standing there talking to Lucy.”

I nearly fell again when I turned my head to look at Bryce. “First off, what are we, in first grade? A grown man in his early thirties does not say coincidink.”

“This one does. And who are you to talk? You’re spying on your ex.”

I rolled my eyes and looked back at Roger. “So that’s Lucy, huh?”

“You know who she is?”

I shook my head. “No, I just heard she’s Roger’s…” I couldn’t finish my words.

“Fuck buddy.”

My entire body felt as if it had deflated. “Thanks, Bryce.”

“Let me rephrase that. She used to be his fuck buddy. I’m pretty sure they haven’t hooked up in a long time.”

Turning to him, I asked, “And how do you know?”

He gave me a half-shrug. “She’s friends with my sister, Kate. They’re both nurses. That’s how Lucy met Roger. His brother Truitt ended up in the ER.”

I thought about all the stories Roger had told me about his brother being accident-prone. “Which time?” I laughed.

“I think the time Truitt thought he broke his dick.”

Roger had told me that story but had failed to mention Lucy. Ugh, why did I even care? It was way before I was in the picture.

Hello, jealousy. Please go away now.

Suddenly, as if he could feel my eyes on him, Roger turned and looked up the hill toward the gazebo. It sat at the back of the hotel and was a popular spot for weddings—and you could easily see it from the trail.

I quickly pretended I was doing something. Bryce did the same, and we both pointed and mouthed words at each other.

“Wait, why are we not actually talking?” Bryce asked.

I wanted to die but was so glad he was willing to play along with me. I was going to kiss him when we got off these ladders. If we made it down without falling and breaking something.

“I don’t know why. Let’s just get down.”

“Thank you!” Bryce stated as he started to make his way down.

I slowly stepped off the top of the ladder, but I only made it down one step before a voice called up, “You know you can hire people to do that kind of stuff.”

I glanced down and saw a well-dressed, handsome gentleman about my age staring up at us.

Smiling, I replied, “What fun would that be?”

The stranger chuckled. “Ah, a woman who likes to live on the wild side.”

“Can you get down now, please?” Bryce asked as he held his hand up and motioned for me to keep going.

I chanced one more look at the trail. Lucy and Roger were still there, but he was looking at me while she spoke.

Jerk.

Asshole.

Stupid, good-looking jerk of a man.

When I reached the last few steps of the ladder, I felt a set of large hands grip my hips.

I stepped off the last rung and turned to get a better look at the stranger. “Thank you, but I had it.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if Roger had seen that. A part of me—the stupid, childish, jealous part—wanted him to see it.

“Well, if you had fallen and broken a leg, that would have stressed out Patty. And no one likes to have Patty stressed out.”

“Here, here,” Bryce said under his breath as he folded up each ladder.

“I’m sorry, you are?” I asked, holding out my hand.

He took it and gave me a brilliant smile, then lifted it to his mouth and kissed the back of it. Any normal woman would probably giggle or swoon at such a handsome man acting so chivalrously.

I was clearly not normal because it had zero impact on me.

Then he winked and smiled even wider. He had dimples.

I was such a sucker for dimples, but apparently my love for them now only pertained to one asshole of a man who just so happened to be yards away talking to his…fuck buddy.

“Is it just me, or are you angry about something?” the man asked.

“Me?” I asked in mock surprise. “Angry?”

He nodded. “You keep muttering under your breath, and I’m catching words like ‘jerk’ and ‘asshole.’ And one I probably shouldn’t repeat.”

My cheeks got hot, and I pressed my hands to them in an attempt to hide my embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. That was all supposed to be said in my head, not out loud.”