Taboo: A Dark Romance Boxset (Stud Ranch 1)

The procession starts as soon as Mom makes an appearance a few minutes later. I walk down the aisle, surprised at how packed the church is on both sides. It’s easy to think that Mom’s alienated everyone who she’s ever met. But when I get to the front pew and see Grandpa smiling not at Mom, but me, I remember who all these people are really here for.

Grandpa might not have the fortune he once had, but he’s still a wealthy man. The fact that he cut off his daughter is a well-kept secret, though apparently Mom’s husband-to-be is aware.

How do I know that little tid-bit?

Well, I miiiiiight have taken him aside last night after he sat right beside Mom as she drank flute after flute of champagne all through dinner, his gaze nothing but benevolent as he looked fondly at her.

He excused himself to the bathroom and I followed a few minutes later.

“You know she doesn’t have money?” I asked right after he came out of the bathroom. The hallway was narrow and dark, off the kitchens and not well traveled.

“Excuse me?” he asked, eyebrows arching in surprise. He stood his ground, though, and didn’t brush me off.

I immediately felt like a small child despite my three-inch heels. “Um. My Mom. She doesn’t— I mean…” I gulped, looking down at the floor before gathering my courage to gaze back up at the towering blond Viking god-man. He is the handsomest man I’ve ever. “There’s no money. If that’s why you’re marrying her. Grandpa isn’t even that rich anymore. And he cut us off anyway. So if that’s why you’re doing it.” My whole body was trembling at this point. Oh God, I just needed to get this out and then I could go hide in the coat closet for the rest of the night. “…you shouldn’t. Because you know. There’s none. No m-money.” And with that last stumble of words I turned on my pointy little heels and fled.

And now, here I was at the front of the church. I couldn’t put it off any longer. I finally lift my eyes and there he is.

The Viking god in all his spectacular glory. His barrel chest looks barely constrained in his tuxedo.

I expect his gaze to be focused past me and on my mother. His blushing bride who’s ostensibly standing at the back of the church, about to come walking down the aisle toward him.

But no. His eyes are zeroed in directly on me.

It’s just for a few seconds. A moment where our gazes lock. And hold.

I’m walking down the center aisle of a church, holding flowers.

A man stands there awaiting me. A glint in his eye just for me. Or so it feels.

And then the groomsman holding my arm directs me away to the side and the connection is lost.

It takes everything in me but I don’t look over my shoulder. It would be too desperate.

And wrong.

God, what am I doing? This is my mother’s wedding! And I’m hoping that the groom is making eyes at me? A man twice my age. A man that my mother is marrying?

I squeeze my eyes shut and give my head a little shake right after I take my position at the end of the bridesmaid line. Oh my gosh, is it finally happening? I’ve always been terrified that I was doomed to be screwed up after my upbringing with an unstable, drunk and occasional (when she could afford it) cokehead for a mom. Not to mention an absentee dad who took off when I was five because of my aforementioned batshit Mom.

I was the one trying to balance the budget at ten years old. You know, back when we had money before Mom blew straight through it on blowout bashes for her and her friends in the Caribbean.

Grandpa cut us off when I was fourteen, but he made sure I was in the room for the discussion because he wasn’t an idiot. And he didn’t cut us off completely. He continued paying via a grocery app to deliver groceries—stuff that Mom couldn’t return in order to get money for blow. I could come to him if I needed clothes. He paid for Mom to go to rehab a few times. It might stick for a month or two.

But he always stopped short of letting me come live with him. I think he was always conscious of how it would look.

Did that hurt? Sure.

But whatever.

I’m not screwed up by it all.

I’m surviving just fine. I’m going to a great college.

Okay, so I have to live at home and I’m in debt up to my eyeballs in school loans, but I’m not going to get mired down by all my childhood crap.

I’m rising above.

I sneak another look at my mom’s new husband.

God, why does he have to be that good looking?