Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)

Her eyes burned into mine while I still pictured her naked. Wondered what her tits looked like now. If they still fit in my hand.

Friends don’t picture their friends naked.

Story swallowed, her throat bobbing as though she saw into my mind, saw the dirty, dark thoughts.

“Great idea,” West said. “Want to go now?”

“Now?” Story swiveled to West. “Can we skip brunch?”

I ground my teeth. Every time she turned away from me to West, I wanted to rip her to me. West tilted her chin up with his knuckle, and I fisted the drink in my hand.

“We can do whatever we want, Angel. I’m not going to let my wife go without some damn clothes.”

Angel. Wife.

I took a deep breath through my nostrils.

Don’t punch the brother-in-law.

Again.

“But…” She glanced at me. I saw the worry in her eyes, the uncertainty. No doubt wondering how we were going to get to the doctor’s.

That was the least of my concerns, the easiest problem to solve.

West arched a brow.

“Sounds great.”

She shot me a look as West carted her out of Crowne Hall.

My grip tightened on my whiskey.

I want to be the one to take her. To provide for her. To give her everything—

Crash.

“Grayson!” Lottie gasped.

I looked at my palm, the pieces of glass now embedded in it from the flimsy crystal glass my mother insisted on using.

A few of my distant relatives looked over, no doubt hungry for some gossip to sustain them. Lottie grasped my arm, taking us out of the hall.

She held my bleeding hand in her palm.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ve had worse.”

“I’m worried about you,” she said.

About me?

“Lottie—”

“You don’t want me. I get it. But someone needs to take care of you, and she can’t.” Before I could respond, Lottie continued, “Stay here. I’ll go get you a bandage.”

Thirty-Two

STORY