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“Hey,” he offers, disinterested.
A flare of anger lights in my chest at how she’s eyeing him like he’s prime rib. She always had the hots for him. I turn my body into his, sliding my hand under his jacket. As easy as the tides, his arm comes around my shoulder and he gazes down adoringly.
“So you two are hooking up again?”
Troy gives a withering chuckle.
“I got married!” she says next, barely coming up for a breath. She wiggles her fingers practically under my nose, presumably to make the diamond glitter.
“Congratulations.”
“Must be in the air, babe.” Troy brushes his lips across my temple, my body softening further into his. It’s just pretend. Or maybe it’s because he feels safe.
“You mean, you—”
“Got married, yes.” Sorry not sorry to piddle on your parade. My ring is infinitely cooler than hers, but I’m not flashing it because I have some decorum. Besides, the real prize is nuzzling at me. Real prize. Fake husband.
“I pinned her down this time,” Troy adds.
“Nice,” Hadley says, sounding anything but pleasant.
“Honey, where’d you . . .”
She turns to the voice, the man, her expression not exactly welcoming. Maybe because he’s around her height and kind of average looking.
“Troy Templeton.” Opportunities and dollar signs seem to flicker behind the man’s eyes as he puts out a hand. “It’s good to meet you. Perry Goldicke.”
I try not to snicker—I really do. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” I say, cutting him off from whatever he might see happening here. “We’re expected elsewhere, and we’re already running late.”
“Of course, no problem. Let me give you my card,” he says anyway. “If you ever need . . .”
I zone him out as I look Hadley’s way. “Mrs. Goldicke.” Props to me for not laughing. I might have the better ring and the better man, but apparently, Hadley wins thanks to Perry’s gold dick.
“Thanks for running interference,” Troy says once we’re out of earshot. He glances down at the business card before scrunching it in his fist. “A fucking litigation funder,” he mutters.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing but a hustler.”
“A hustler with a gold dick? Sounds to me like he’s in the wrong industry.”
“Your mind,” Troy says with a chuckle. We’re outside now, and the evening has turned cool. I must give a shiver as, before I can say It’s all good, Troy has slipped out from his coat and draped it around my shoulders. “I always thought your friends were the worst. My opinion remains unchanged.”
“Would it help if I said I saw that side to them too? Sadly it took for me to need them.”
“Why would that help?” He looks genuinely perplexed.
“Karma. Just desserts. Comeuppance. Take your pick.”
I don’t wait for his reply—the driver has already opened the car door—though I can’t help but wonder about the reason behind Troy’s sudden frown.
Chapter 30
Troy
Past
Laughter, music, and clinking glasses. The sounds rise as we climb the stone steps back to the house.
