Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
And flirty, but I didn’t say that since I didn’t want to imply I’d be into it. Foster was handsome as fuck but was about as toppy as they came, and more to the point, he wasn’t Kenji Toma.
Foster cut his eyes to mine. “Have you ever had to sit through a wedding right after you’d gotten your heart stomped on?”
I blinked. “Uh, no? Why?” I glanced over at his stormy expression with a combination of panic and amusement.
Is he looking for relationship advice? From… me?
Foster didn’t reply.
“I’d ask who’s getting married, but I didn’t think you’d been dating anyone,” I went on. “So I assume this is a… metaphor of some kind?”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Not dating. I just… I met a guy.” He gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on the road. “Why are all the best men straight? And what kind of shitty-fucking fuckery is it for me to finally find someone who lit my fucking fire, only to find out he was fucking engaged? To a woman!”
I was having trouble following his disjointed complaints. “And you have to go to his wedding?”
“No! Jesus.” He turned to me with a furrowed brow. “I’m going to your wedding, you idiot.”
My hand rubbed down over my mouth and chin as I tried rearranging the conversation to make it make sense. It didn’t work.
“I’m getting married?” My heart kicked into a furious rhythm. “Are you sure?”
Foster snorted. “Sure as the sunrise,” he said as he turned down the driveway to Dev and Tully’s ranch house. “Fastest wedding planning in Majestic history. But don’t you worry. I bet Kenji magicked you a good one.”
I stared at him for a long moment, jaw gaping, then turned my stare out the windshield.
I’d known Kenji would have a plan—a plan any war general would envy, complete with troop movements of his assistants, billionaires deployed like operatives, and multiple redundancies. I’d even assumed part of the plan involved fabricating some kind of marital proof.
It hadn’t occurred to me that he’d plan us an actual fucking wedding without giving me advance notice.
Or, say, verifying that I’d be in attendance.
I hid my grin by turning toward the northern sky. “Yeah. He would have, wouldn’t he?”
As soon as we pulled up beside the house, the front door burst open. Kenji came rushing down the steps to my side of the vehicle.
I jumped out and reached for him immediately. “Baby—”
He held up his hand, stepping back, though his eyes danced. “Don’t you start with the babies right now, mister. We’re on a schedule. Anna Kincaid is going to be here with her television crew in thirty minutes, and if we’re not married by then, none of this will work.”
“Married?” I was grinning madly. Couldn’t stop myself. “Is this a proposal? Aren’t you supposed to get on a knee?”
“Judge Whiteplume is willing to backdate the paperwork, but he insists on it not being a complete lie, so…” Kenji glanced behind us to make sure Foster couldn’t overhear, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “…wife me now, Lord Landry, and I’ll get on my knees later.” He winked.
Since there was nothing I wanted more, I couldn’t pretend to disagree, even in jest. I grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him into me for a single hard kiss.
“Okay,” I said softly. Happiness filled me like cotton candy on steroids.
Kenji’s face softened for half a second before he rolled his eyes and pulled away. “Dammit, stop looking at me with that expression, or we’ll never get it done in time. Now, go change your clothes into something that works for both a wedding and a global network interview.”
He turned to hurry back into the house. My eyes went straight to his tight little ass.
I’d thought there was nothing hotter than watching Kenji Toma run the world, but I’d been wrong.
Watching him “magic” us a wedding was ten times hotter.
Foster caught up to me, still grumbling. “Stop being so in love. It’s disgusting.”
“Don’t think I won’t want the details about your Mr. Almost Right,” I warned as he passed me carrying my suitcase with one burly arm.
“It’s Dr. Almost Right,” he muttered. “And I promise you, we’ll never discuss him again.”
As I entered the familiar house, Zane, Silas, Dev, and Bash all rushed me back to my bedroom and shoved clothes at me. I recognized the outfit as the one I’d worn for Christmas dinner and then left here. Since this house was kind of a second home for me, it was easier to leave an extra set of everything here on the off chance I could zip to Wyoming between jobs.
I wondered what it would be like now that I was more in control of my own schedule.
I guessed the answer depended on what Kenji wanted.
“Are you drunk?” Bash murmured as he leaned in to adjust a strand of my hair that had gotten displaced when I yanked the sweater over my head. I could smell traces of coffee on his breath. “Because I don’t think I’ve seen anyone this happy to be force-married in my life.”