Seducing Texas (So not Prince Charming #2)(15)

With her head in a textbook, Willa waves at me.

“Hi, Willa,” I say. “Save me.”

She laughs. “I know you don’t want to be saved.”

Cyn points at the oversized bed crowded into the small room. “I can’t even open the dresser drawers.

I hop onto the new bed that takes up most of her room. I special ordered it, so I could fit on it. She jumps onto the bed with me, and I corral her into my arms.

Cyn unbuttons my shirt and my cock twitches in my jeans. “Did you go out with Niki tonight?”

I nod. “We’re not getting anywhere. She hasn’t told me anything of value.” Not that I listen. “I told her it probably wasn’t going to work.”

“I don’t like that you take her out for dinner and then come over here for a booty call.”

“I don’t either.” I kiss her bare shoulder. “Not when all I can think about is you.”





Chapter Willa


“I don’t want to meet with Fay,” Cyn says adamantly.

“Let’s just hear her out,” I say. I hate that Cyn and Fay can’t talk to each other, but against Cyn’s objections, I keep driving to the studio anyway. “And we need the money.”

“She’ll probably take all of it.”

“Fay said we’d split it evenly.”

I pull up to the studio, excitement firing my nerves. It’s the same one on Aedan’s card. When Fay asked us to meet her here, I jumped at the chance. Cyn was not as enthusiastic.

His truck is parked toward the back, and my stomach does a backflip. I park close to it, and Cyn laughs.

“He’s very cute,” Cyn says, “but he may be too old.”

“You didn’t mention that at the cemetery,” I say. All she did was encourage me to make a fool out of myself.

“Mom would want me to look out for you.”

She’s having a change of heart. It’s happened a lot since she’s been back. Sometimes she’s cool and then she turns all Mom on me. “Shane is five years older than you.” It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s doubtful that he’s interested. “He’s probably a drunk, like his dad.”

“He told you he was drinking over Dallas, so you can’t blame him. Dallas was an *, and it sounded like he neglected his duties as a father.”

Our dad was just misguided. He does love us.

Fay waits inside for us, and as usual is dressed for a high fashion shoot. Cyn looks fabulous in a designer dress and matching heels. I hope Fay isn’t attracted to Aedan. I don’t stand a chance against her, and I shouldn’t have worn jeans and my Chainsmokers’ band tee. I should’ve asked Cyn to dress me.

As soon as Cyn spots Fay, she grits her teeth and doesn’t look happy. I spend my time searching for Aedan.

“Hi, Cyn,” Fay says with not quite a sneer.

“How’s your wedding plans going?” I ask. It’s been a while since I spoke to her, mainly because Cyn doesn’t want to.

“I broke off my engagement to Trevor for obvious reasons, and now the ranch is up for sale again for anyone to buy. We need to get it back. Honestly, Cyn, you would think this is important to you.”

Cyn used to date Trevor, and Fay would never accept one of her rejects.

“I don’t think we could live under the same roof,” Cyn says. “Why are we meeting here?” She takes one of the seats in the studio office.

I hope she’ll listen to the studio’s offer. I could quit my sales job. Since we work on commission, the girls cut each other’s throats. I don’t like it.

Fay introduces the director and the producer of the studio. “We came up with a new reality TV show,” she says, excitedly.

Cyn folds her arms across her chest, not the least bit impressed. “Great.”

“We could make some good money doing this,” I say to her.

“I’m listening,” Cyn says. “Is it how to survive in Austin or keeping up with the Hunt and Diaz sisters? We can have fishies gnaw the calluses off our feet.” Sarcasm taints her words.

“Think of it as The Simple Life meets The Bachelor,” the director says excitedly. “Three beautiful women trying to make a living after losing their fortune. We’ll bring in a few suitors for each of you.”

“One of us is not broke,” Cyn says, glaring at Fay, “and I don’t need a boyfriend.”

“I’m barely surviving,” Fay defends. “We lost our income from the ranch and oil fields.”

Cyn laughs. “In your four-thousand square foot house in the gated Spanish Oaks community?”

“Fay, Cyn, please don’t,” I say. “We’re a family.”

Cyn blows out a breath. “I’m sorry, Fay.” Cyn must have switched to Mom mode.

“It’s good to have conflict and we’ll work that into the show,” the director says.

“What if we fight for the same guy?” Fay asks.

The producer grins. “All the better.”

Don’t let Fay go after Aedan.

“What’s the show called?” I ask, watching through the opened door for a glimpse of Aedan.

The producer is standing, eyeing us carefully, probably determining if we’re worth it. “Riches to Rags.”