Sweet Liar (Dirty Sweet, #1)
Laurelin Paige
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One
Dylan
“What the fuck was that?!” Weston, my business partner, exclaimed from the front passenger seat of my service car as we pulled away from the curb.
Restraining myself from directing the driver—a habit of mine, surely not useful now when I’d been out of New York City for so long—I looked behind me out the rear window at the two figures we’d left behind. Donovan Kincaid, another one of my partners at Reach, Inc. along with Weston King, was chasing down a girl who worked in the office—Sabrina Lind.
I had only just met Sabrina this evening. The woman was pleasant, smart, straightforward. Had a good head on her shoulders. Weston and I had dined with her and her younger sister and had just been finishing up when Donovan had come in, all blustering and noble and knightly.
“Donovan called himself her boyfriend,” Weston said incredulously, recalling the scene we’d just left. “Was I the only one who heard that? I can’t be that drunk.”
It had been an out-of-character declaration for the usually tight-lipped and brooding Donovan, but I’d seen this side of him before, many years in the past. The last time he had given a woman his heart.
If anyone asked me, he was wasting his time with this one. Sabrina had said several things over dinner that suggested she was no longer entertained by the circus that surrounded romantic notions.
“I heard it,” the young woman sitting next to me answered.
Now this one—Audrey, the younger sister whom I’d volunteered to see home—a man would have a much easier time trying to woo her. She’d made that clear over dinner as well.
Too bad she was that kind of girl. The kind of girl who wanted a man to love her before she lifted her skirt. Otherwise...
I turned my head slightly, imperceptibly, and slid my eyes down her form, pausing on the sweet curve of her breasts, watching her chest rise and fall with her breath. My gaze had traveled this journey several times this evening, but now I was lucky enough to have the added view of her legs, which had been hidden under the table before. They were long and toned, a little curve in just the right place.
“I heard it,” she said again, “and it was so romantic.”
The swoon in her voice made me chuckle. God, she was young. Younger than whatever ridiculous young age she actually was. Who the hell even believed in romance anymore?
“I don’t understand,” Weston muttered, combing his hand through his hair. “I’m Donovan’s best friend. I knew he was sleeping with her, but I didn’t know he was her boyfriend. I didn’t know he was into her. I was supposed to be into Sabrina. When did this happen? Where have I been?”
Oh. That was right. Weston King believed in love and relationships.
He turned his head to look at both of us in the backseat. “I’m seriously asking here.”
I glanced at Audrey. Her expression said that she had been in the know, but her lips were sealed.
That left me to console my partner. “You’ve probably been too distracted with that Dyson pussy you’ve been banging,” I was definitely still intoxicated. I didn’t normally use such crass language in front of a lady. Especially such a young lady.
“Hey,” Weston said, pointing a stern finger in my direction. “Elizabeth is not just some pussy I’ve been banging. I’m going to marry her.”
Never mind that their engagement was part of a business ruse. Despite the fact that it counted for nothing, Weston seemed to have grown fond of the girl—even as he bemoaned the loss of Sabrina.
It was exhausting.
“You’re exhausting,” I told him.
“I’m exhausting?” He seemed baffled by the idea that he would exhaust anyone.
“The entire lot of you. More exhausting than the flight across the pond. All of you are intelligent creatures normally. I wouldn’t have gotten into business with partners who gave in to the whims and fancies of human nature. It takes a clear head, your feet on the ground, your priorities straight, to be as successful as we have been with our company.
“But now the lot of you have gone and eaten some fruit from the tree of temptation. Drank the potion number nine. Watched one too many Netflix Christmas specials, because you’ve suddenly all descended into the ridiculous camp of men who fall in love with women.”
“Wait,” Weston halted me. “I never said I was in love with Elizabeth Dyson. I only said I was going to marry her.”