The Reluctant Bride (Arranged Marriage #1)(31)

“Grant, seriously. Leave him alone,” I snap.

“Hey.” Crew steps toward us, his expression a little more open than Grant and Finn’s, which is odd. “Aren’t you that one dude who used to street race?”

I’m startled. “What?”

Perry’s cheeks turn ruddy and he nods. “Yeah. Used to. Don’t do it anymore.”

“Mad respect.” Crew holds his hand out to him and they perform one of those bro handshakes that looks completely made up. “An honor to meet you.”

“Back at you.” Perry flicks his chin at him. “What’s your name again?”

“Crew. I’m a senior at Lancaster Prep. You’re a legend with my friends. I’ve heard the stories about you racing through the streets of Bishop’s Landing. Didn’t you win a couple of races here too in midtown? Hey!” He whips around to glare at Finn, who just smacked him in the back of the head. “Knock that shit off.”

“Quit slobbering all over that asshole’s dick,” Finn practically spits at him, turning his fiery gaze on Perry.

“We’ll talk later. When you’re alone,” Perry tells Crew before he steers me away from them.

Way too many things are running through my mind as we make our way through the crowd, and all of them have to do with my fiancé. “I’m sorry about my brothers.”

“They’re—interesting,” he says, shaking his head. “Overprotective of you?”

“They just hate the world and everyone in it,” I admit.

“Nice. Sounds like my family.”

“Wait until you meet my father.” I glance down at my arm, thankful the lacy sleeves of my dress hit at my elbow and hide the bruises he left a few nights ago. They’re purple and yellow and absolutely hideous. I had another dress I wanted to wear, but it was sleeveless and my bruises would’ve been on complete display.

“If he’s anything like your brothers, I’m terrified. Though Crew seemed cool.” Perry plucks two glasses of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and hands one to me. “Drink up.”

I take a sip. Then another, my gaze on Perry as he drains the glass, setting it on a nearby table. “What was Crew talking about anyway?”

Perry rubs the back of his neck, distinctly uncomfortable. “What are you referring to?”

Oh, he knows. “You used to street race?”

He drops his arm to his side. “I did.”

“Wow.” I don’t quite know what to say. “Were you any good at it?”

“One of the best,” he admits.

“Did you love it?”

“There is nothing else like it in the world. The rush I get from my foot on the pedal, going as fast as I can, pushing the limits of the engine, of myself…” His voice drifts and his expression is downright dreamy, as if he’s lost in his memories, all of them good.

“But you don’t do it anymore.”

He shakes his head, his gaze finding mine. “I quit.”

“Why?”

“Got too risky. I almost wrecked. Nearly got arrested once. Now there’s a story.” He grins and I want to hear it. Every single detail.

I part my lips, ready to ask but he keeps talking.

“Eventually I had to get serious and grow up. Go to work every day and quit fucking around.”

Hmm. Someone gave Perry a speech.

I bet it was his mother.

Speaking of…

“I haven’t seen your mother yet.” I glance around the room, looking for her elegant blonde head.

“She’s here. Just making the rounds, like us.” His gaze meets mine. “You seem to be holding up well.”

“So do you.” I sip from my glass yet again.

“I should probably kiss you again. While we’re having an intimate conversation. Just the two of us.” He raises that single brow.

Ugh. It’s kind of sexy, that move.

“Fine. Just get it over with.” I quickly glance around the room one more time with a smile plastered on my face, but it feels forced, so I let it fade. When I return my attention to him, I see that he’s watching me with a stormy expression on his face.

“Get it over with?” He sounds vaguely insulted. “Was it that much of a hardship, being kissed by me earlier?”

“It wasn’t much of a kiss at all, if I’m being truthful.”

“Really.”

“Yes. Really.”

Without warning he hauls me into his arms, until I’m pressed so tight against him you couldn’t slip a piece of paper between us. His fingers curl beneath my chin, tilting my head back so my lips are perfectly aligned with his.

“Here’s a kiss for you, then,” he murmurs.

Just before his lips crash down on mine.

This kiss is nothing like the first one, which only consisted of a little spark. A flash of heat before it was gone.

No, this kiss is all fire and tongue and hunger. His hand slips down, until he’s touching my ass and his fingers tighten around my chin, keeping me in place as he devours my mouth with his. All I can do is cling helplessly to him, my hand finding his chest, his wildly beating heart beneath my palm.

He breaks the kiss, taking a step back, his chest rising and falling. “How was that?”