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“Shut up and pucker for me.”
After smearing some color on my lips, she drops the makeup into her lap and sighs.
“I guess we should get down there before my parents pitch a fit.”
Why Governor Callahan insisted the party tonight be held at his house is a mystery.
It easily could have occurred at my house or Mason’s. But I will admit, the Governor’s mansion is the most luxurious of all of the choices, its old-world elegance rivaled only by Gabriel’s childhood home.
“Do we have to?”
Chuckling at my complaint, Ivy sets the makeup aside and pulls me to my feet as she stands.
“It’s one night. And then you get to be wild and crazy again for almost two years before the actual wedding. You’ll survive.”
“Fine,” I grumble and drag ass behind her because the last thing I want to do tonight is mingle and smile like I’m actually happy about this.
My mother’s voice whispers in my ear as we make our way out of Ivy’s old bedroom and down the long hall.
You’re promised to Mason Strom.
You are to act with grace and decorum.
Mason calls the shots, and you’re to happily go along with them.
And always,always, remember to smile.
Years of this shit has led me to believe that the corners of my lips are held up by strings, ones my mother controls and can pull into a lovely expression anytime she damn well pleases.
I follow Ivy down the grand staircase into the back portion of the mansion, my shoulders rounded and posture straight because once we can be seen, we’re to be in character.
Our families would love nothing more than for Ivy and me to be brainless socialites like our mothers, but beneath our masks are the truth of us.
Ivy, while educated and much tougher than me, is a force to be reckoned with. And even though I’m not as agile or devious as her, I’m perfectly happy being a hidden wild child.
We all have our secrets, and mine is that I enjoy tasting the areas of life that most respectable people don’t discuss in polite society.
I think that’s why I enjoyed Europe so much. They were much more open when it comes to sex, their shoulders free of the American pearl-clutching and delicate sensibilities.
We’re heading toward the back doors when I remember I’ll need gallons of alcohol to make it through the night, but before I can grab Ivy to pull her to the bar, Paul Rollings steps up to start a conversation with her.
He’s the last person I want to talk to, so I take that as my cue to step away and go in search of something much stronger than the champagne being passed around on silver serving trays.
Smiling as I see a group of my parents’ friends, I head in the direction of the bar, only to have my arm grabbed as I pass a service hall.
I’m yanked right before I can turn to see who grabbed me, my back impacting a wall as I’m caged in place by a presence that still has the ability to weaken my knees.
Amber eyes stare down at me, that feral gaze even more beautiful than I remembered.
“Good to see you again, killer.” Ezra’s fingers softly brush over the exposed skin of my shoulder. “Miss me?”
How do you tell somebody they hold a piece of your heart?
What are the best words to admit that there’s a part of your soul missing that can only be filled by them?
How do you lie and tell them you haven’t missed them at all because the truth is far too painful?
“I may have thought about you once or twice,” I say with a grin, praying that he doesn’t hear the way my voice shakes to hold the rest of my thoughts inside.