Page 107 of Merry Fake Bride

She even puts me on blast a little, but her words ring entirely true, and I don’t let her hold back.

Until we meet my mom.

“Devon. How nice of you to come,” she says while holding out her hand and sounding like she’s just spent ten minutes chewing something obnoxiously sour.

“It was lovely of Kairo to invite me.” Devon smiles and reaches for her hand but before they make contact, Mom snatches it away and tilts her head as if hearing something.

“Oh, I’m sorry, excuse me. And Kairo?” She steps away but pauses to give me a sharp look. “Stand up straight. I don’t want people thinking I raised an incapable son. Remember who you represent, hmm?” And then she’s gone, leaving an uncomfortable tightness in my gut.

“Wow,” Devon breathes. “Your mom is mean.”

Grimacing, I put her out of my mind.

That’s not a conversation I want to have yet, not when Devon is on my arm looking so beautiful that I can’t take my eyes off her.

“She’s high-strung,” I say as if that explains anything.

Devon nods, fanning herself slightly, then she puffs out her cheeks. “It gets warm fast, doesn’t it?”

“Are you too warm?”

Our eyes lock and she nods, wincing slightly as if admitting such a thing is a huge inconvenience to me.

“Come with me.”

Taking her hand, I lead Devon through the crowd toward the back of the dance hall.

The crowd thins to almost nothing, then I lead her out of the building and onto the veranda, where twinkling lights of all colors wrap around the wooden trellis above our heads.

Colorful streamers dangle down like wisps of moss, rocking gently in the very slight breeze that carries fat snowflakes through the air.

While the decking below our feet is warmed and free of snow, beyond the steps stretches a winter wonderland where even the fir trees and fountains are lit up with sparkling lights.

All the light, as soft as it is, reflects on Devon’s dress as she moves and she looks like she’s wrapped delicately in shimmering water.

She takes a few deep breaths and tightens her grip on my hand as she walks to the edge of the deck and stares out at the garden.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she murmurs. “I never knew such a garden existed in New York.”

“I prefer the gardens near your home,” I reply softly, “but New York does have a few gems tucked away.”

“Are all your parties like this?” She gazes up at me with a soft smile while plucking slightly at her dress. “I feel like I’m wrapped in plastic wrap and presented like some strange toy to all the people in there. I don’t know if it’s because of how I look, if it’s because everyone in there is as thin as celery and I’m here like some ornate apple, or if it’s because of the money, but no one seems happy.”

It’s difficult not to laugh and I run my thumb over her knuckles. “You feel like an ornate apple?”

“Yup.” She slides her hand over her abdomen. “Just in case you hadn’t noticed by now.”

Words rest heavily on the back of my tongue, words of utter sin and desire that I can’t utter to her for fear of scaring her away.

Her curvaceous body has never been anything but incredibly alluring to me, and yet she speaks as if it’s something I would consider as a negative.

“Devon?”

“Mmhmm?” She faces me with a light smile, and I enjoy being the center of her attention for a few minutes. “What’s wrong?”

“I just want to look at you.”

The apples of her cheeks immediately flush red. “Is there something on my face?”