Page 2 of Savage Hearts

“Money?”

“Men. One in particular.”

I wait for an explanation. When it doesn’t come, I say, “Are we going to play twenty questions, or are you going to tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

Sloane takes a deep breath. She blows it out. Then, in a tone like she almost can’t believe it herself, she says, “I’m getting married.”

I blink an unnecessary amount of times. It doesn’t help clarify anything. “I’m sorry, I thought I just heard you say you’re getting married.”

“You did. I am.”

I huff out a disbelieving laugh. “You. The cockaholic.Married.”

“Yes.”

I say flatly, “Impossible.”

Unexpectedly, she laughs. “I know, right? But it’s true. Pinkie swear. I’m getting married to the most wonderful man in the world.”

Her sigh is soft, satisfied, and totally fucking ridiculous.

“Are you high right now?”

“Nope.”

“Am I being punked?”

“Nope.”

I cast around for some other explanation for this bizarre turn of events, but can’t come up with anything except, “Is someoneholding a gun to your head and forcing you to tell me this? Have you been kidnapped or something?”

She bursts into raucous laughter.

“Why is that so funny?”

She laughs and laughs until she’s sighing again. I imagine her on the other end of the line wiping tears of joy from her face. “I’ll tell you later. The point is, I’m getting married, and I want you to meet him. The wedding will be spontaneous, not a big event or anything. I don’t know the exact date yet, but it could happen any day, so we’d like you to come visit us as soon as you can.”

Visitus? Not only is she getting married, she’s obviously living with this guy, too. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.

“I know,” she says sheepishly. “It’s unexpected.”

“Thank you for having the decency to realize how weird this is.”

“It is weird. I know. For all the reasons. But…” She clears her throat again. “You’re my sister. I want you to meet the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Please hold. I’ll be right back after I’m finished with this stroke I’m having.”

“Don’t be mean.”

Oh, the things I could say to that. Ho hoho,the things I could say. But I choose the higher road and ask the next obvious question. “What about Nat?”

“What about her?”

“Why aren’t you calling her about this guy?”

“She’s already met him.”

There’s something odd in her tone that makes me suspicious. “And she knows you’re going to marry him?”