Page 105 of Face Off

“You may speak quietly.”

Briggs pulled his yellow shirt over his head. “Why is Easton blue? He’s emotionally red.”

“Why are you yellow?” Rider asked. “You’re emotionally exhausting.”

“I bring sunshine.”

“You bring property damage.”

Their argument followed them toward the buffet. I remained near the shirt table long enough to consider whether the nearest fireplace could erase the morning’s dress code without triggering the estate’s alarm system.

Then Charm walked into the banquet hall.

Her pastel pink shirt hung loosely over tiny white shorts that showed nearly every inch of her legs. MAID OF HONOR 1 was printed over her right breast, and the shirt shifted around her hips as she crossed toward Bliss. Her hair had been twisted into a messy knot on top of her head, leaving loose blonde pieces around a face scrubbed clean of everything except sleep and the faint consequences of last night’s alcohol.

My body remembered her against the door before I could stop it.

Her mouth beneath mine. Her ass filling my hand. Her voice telling me she finally heard what I’d spent months trying to say.

Morning hadn’t changed the terms. Charm intended to fight her way back into a part of me I had no intention of reopening, and I intended to let her try while I took every unrestricted piece of us this weekend offered. She could flirt, touch, and make whatever argument she wanted with that body. I had survived fifteen months without her. Three days wouldn’t change the ending.

Until the Harlens arrived, the castle remained safe. Nobody here required her to explain why she stood beside me, and no one would make her ashamed when I put my hands on her. I wanted every minute of that freedom before her father’s presence showed me whether it was real.

I still watched her walk across the room. Charm hugged Bliss, accepted a clipboard from her, then turned and found me beside the shirt table. Her gaze moved over the green covering my chest before amusement warmed her face.

“You look cheerful.”

“I look like mint-flavored humiliation.”

“You’re wearing another shirt underneath it.”

“I have boundaries.”

“Against cotton?”

“Against group activities conducted in pastels.”

Charm’s smile widened as she approached. Her eyes moved briefly toward my mouth, acknowledging last night without dragging it into a room full of our friends. I appreciated the restraint almost as much as I resented how good she looked standing there.

“Green suits you,” she said.

“Lying before breakfast feels aggressive.”

“It brings out your eyes.”

“My eyes are brown.”

“Green brings out your suffering.”

“That sounds more accurate.”

She turned as if searching the room. The back of her shirt came into view, displaying I’M WITH THE BRIDE above the waistband of her shorts.

I read it twice.

Charm glanced over her shoulder. “Are you looking at my shirt?”

“The lettering is poorly placed.”