Seriously, she could have been a serial killer for all he knew.

No one thought Luke would ever get married, but if I’d had to pair him with someone, it would have been Wendy. They were equally vain, vapid, and vacuous, thus making them perfect for each other.

No one had been shocked when he caught her riding a Hollywood producer like a pony.

I’d heard she’d laughed. I’d heard she’d mocked him. I’d heard she’d left him because she learned the flower shop was failing, thus depleting Luke’s trust and income by way of his share in the store.

I’d heard a lot of things, though who knew how many of them were true? Because everyone loved Luke, and as far as they were concerned, he could do no wrong. The way Mrs. Bennet spoke of Wendy, she was an evil thing with no other desire but to ruin Luke’s life and happiness. Luke’s brother Kash had softer things to say, but they still painted her as a user and abuser of sweet, innocent Luke.

Some days, it seemed I was the only one who thought he was a louse. I could fill a notebook with infractions to prove my case, if I were so inclined. There may or may not have been such a notebook somewhere in the recesses of my room, but I’d never admit, even with a gun to my temple.

I was shivering, I realized, my fingers numb in the cold water, my wet shirt freezing, my hair dripping in icy rivulets down my back.

“Oh, to have all my babies under one roof,” Mrs. Bennet crooned, her eyes misty.

“Except Marcus,” Luke amended. “He wouldn’t deign himself to live at home, Mr. Independently Wealthy.”

Mrs. Bennet tsked. “He lives two doors down. Deny it all he wants, but he likes being home just as much as any of you.” She turned to me, beaming. “Can you believe it, Tess? Can you believe he’s home for good?”

“No, I really can’t,” I said, snipping another stem with more force than was necessary.

Her smile fell as she assessed me. “Why on earth are you all wet?”

“Funny story, that.” I filled up my lungs to tell her that her son had humped me in the cooler, deciding to leave out the way his very large, very strong hands had felt clamped on my waist or the delectable feel of his hips nestled into my ass. My official statement was: groping and a possible concussion with some mild to moderate shaming to really lay it on thick.

But he cut me off. “It was my fault. I scared Tess, and she hit her head. I would have come up sooner, but I was helping clean up.”

Her face softened, opening up like she was looking at a box of kittens instead of her grownass lying liar of a son. “That’s my Lucas, always willing to help.”

I rolled my eyes when she wasn’t looking. Luke caught the motion and smirked.