Me?

I kept being distracted by her resolve, her laugh, and her ass.

Cool. Cool. I was perving on my soon-to-be wife, but it was getting harder by the day—no pun intended—not to act on the growing attraction to her.

In four days, we were going to be married, and I wanted to fuck my fiancée.

Except I couldn’t… because she wasn’t a real fiancée.

I was currently living in hell and had locked myself in there on my own volition.

I swung the golf club, and afterward, debated. If I slammed it into my face, would it knock sense back into me? Or better yet, help me stop gawking at her ass?

I climbed into the golf cart and checked our scores instead of watching Emmersyn swish and sway her hips back and forth in that skintight dress. Which I wanted to pull off with my teeth.

“I’m still down nine.”

“But only two on the back nine.” She leaned closer in the golf cart and her nail slid across our scores. Fresh air and a slight breeze slid across me, coupled with the flowery scent of her perfume. My dick perked up, liking the scent and I shoved my jaw forward, to stop myself from leaning in, inhaling more deeply, searing her scent into my brain so I’d never forget it.

“You’re impressively good,” I ground out, fully aware my voice did not sound normal.

Her brows pinched, and she glanced up.

We were inches from each other. She was close enough I could reach out, wrap my hand around the back of her neck and pull her in for a kiss that would leave us both breathless and desperate for privacy.

I was certain of it.

Worse, killing me further, her tongue appeared through her parted lips, swiped along her bottom one and a hue of bubble gum pink rose on her cheeks.

Like she wanted my lips on hers as badly as I wanted to taste them.

Fuck!

I tore my eyes off Emmersyn’s mouth and glared down the fairway until the fist gripping my chest loosened.

“You okay?” Emmersyn asked.

I flexed my fingers, loosened the white-knuckle grip I had on the steering wheel, and nodded. “Yup. Let’s go see how badly I can lose to you.”

Her soft chuckle echoed in my ears long after we were done playing.

After we returned to my house and we’d both showered.

Long after I’d taken care of myself in said shower.

And long after she went to bed that night.

Because for a moment, albeit a brief moment, I swore she wanted me just as much.

“Good practice today.” Bromann settled himself into his chair and ripped off his gloves. “We ready for tomorrow?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be.” Tomorrow’s game should have been the first thing on my mind. Only, right after, there was a wedding.

Where I was the groom.

It was the wedding that had mostly consumed my thoughts this week. Not only because it was all Emmersyn talked about. Apparently that moment we had on the golf course on Monday was enough for her because ever since, she’d barely looked at me.