When Amy and her friends swarmed around me, peppering me with questions about my hot man and whether he had any brothers, I couldn’t help but smile. Right now, I wasn’t the overweight younger sister. I was the one with the hottest guy in the room who’d just kissed my lip gloss right off. And they were jealous.

It felt good to have something the others envied instead of pitied—because they all knew the history between me and Edward and had most likely showed up hoping to see how I’d mope and pander for his attention. Instead, they saw that I was desirable to a guy like Thatcher. That he was practically eye fucking me from the bar.

Except it wasn’t real. He’d done what I needed. Handled my mother like a pro. Dealt with Edward. Eddie.

Made it very clear we were together. Except we weren’t. It was all fake. His protectiveness. His chivalry. His interest. All of it. Because this was a weekend thing no matter what my pussy was telling me. Mary had told me to sleep with him anyway. If it was only for the weekend, I should get my money’s worth. And my pussy was thinking Thatcher Manning was very worth it.

Mary would jump him. Amy was ready to do so, even though she was the bride. Even Aunt Jean had said she’d do him if she were fifty years younger. Maybe I should. I grabbed another wine from a passing waiter, skipping the shots. If I couldn’t get enough nerve to buy him at the bachelor auction, I was going to need some liquid courage to jump him.

9

THATCHER

I’d met some dipshits in my day, but Eddie wore the crown of that kingdom. He’d screwed around on Astrid.

Astrid.

I was just getting to know her, but I’d bet my right nut she’d never, ever, cheat on a guy. She didn’t have it in her. She was too loyal, too… good.

She was also hot as fuck. Funny. Tempting. The women that surrounded her were pretty, but they had nothing on her. That green dress made her stand out. Her long hair made me want to wrap it around my fingers and tug her head back as I fucked her from behind. And that ass… it made me think of very dirty things I wanted to do to the woman.

I wanted her to have something else smudged across her cheek besides flour. Sprayed across those plump tits. Marking her pussy.

My tongue flicked out to lick Astrid’s taste off my lip. And what the fuck flavor was her lipstick? Cherry?

I’d had to tell her about Mexico. Now that she knew I was leaving, that for me this really was just a weekend thing to help her, I could breathe easier. Kiss her without consequences.

And that was one hell of a kiss.