Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“This is a terrible negotiation.” I swallow. “You get nothing out of it.”
“I get you. I get to see you do what you were meant to do,” she says, and fuck, I might start crying again. I don’t. I take a breath, and then another, and manage to remain composed.
“Lyla.”
“It’s the best contract I’ve ever signed,” she says.
“But soccer. . .”
“It says ‘so long as she is able,’ for a reason.” She smiles with a shrug. “I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed, but just in case.”
“Fuck, Lyla.”
“You’re not going to fight me on this,” she says, serious again.
“I don’t think I’d win, if I tried.” I laugh at the truth in my words.
She kisses me again, a deep kiss I instantly feel in my pants.
“Why are you wearing this?” I squeeze her hips and groan against her mouth.
“Because it looks good on me.”
“Too good.”
She gives me one more kiss and stands up. My eyes trace her body from the hem of the skirt to her beautiful eyes.
“Lift up. . .”
“No,” she says quickly before I finish the sentence. She backs away even faster, until she reaches the door.
“No?” I toss the papers aside and stand up. “Come here.”
“Lachlan Duke, I am not fucking joking,” she says, in her no-bullshit voice that turns me on even more.
I groan. “I’ll be fast.”
“They’re waiting for us,” she says, but the fire in her eyes tells me she wants this as much as I do. “We’ll come back after the meeting.”
I take a breath. “Fine.”
“I still think my fiancée should have consulted me,” I say when we walk back into my father’s office. “But I understand why she didn’t. For the record, I still think all of you are assholes,” I say, and look at my mother. “Except you, Mom.”
She laughs. “Well, I guess we should leave so you can pack a bag,” she says to Lyla.
“A bag for what?” I ask. “Aren’t we all having dinner tonight?”
“Of course,” my mother says.
“We’re getting married tomorrow, which means we won’t be sleeping together tonight,” Lyla says, a glint in her eyes.
I blink. “What? Why?”
“It’s tradition,” Mom says.
“Fuck tradition,” I say. “I’m not spending a night apart from you.”
“It’s one night,” Prescott says.
I glare at him. “I don’t care.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’ll go to the second floor then.”
“My bed.” I lower my face and suck her lip into my mouth. “Our bed. That’s not up for negotiation.”
She laughs. “Maybe Pres wants to take you to a strip club or something. This was all so quick that you didn’t have a bachelor party.”
“I don’t need a bachelor party.” I scoff. My entire life was a fucking bachelor party.
“Maybe she wants to go to a male strip club,” Liam says.
My eyes snap to hers. “Do you?”
“Are you going to be one of the strippers?” she asks.
“If you go, I’ll have to be.”
She laughs along with everyone else, but I’m too lost in the sound of hers to pay attention to anyone else.
CHAPTER 62
LACHLAN
Henry Duke has enough pull to get an officiant, rent out the rooftop of a popular restaurant, and set it up for a wedding ceremony — complete with fake grass, chairs, and a nice arch of flowers in under twenty-four hours. I’m standing in front of the nice arch right now. Because of my father, they were able to plan all of this in less than a week. I have to say, I’m very impressed. The only hiccup was that the restaurant only let us rent the place out until five o’clock, since they have to open it to the public for dinner. My dad was willing to dish out whatever they asked to cover the cost of dinner, but Lyla freaked when he said that, so he didn’t. He’s already done enough. Besides, five o’clock is perfect. I haven’t even seen Lyla yet, and I’m already dying to whisk her away.
I can’t, though. I need to let her enjoy this. She picked the colors and the music, and pointed at things on the menu my mom showed her. She ran things by Marissa — not me. As long as she’s happy, I don’t really care. She could’ve picked a dirty fucking subway station to get married in and I would’ve agreed. The beginning dun-dun-dun-dun of “Back That Azz Up” starts blasting through the speakers when the door opens, and I’m kind of regretting not sharing my input on the music.
Some of our guests look around in confusion. Behind me, the officiant starts hiding his laugh with a cough. Banks, Mason, Nolan, Logan, and Mae burst out laughing from the seats, and when Marissa and Liam walk out, they’re smiling wide and shaking their heads. My mother, father, Lyla’s dad, Marissa’s parents, and my agent have no idea what’s happening. Thankfully, the song stops before the rap actually comes on, but I’m sure the photographer got a lot of pictures of the confusion and amusement on our faces. Leave it to Lyla. . .