Page 22 of Royally Ruined

I was almost regretting that Darien hadn’t killed me earlier.

Costello stepped forward, ignoring Francesca and scooping up his mother’s hands. “Mom, this is Heather. She’s my girlfriend.”

My biggest worry had been that when he finally lied to his family about me, I’d be trying not to laugh because of how silly it was. When Costello spoke my name, his tongue lingering on each letter, his seriousness unquestionable ... my heart became a thousand butterflies.

He had the best poker face in existence. I was in on the ruse andIalmost believed him.

His mother and Fran both gawked at me. “Girlfriend?” Fran scoffed. Then she was shoved aside by their mother, the imposing woman marching down the aisle to square off with me. Costello had none of the softness built into her cheeks and contours, but they did share that intense stare.

Gripping my fingers, she leaned closer. “I’m Carmina,” she said, giving my hands a little squeeze. I had the impression she could have crushed me if she’d desired to. “Welcome to the family, Heather.”

I knew I was turning red; the heat spread from my scalp to my toes. “Uuuhhhhh,” I said, never as eloquent as I needed to be in the moment. My smile was hesitant; a look from Costello made me force it wider. “Thanks for having me?”

Thorne popped up the steps, gripping the sides of the jet door. “What’s going on in here?” he asked, surveying the scene like he was as shocked as everyone else. This family was full of stone-cold liars.

His mother’s eyes narrowed, and she said, “Hawthorne! Did you know Costello was dating someone? Why didn’t you tellme, your sweet mother?”

Thorne shrugged. “It was a secret.”

“Why would he keep it a secret?” asked Fran, who was looking more pissed off the longer this farce went on. Could she sense it was all make-believe?

“Because he was terrified you’d all drive her away,” Thorne replied, flopping into one of the luxurious seats. He winked at me. “I mean, you are super scary, sis.”

Her hands flapped like she was trying to cool herself off. “I amnot, gawd!Mama! Tell her I’m not scary!”

Okay. This was spiraling out of control fast.

“It’s all right,” I said, backing away from Carmina. I gave her shoulder a gentle pat, my eyes rocketing toward Costello. “Myboyfriendhere has only said good things about all of you. I’m flattered to finally meet you guys, and crazy flattered to be attending Kain’s wedding.”

Thorne flashed me a quick thumbs-up. His sister hugged Mic, the little dog nuzzling her cheek. She cast a look full of shade at me.

“Okay,” Carmina said, adjusting her boa. “I’ll tell the pilot we’re ready. We need to hurry if we want to make it in time to have our nails done with Sammy before the wedding tonight.” Clicking her tongue, she swished down the aisle, muttering to herself about whether pink and gold would work with her custom Ralph Lauren dress.

With the aisle emptying, Costello approached me. He was tall enough that his scalp scraped the roof. “Let’s go sit in the back.”

I let him guide me down the pale bronze interior toward a heavily curtained section. The seats were all the same thick, plush red and black that matched the jet’s paint job. Peering at Costello, I helplessly imagined the rich ink running beneath his clothes.

Because I couldn’t stand the awkward silenceorthe weird tension lurking between us, my brain made words in a desperate attempt at conversation. “Your family really likes that color combo, huh?” I asked, settling into a chair and buckling myself in.

Costello sat across from me. It was a roomy section, but even so, his knees were an inch from grinding on mine. “I don’t know if we all like it, but my father is certainly attached.” There was a tiny table beneath the wide windows. Tapping a panel on it, he revealed a collection of water bottles and green wine bottles inside. “Let me get you a drink, Heather.”

I set my elbow on the table, my chin on my fist. “Hm.”

His forehead crinkled. “Hm? Why hm?”

“I was just thinking how easy it was for you to start calling me something else. It reminds me of this girl I work with. She changes out her name tag constantly—Cindy one night, Serena the next. I always had to call her something else, and it was weird for me, but not for any of the guys who rolled in for a drink. They didn’t care what her name was.” I pursed my lips and chuckled. “Guess it’s good I don’t need to wear a name tag to remind you what to call me, huh?”

The blue of his eyes flashed. “I’m doing it for your own safety.”

“Easy there. I was only playing around.”Attempt at making conversation? Failed. Good job, Scotch.

He cocked his head; it was a small movement, but a pointed one. “You do enjoy playing with me, don’t you?” he whispered.

It was my turn to get flustered. “Hardly.”

“Then why push me like you do?”

“Please.You’rethe one teasingme. What else do you call rolling on the bed, nearly kissing me, then not?” I’d said it—and I knew I’d said it—but I didn’t think about how much I’d given away until it was too late. Clapping a palm over my lips, I stared at him.

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