Page 41 of Tell Me All Your Lies

“It is,” I say from behind where she stands.

Maybe I am talking about the woman in front of me too.

“Think we could go down there at sunset?”

“It’s a must.”

Cara laughs softly, and I watch as her body vibrates.

“What?”

“I get it.”

“What’s that?”

“The charm of the great Grant Sinclair. If this is the type of date you normally provide to your flock of women, then I get why you’re so infamous.”

Another unintentional sting.

“Don’t believe every rumor you hear.”

I leave the best view I’ve had in ages and head to the nearby in-room bar. Closing the short distance, I pull out a tiny whiskey bottle from the mini fridge and pour it into a glass.

“Is there another one of those in there?” Cara calls out.

“There is.”

I pull out the second mini bottle of whiskey and pour Cara’s into the other glass available.

I hear the sound of her heels against the tile as she approaches.

“I don’t think you’re sleeping with women in every city,” she says.

“Just LA?” I quip.

“Maybe LA and New York,” she teases.

My shoulders relax, and I had no idea they were as tense as they were. We’re not even on the mission yet, and I have a feeling neither of us is acting like ourselves.

“I’m going to go in the other room and take a shower. Maybe change out of this wedding dress. Then I’ll take that drink,” she muses.

As she walks away, I feel a sense of loneliness.

“Collins?” I shout as I turn toward the doorway.

She stills and looks over her shoulder at me.

“You looked beautiful today. It’s a pity we didn’t take any pictures.”

Cara bites down on her plump lower lip, and it stirs something inside me.

“Come in here,” she says while gesturing for me to follow.

I do immediately.

She sits down on the bed and pulls out her cell phone from the purse she was carrying.

“Sit down next to me,” she demands.

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