Page 78 of Tell Me All Your Lies

In my room, I quickly change into my tuxedo. These tuxedos are beginning to feel like a second skin with the rate I’m wearing them. In my day-to-day life, I don’t usually dress this formal, despite what Cara may think.

If Cordelia is hosting a big tournament at the casino, then this will be one of the events where all the local who’s who will be. Never mind all our neighbors in Rippling River, but throughout the Carolinas as well.

That reminds me, I need to ask Fisher if he’s gotten any word of it down in Charleston.

Picking up my phone off the dresser, I shoot him a quick and discreet text message. Ever since Fisher has been in Charleston, he’s been running with a local crowd, where surely this would have made its way to them.

Charlotte, North Carolina, and Charleston, South Carolina, are only about a four- or five-hour drive apart. For Americans, driving that distance is an easy road trip. Or they could take a flight that’s under an hour to get here. That’s also a possibility for the elite to do without a care in the world.

“Knock, knock,” Cara says as she taps her knuckles against my open bedroom door.

“Almost ready.”

Cara walks closer until I can feel the heat of her body only mere inches away.

“Need help?” Her voice comes out sultry, almost as if it were unintended.

I don’t, but I turn as I place the bow tie around my neck. She puts her hands on my chest and peers up at me.

“May I?”

“Be my guest,” I whisper.

Her delicate fingers tease the length of mine as they pass by one another. She takes the end of the bow tie in her hands as mine fall to my side.

As she finishes, she gives the ends a tight pull and drops her hands to her sides. Cara’s breath becomes uneven, and she doesn’t step away.

“Grant,” she murmurs.

I swallow thickly as I place a hand gently on one of her hips. Cara lets out a soft moan that makes me want to say fuck all the rules and take her right now as mine.

Fuck the tournament.

Fuck catching the Marlin.

Fuck all the preconceived notions that I had about why she and I can’t ever be together.

“Cara,” I rasp.

She grips onto my shoulders and finally gazes up at me.

“What are we doing?”

“Pretending.”

“What if I don’t want to pretend with you?” she asks.

My heart sinks momentarily until I realize what she’s really saying.

The conviction in her eyes is almost all the confirmation I need to know that we are on the same page.

“I don’t want to pretend with you while we’re here, Grant.Please,” she says.

Fuck.

While we’re here.

This is all temporary to her, as I knew it would be. I can’t take the risk that’s involved if this is temporary. Not only for my old heart but because of everything else that’s at stake.

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