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“Taylor.” I use the same tone she did on me.

“So, yeah. We all know you never answer your texts, but, girl! Look right now while we’re on the phone.” She’s sounding annoyed, and I can’t have that, not right now.

“I’m walking out the door, Taylor. Can’t this wait? It’s only the most important day of your life, you know.”

“Uh, it absolutely cannot wait. I know the weather tried to screw up not only yesterday but almost today. You didn’t get to meet the best man. Hell, I just met him last night. Look at your phone. You’ll thank me later.” I place Taylor on speaker phone. My eyes gawk at the plethora of messages I need to weed through, ignoring them for now until I scroll down and see the one I’m looking for.

“Do you see it yet? Also, you owe me. That was not an easy picture to sneak in. And Ridge totally found out what I was doing.” I’m looking at her text, better yet, the picture she sent me.

“Holy shit, where has he been hiding all our lives?” It’s a side profile of a guy longish hair, a five-o’clock shadow, and a strong jaw, which is saying something because no one looks that amazing at this angle.

“Well, he owns a construction company. Ridge told you about Tanner at dinner many times. Your paths just haven’t crossed. Well, until today. Now you know who will be walking you down the aisle tonight. You can thank me by hurrying your cute little ass and getting to my place. Love you!” As much as we’ve tried to get all four of us together, our schedules never allowed it. I hated it for Taylor and Ridge, but sometimes, life is freaking nuts.

“Yeah, yeah, love you, too. I’m on my way, and we’ll talk about this later, much later.” I hang up the phone and gather my stuff, moving my butt as fast as I can while thinking about the tall drink of water I’ve heard stories about. Ridge talks about Tanner non-stop. I’ve just never met him. I guess that’s about to change tonight, and maybe luck will be on my side.

CHAPTER TWO

tanner

This getup is not what I’d ever have in mind if it were me marrying someone. Fuck, the collar around my throat is getting tighter and tighter by the minute. Ridge is lucky that I’m even in this damn penguin suit. The only good part about this damn shit is that there isn’t a tail at the end.

“Quit fuckin’ around,” Ridge says, just as I’m pulling on my collar for the eighth damn time.

“Listen, there’s a reason why you work a desk job and I do what I do,” I give him hell like he usually dishes me.

“When you’re old and crotchety, barely able to move, you’ll be thinking, ‘Damn, I should have been more like Ridge.’” He swirls the bourbon in his glass before taking a sip. Classic banker moves right there.

“Maybe, maybe not. There’s a reason why we all run the Hart of Stone Construction company,” I tell him, already having set a plan in motion, with the rest of my siblings. Our poor parents, literally and figuratively, raised five children in a small house with three bedrooms and one bathroom. The minute I could, I worked my ass off during the summers, taking construction jobs even if it was to pick up trash and throw it in the dumpster. It helped my parents out, too, me having my own spending money, and what I learned only added to working around the house when Dad decided to add another room to the house when my sister was about three years old. We all worked tirelessly, but to see Mom’s smile on her face and not having a little girl in their bedroom helped a lot.

“Touché. You going to drop off Taylor’s gift for me?” Ridge asks for the third time.

“Finishing my beer and then heading that way,” I tell him. Taylor and he have been living together for over a year now. I’m not sure why they felt the need to spend the night away from one another or why they allowed their parents to even think they should. It’s all too fucking cliché. If it were me, the only thing I’d do that maybe half of the other population does is skip the big ceremony and reception. Shit, maybe I’m even cliché thinking this, but a wedding in Vegas sounds ten times better than this. It’s the honeymoon that deserves all the hype, anyway.

“Do it soon, yeah? This is something she can wear when she walks down the aisle.” He winks. I’m not sure if I should be happy for him or scared for myself.

“Fuck, I don’t even wanna know, do I?” I take my last sip of beer, grab the bag he has dangling on his fingers, and see the grin he’s trying to hide behind his hand while attempting to cough.


Tags: Tory Baker Hart of Stone Family Erotic