I let out a soft laugh. “What a thing to say.”
“It’s scientific.” He frowns, dead serious. “There’s a reason why no president after Grover Cleveland had a moustache. They were advised against it. Not just bad associations, but bad character traits.”
I’m grinning, delighted to be basking in his attention, in his passion once again. We see each other every two weeks, but lately, it hasn’t been enough.
“I’ll go first, and you wait a few minutes.” I bite down on my lower lip. “And…Ran?”
He stares at me.
“Let’s pretend like I don’t want it.”
He gives me a nod. I stand up, slipping into the narrow passageway and making my way to the lavatory. Before I even click the door shut, he is behind me, blocking my path to close it.
“You’re playing dirty, Mr. Lockwood.”
“Well, Miss Thorne, it’s the only way I know how to play.”
It is a tediously boring ceremony.
With all the staples of a boring couple: swan-shaped ice statues, white peonies, and one malnourished, anxious bride. The upside—and there is, indeed, only one positive to the event—is the fact that it will be over soon.
My girlfriend—the bridesmaid—is currently skipping between people, the social butterfly that she is, accepting compliments about her breathtaking beauty. I lounge back in my seat and watch her thrive. It’s a peculiar feeling, to care for someone else. But I don’t hate the helplessness that comes with feeling this way toward someone anymore.
Anthony plops down in a chair beside me with a long-suffering sigh, a cigar tucked in the side of his mouth. He claps my shoulder. “She’s happy.”
“The one who is getting hitched, or the one who is about to?” I drawl.
He chuckles. “Easy there, tiger. Hallie hasn’t said yes yet.”
Because I haven’t asked her. But I will, tomorrow. When we go back to Chicago and I show her the place I rented for her. A tattoo parlor in The Loop. Somewhere she can flourish and do her own thing. No better place to go down on one knee than in her own kingdom.
“She will,” I say with confidence.
“Probably.” He withdraws the cigar from his lips, sending a plume of smoke skyward. “She is crazy about you.”
As if sensing the conversation is about her, my girlfriend twists her head, peeks at us from behind her shoulder, and gives us that big Hallie beam that makes constellations light up in the sky.
“I will make you a very miserable man if you hurt her, son.”
“Sir.” A smile tugs at my lips. “If I ever hurt her, she’d hurt me back twice as hard. That’s why I’m marrying her.”
Hallie turns away, just as Anthony swivels toward me. He fingers the hem of my blazer, where my skin meets the fabric. “What’s that?”
Before I can answer, he pulls the blazer up, just enough to make the sliver of ink peeking from my tux reveal itself into a full-blown sleeve.
“She needed one hundred and fifty tattoos under her belt for her internship,” I say.
“And you decided all of them would be done on you?” Anthony chuckles.
“Not all.” I smirk. “But most.”
Over a short period of time, Hallie has used me as her personal canvas. She carved my past, my present, and my future onto my skin. Faces and quotes and people who meant something to me over the years.
“She marked you.” Anthony gives me an appeasing once-over, like he is finally sold on me. About to make an offer on a horse.
I sit back and watch the love of my life as she becomes an integral part of her family.
“She didn’t need any ink to do that.”
BIG BELLS AND BEAUTIFUL BALLROOMS: HALLION IS GETTING MARRIED!
By Anna Brooks, Yellow Vault contributor
Hallie Thorne has given her image a makeover…and that includes a sexy, high-profiled bodyguard of a boyfriend. Or should we call him now…her fiancé?!
You heard it here first, Vaulters. Our dear socialite, our favorite party girl, is tying the knot! Check out this exclusive photo of Hallie and her beau, Ransom Lockwood, sharing an ice cream and a pretty hot and heavy kiss in downtown Chicago. Why, we never thought we’d see the day. One thing is for sure—if this girl could find her happy ending, then my dear Vaulters, I can assure you—so can you!
The End.
National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673
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If you or someone you know has experienced sexual assault and/or rape, please consider using any of the abovementioned contacts.
This book is the fruit of much pain and reflection, and dealing with my own learning disability.
I would like to thank the numerous people who made it possible.
First and foremost, to my editors, Mara White, Tamara Mataya, Sarah Plocher and Paige Maroney Smith. Thank you for your guidance, patience, and attention to detail. I strive to become a better writer because of you.
To my sensitivity/kinkster reader, who wished not to be named, for your honesty, time, and sense of humor. You made the bad parts bearable.
And to Stacey Blake for the awesome formatting and the lovely Emily Wittig for the stunning cover. You are both absolute treasures to work with and I don’t know what I’d have done without you. Special thanks to Letitia Hasser for the gorgeous alternate cover. It is everything and beyond.
To Tijuana Turner, my marketing manager extraordinaire. Thanks for always getting me, and thank you for all you are.
Same goes to Vanessa Villegas, Marta Bor, Ratula Roy, Sarah Plocher, Yamina Kirky, Jan Cassi, and Pang Theo. A million thank yous for everything. You girls are my rock and I appreciate you so much.
Jenn Watson, Sarah Ferguson, and Keyanna Butler of Social Butterfly PR—thank you doesn’t begin to cover it. I am forever grateful. All my love, and then some.
And to my agent, Kimberly Brower, for all the support and dedication. I truly appreciate all you do for me.
Last but not least, thank you to the bloggers, readers, TikTokers, librarians, and bookshop employees who read, recommend, and talk about my books. I couldn’t have done it without you.
All my love,
LJ Shen
Contact L.J. Shen on Social Media
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Sinners of Saint
Defy （#0.5）
Vicious （#1）
Ruckus （#2）
Scandalous （#3）
Bane （#4）
All Saints High
Pretty Reckless （#1）
Broken Knight （#2）
Angry God （#3）
Boston Belles
The Hunter （#1）
The Villain （#2）
The Monster （#3）
The Rake （#4）
Cruel Castaways
Ruthless Rival （#1）
Fallen Foe （#2）
Standalones
Tyed
Sparrow
Blood to Dust
Bad Cruz
Playing with Fire
Midnight Blue
The End Zone
The Kiss Thief
Dirty Headlines
In the Unlikely Event
Beautiful Graves
Curious about Wolfe Keaton? A sneak peek to my arranged marriage, mafia romance—The Kiss Thief:
WHAT SUCKED THE MOST WAS that I, Francesca Rossi, had my entire future locked inside an unremarkable old wooden box.
Since the day I’d been made aware of it—at six years old—I knew that whatever waited for me inside was going to either kill or save me. So it was no wonder that yesterday at dawn, when the sun kissed the sky, I decided to rush fate and open it.