Two Truths & a Lime (The Love Game Book 3)

by Elizabeth Hayley

  Not knowing what else to say, I simply replied, “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

  He nodded and looked like he was going to say more, but we were interrupted by his mother.

  “Patrick, I still don’t understand. Brody’s not married?”

  “No, Mom. Remember? We talked about this on the phone,” Mr. Mason patiently explained.

  As he talked to her, I let my mind process everything he’d said to me as I watched Sophia. She was on the dance floor, doing some kind of line dance with a boy who looked to be about twelve. They were both laughing hysterically.

  And as I watched her, I felt all my feelings that had been brewing inside me since the wedding calm until only one seemed to remain: love. Goddamn did I love her. And I had absolutely no doubt that I always would.

  “Oh. I’m just so disappointed. I love watching young people in love,” Sophia’s grandmother said, her words anchoring me back to the moment.

  “I know, Mom. And I apologi—”

  I turned toward Mr. Mason quickly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but did you mean what you said that day on the deck?”

  Mr. Mason seemed puzzled, so I continued. “When you told me to trust my gut. That sometimes I’d have to take a risk and just hope things worked out?”

  “Oh, yes. Yes, I meant it.”

  I smiled widely. “Great. Excuse me for a minute.” I stood to leave but stopped and turned toward Sophia’s grandmother first. “If you give me five minutes, I may be able to improve your night.”

  And with that, I hurried off, but not before I heard her say, “He’s an odd boy.”

  She wasn’t wrong.

  Without letting myself stop and think, I bounded up onto the stage. When the lead singer saw me, I motioned toward the mic stand, and she nodded. She finished her song but then stepped back and gestured for me to go ahead.

  Taking a deep breath, I muttered, “Here goes nothing,” and moved in front of the microphone.

  “Good evening, everyone,” I said. My voice reverberated around the tent, causing everyone to still and turn their attention to me. At least I think they did. I was only aware of them peripherally. My focus was on Sophia.

  She looked at me curiously, a small, slightly worried smile on her face as she watched me. I smiled back, loving the way she drifted closer to the stage, almost as if her body instinctively moved toward me.

  “I was supposed to be Brody’s best man and came fully prepared to give a speech. And while I know a best man speech is no longer necessary, I do have something I want to say.”

  I’d always thought it was bullshit when people said everyone around them faded away except for a single person. But that’s exactly what happened. I logically knew Sophia’s entire family was watching me, likely thinking I was a crazy person, but I didn’t see them at all. I only had eyes for my girl.

  “Sophia, everything good I have in my life, I have because of you. It felt like I was just wandering through life, waiting for good things to come to me. And then one day, they did, in the form of an irate girl demanding to know where her brother was.”

  I saw her laugh, and it gave me the courage to keep going.

  “I have no idea where I’d be right now if it weren’t for you, but I can say with one hundred percent certainty it wouldn’t be where I am. You got me on track, made me want to be something…more than I was. You made me want to be worthy of you.”

  Her hand went to her chest, and I thought I saw her breath hitch. She walked slowly toward me, as if under a spell. Hopefully I could keep the magic going.

  “I know we haven’t even known each other a year yet, but with the number of adventures we’ve been on in that time, it feels like I’ve known you for a lifetime.” I licked my lips and tried to get my words in order. “I want to keep going on adventures with you. And I don’t want our time spent together to feel like a lifetime. I want it to be a lifetime. And maybe this is the worst timing in the world, but…” I raised my arms at my sides before letting them fall back down. “I can’t wait.”

  Stepping away from the mic, I jumped off the stage and moved in front of Sophia, who had made her way up to me already. I gave her a big smile before dropping to one knee and taking her hand in mine.

  “Sophia Mason, will you marry me?”

  Tears were streaming down her face as she covered her mouth with her free hand. For a second, she didn’t say anything, which made me panic a bit.

  But finally, she removed her hand from her mouth and said, “Of course.”

  Overwhelmed with joy, I slipped the ring her uncle Marc had handed back to me after the ceremony onto her finger and then surged up and swept her into my arms, spinning her around as everyone around us applauded.

  “I’m sorry for proposing with Vee’s ring. I’ll get you your own ring as soon as I can,” I promised as I held her.

  She laughed. “It’s the thought that counts.”

  When I finally set her down, she took my face in her hands and gazed intently at me.

  “You’re crazy, you know that?”

  “Yup. But you’re just as crazy.”

  She laughed again. “Guess we’re perfect for each other, then.”

  “Guess so.”

  And then, with our friends and her family looking on, I leaned in and kissed my fiancée.

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost we have to thank Meredith Wild for always believing in our writing and inviting us to be part of the Waterhouse Team. We’re thankful that you thought of us for a rom-com series and that you trust in our humor.

  To our swolemate, Scott, thanks for making the editing process smooth and for always trusting us to get a story where it needs to be. You’re always there to provide insight when we need it, and you’ve helped make our books the best they could be.

  To Robyn, thank you for answering our million and one questions and for stepping in and taking control of things when we were floundering. We’re sorry we’re such disasters sometimes.

  To the rest of the Waterhouse Press team, you simply kick ass. Thank you for everything you do to help us be as successful as we can. You’re an amazing group of people, and we’re lucky to have the honor of working with you.

  To our Padded Roomers, you all are such a tremendous group of people. It’s tough to find people as crazy as we are, and we’ve truly found our tribe with you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us, such as posting teasers, sharing links, reading ARCs, writing reviews, and making us laugh. We don’t deserve you, but we’re damn glad to have you.

  To our readers, there’s no way to accurately thank you for taking a chance on us and for your support. Thank you for letting us share our stories with you.

  To Stephanie Lee, thank you for coming up with the name Ransom. It’s perfect for him.

  To Google, thank you for providing the means for us to research things including, but not limited to, fraternities, sororities, marketing degrees, alcoholic drinks, dean responsibilities, business class topics, college codes of conduct, Gen Z lingo, and popular clothing trends.

  To our sons for inspiring the last names of our main characters. Our lack of originality strikes again.

  To Elizabeth’s daughter for being a spitfire and inspiring the way in which she wrote Sophia’s character.

  To our husbands, we know it’s not easy. Thanks for hanging in there. We honestly don’t deserve you.

  To each other, for pushing one another forward when we stall. The ride hasn’t been easy, but it’s sure as hell been a lot of fun. On to the next.

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  Book One of the Love Lessons Series

  The line at security was longer than I would have expected for a Monday evening. I placed the hand sanitizer and lotion from my purse into a clear plastic bag and put them into the gray container, along with my shoes.

 
I popped open my compact, suddenly feeling the need to assess my appearance. My usual pale face was still partially flushed an embarrassing shade of crimson. Oh well, at least I had a little color. I pressed some powder on the darkness below my clear hazel eyes and applied some tinted gloss to bring out a little color in my muted lips.

  I was definitely regretting not getting changed after dinner. Heels and a pencil skirt were not the best choice of attire for a late-night flight, but I had left in such a hurry after my parents’ hurtful remarks about how I was wasting my life. Changing had been an afterthought. Instead, I had grabbed my luggage out of their car and opted to call a cab, heading straight to the airport while my parents were still waiting for dessert.

  A part of me thought that at least one of them would come after me, try to smooth things over after I had announced that I had endured enough and was leaving. But heaven forbid they end their meal early on my account. My disappointment was still palpable as I placed the container on the conveyer belt and walked through the metal detector when the portly, balding security officer motioned me through.

  “Ma’am, please step into the area to the right for a full-body scan.”

  Here they go with that “ma’am” shit again. And what was all of this crap about? Was getting one break tonight asking too much?

  “The detector didn’t even beep. Why do I need to be scanned?”

  “It’s just protocol. Completely random.”

  Random, my ass, I thought. Those pervs in the back room probably get off on watching women go through body scans. I had no choice but to comply, so I stepped into the clear box and spread my legs slightly in order to place my feet in the painted outlines on the ground.

  As I turned impatiently toward the officer at my right to give him a look of disdain through the glass barricade, my eyes widened as they locked in on the “gentleman” from check-in. He was a few people back in line. His head was pointed toward the ground, but his eyes were tilted up toward me, staring at me intently, clearly amused by my perpetual inconvenience. What an asshole!

  A smoking-hot asshole, though. He removed his zip-up black Nike hoodie and lifted up his fitted white T-shirt at the waist slightly to allow me a peek at his hardened abs. He took off his belt with his other hand and placed it in the container, never once taking his clear blue eyes off me as he made his way through the security area easily.

  My eyes followed him to my left as he slid on his shoes, bending down for a few moments to fix the bottoms of his faded jeans before pulling the waist up slightly and putting on his belt. Damn, he had a nice ass! Now I was the voyeur, raking my eyes over him as he stood there completely oblivious. Or did he know that I was watching? Maybe he was doing this intentionally—putting on a show for me to enjoy while I was stuck in this cage, helpless. Tossing his black backpack over one shoulder, he ran his hand through his hair and strolled away, his gait unhurried and confident. This time, it was his turn to not look back.

  I knew two things for certain. I desperately needed a drink, and I needed to forget about everything that had happened during the past seventy-two hours. By the time I left security, I still had about forty-five minutes before my flight boarded, so I found an open bar and took a seat near the door, at the corner of the U-shaped counter.

  I organized my belongings—I’ll be damned if I was going to lose my boarding pass again—and hung my purse on the hook under the bar as I sank down onto the red cushioned stool. I looked up to get the bartender’s attention when my periphery registered movement. Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

  My eyes darted to the right while my head stayed stationary. I felt like a deer in headlights, silently hoping that if I just didn’t move, he wouldn’t see me. My brain scolded itself for not noticing him when I arrived. How the hell had I missed him? He was only three stools away from me, and with the shape of the bar, I was nearly facing him. Not to mention the fact that he was freaking massive, over six feet tall and pumped full of hard muscle. I could kick myself for not being more observant. There was no way I would have stayed here if I had noticed him. I don’t think.

  I quickly assessed whether or not I could make an inconspicuous getaway without looking like a psycho. With a few other patrons at the bar, most middle-aged men in varying degrees of inebriation, my exit would probably go unnoticed. But for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to stand. I told myself that I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me leave. Good thing I was well versed in delusional tendencies.

  Without looking my way or saying a word, he slid a drink toward me. He must have noticed me immediately and ordered the drink while I was preoccupied with my bags. The red liquid splashed a bit when I went to grab it, and I licked a little of the cool liquor off my finger.

  “Well, how can I pretend not to look at you when you’re licking your finger like that?” he asked playfully, his tongue running across the corner of his upper lip involuntarily. I think I saw a small scar just above his mouth. I had to resist craning my neck toward him to get a better look.

  I needed a witty retort to shut this cocky son of a bitch down. “Let’s not pretend,” I said huskily, leaning forward slightly to allow some of my ample cleavage to sink into his line of view. “You stop pretending that you’re not watching me”—I quickly sat up, dropping the seduction from my voice—“and I’ll try to pretend I don’t think you’re a total douchebag. Thanks for the drink.” I put the glass to my lips, silently praying that it wasn’t loaded with roofies. It tasted sweet, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

  “Wow, such harsh words coming from such a beautiful mouth.” The sound of his words was like velvet: rough with just the right amount of smoothness. He had clearly spent a lot of time perfecting his panty-dropping voice.

  I paused for a moment at his directness and furrowed my brow a bit. “What is that? A pick-up line? You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I am serious. Beautiful creamy skin. Silky brown hair I’d like to run my fingers through. An ass…well, we’ll leave that comment for later. What’s not to like?” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “And I did enjoy your little show back in security, by the way.”

  A chill ran down my spine, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat before silently cursing myself for letting him see that he had affected me. As I shifted, I felt the wetness that had been created by his words. Is he seriously turning me on?

  I studied him more closely, becoming distinctly aware of his appearance for the first time. I didn’t have men who looked like him coming on to me like this every day. He couldn’t have been older than his late twenties and had that brooding, bad-boy look to him that I’d always been silently attracted to. His posture was assured, relaxed even. The smoothness of his skin contrasted with the scruff around his delicate lips. He couldn’t even be bothered to shave every day.

  Suddenly I took note of his long dark lashes. When did eyelashes become sexy? And speaking of hair… His was just the right length to yank on while he moved his head back and forth between my legs. Jesus Christ, Lily. Get back to reality. “Show? Um, it wasn’t me who was putting on the show. You, lifting up your shirt, taking off your belt, and staring at me? Any of that ring a bell?”

  He slid a few seats closer to me, closing the space between us. I could feel my heartbeat quicken as the warm throb in my lower abdomen returned. I swallowed hard. Facing me and raising his left eyebrow, he lowered his voice and cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad to see I wasn’t the only one enjoying a show.”

  “I didn’t say I enjoyed it!” I snapped back. Yes, I needed to be clear I wasn’t interested…even if that wasn’t entirely true.

  “You didn’t say you didn’t enjoy it either. Tell me your name,” he said as he turned his attention back to his drink.

  Tell me your name? I didn’t take orders. Plus, I was taught as a young child never to tell my name to strangers, and I damn sure wasn’t going to break that rule for this guy. “Why would I want you to know my name?” As eager as I was to keep
myself anonymous, I couldn’t help but wonder what was really behind his deep-blue eyes, chiseled jaw, and hard exterior. I wanted to know more about this man who was such a mystery, while revealing nothing about myself. It was difficult for me to ignore the irony.

  “Suit yourself, doll. But I thought you might be interested to know mine since I’m fairly certain you’ll be screaming it later.” He rubbed his hand across his face, and I found myself daydreaming again about how the coarse hairs on his face would feel brushing against the insides of my thighs.

  “Wow, you’ve got a big head, don’t you?” I asked, rolling my eyes at his forwardness.

  This must have amused him, because he cocked his head to the side a bit like a confused puppy, obviously entertained by my comment. Lowering his voice, he ran two cool fingers lightly down the side of my left arm, sending chills running all the way up to my neck. “Oh, honey, you have no idea.”

  “Aaand…that’s my cue to go,” I said, raising my glass in the air and taking a final gulp. As I began to lower it, a mischievous thought crept into my mind, along with the memory of his words during our first encounter of the night. “Looks like I’m the one who got the drink. But I have absolutely no interest in fucking you. Have a nice flight,” I said with a wink. I then turned, grabbed my bag, and stalked out of the bar, satisfied. Two could play at that game. I made it to the door before my brain registered a noise from behind me. Did that prick just call me a liar?

  I started off toward my gate. I couldn’t believe that guy. Who did he think he was, saying things like that to someone he just met? But, more pressingly, who was I to like it? He was right. I was a liar. Thank God I got out of there before I did something I might regret.

  Although, if his “head” was as big as he claimed, there might not be much reason to regret anything. Stop thinking about him, Lily. He’s a sleazy asshole who’s probably just looking for a quick fuck before he hops on a long flight home to his wife. I breathed in deeply to calm my nerves before heading to the terminal. You’re better than this.