Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men #9)

He lifted an eyebrow, spearing me with an intense stare that made me squirm inside as if I could feel him poking through all my innermost thoughts. “Are you?”


Drawing in a breath, I tore my gaze from him and scanned the room, needing something else to focus on. When I spotted Brandt leading his bride toward the cake and punch, I blinked rapidly.

No. No, I wasn’t fine. Not at all. I was a freaking lonely mess inside, and I hated that too.

Messy, messy Juli. We couldn’t have that.

Across the table, Colton leaned toward me. “Tell me something, Julianna. What’re you doing here?”

His question made me squint. Veering my attention back to him, I shook my head, confused. “What do you mean? This is where my place card was.” I lifted my card to show him the name Julianna Radcliffe printed neatly on the folded piece of cardstock. “Where else would I sit?”

But he shook his head. “No. Not at this table, here. What are you doing at this wedding, here?”

My lips parted. Feeling suddenly unwelcome and small, I narrowed my eyes at the source of this crappy feeling. “I was invited,” I bit back.

Colton sighed and glanced momentarily toward the ceiling before meeting my gaze and murmuring, “Didn’t mean you had to come.”

“What?” Back straightening and chin lifting, I said, “Do you have some kind of problem with me, Little Gamble?”

He laughed. The bastard was half a second from making me cry and slink away from this stupid reception with my tail tucked between my legs, and he had the audacity to laugh in my face. Jerk. I should claw his motherfucking eyes out. And all this time, I’d thought he liked me when he flirted mercilessly. Every time he saw me, in fact, he made some comment about wanting to get into my pants.

Knowing he didn’t want me here made me feel betrayed by all his previous false acts of seduction. It made me feel as if no one wanted me, anywhere.

As if no one would ever want me.

But then he said, “Hell no, I don’t have a problem with you.”

Confused, I frowned.

Colton only smiled and tipped his head to the side. “What? Have I not made that clear enough every single second I’ve ever spent in your company? Because, you know, I could try harder.”

“Dear God, no!” Against my will, my body settled with relief to learn he didn’t dislike me after all, except the relief pissed me off, because I didn’t want to care what he thought of me. “Then what the fuck is your deal?” I demanded, cursing myself because I cared a hell of a lot more than I wanted to.

I didn’t want to like him; it drove me crazy that once I realized he was in a room he was the only thing I could focus on or think about. It’s like the bastard stole my attention against my will, and I hated that. But I couldn’t seem to stop it.

“I don’t have a deal,” he answered flippantly, making me rumble out my aggravation. “I’m just curious why you decided to torture yourself and attend this wedding only to watch the guy you’re crazy about marry someone else.”

I froze.

Praying he hadn’t just said what I knew he’d just said, I slid my gaze toward Brandt, only to guiltily slice it right back to Colton, who lifted his eyebrows and waited for my answer like a smug know-it-all.

So I took a long, slow drink from my champagne glass, nearly draining it, and then I set it back on the table before returning my attention to him.

Affecting an amused laugh, I asked, “What makes you think I’m crazy about Brandt?”

Colton laughed too, like threw back his head and bellowed the sound, making people at other tables glance our way. I ground my teeth, trying not to sink through the floor from mortification as he slowly settled down enough to say, “Not have feelings for Brandt? Good one.” Wiping a tear from his eye, he flicked it from his fingers. “Damn, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all night. But seriously, you don’t have to play dumb with me. I know you like him. I watched you stare at him for a good ten minutes straight before I came over here to rescue you.”

“I was not—” Oh, shit. I had been staring, hadn’t I? “He’s one of the only people here I know,” I bit out defensively. “And he’s the groom. Who was I supposed to watch?”

Colton grinned. “You could watch me.”

“Oh, Jesus. Really?” I rolled my eyes and reached for my purse from the middle of the table to leave. It was humiliating enough to get caught staring, but Colton’s pathetic flirting on top of that made my night complete. This evening was just too sucky to continue.

“Hey, wait.” Colton flashed forward, snatching my purse before I could get my hand on it.

I glowered. “Dammit, Colton. Give me my purse back.”

He didn’t. Grinning, he clutched it to his chest before holding up a finger. “Just give me a second here. I have an idea. What if I knew how to help you get over him?”