Page 22 of Tempt Our Fate

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Page 22 of Tempt Our Fate

Her laugh echoes off the wall. It’s sweet and sultry, another jab at the wall I’m trying to build to keep her away. “I’d never ruin my reputation over you.” To prove a point, she lifts the coffee to her lips. My gaze is locked on the way they curve along the lid. She tips it back, swallowing dramatically.

There’s a lipstick stain on the lid as she pushes it into my chest. “See? Not poisoned.”

“What if it’s a slow death? I still don’t think I can trust you.” I want to press the cup to my lips. To place mine on the same spot as hers. And I don’t know how fucked up that makes me.

“Well, you’re going to have to try something new and trust me for once.”

“Trust you? That’s pushing it.”

“Better get comfortable with it. Because you’re going to have to trust meallday today.”

I take a long drink of the coffee. It’s made perfectly. It isn’t bitter at all, but the espresso flavor is rich with small hints of the syrup. She makes a damn good coffee. There’s something else in here that makes it different from my typical order, but I can’t quite place what it is. I’d ask her about it, but I’m too hung up on her idea that we’re spending the day together.

“Why would I have to trust you all day?”

“Because I’m here for myrealpayment, obviously. Today’s your lucky day, Camden. You get to spend the entire day with me and the beautiful town of Sutten.”

The sigh that escapes my body is long and drawn-out. I’d forgotten all about her silly little stipulation for her assistance during the opening. I’m a man of my word, and no matter how badly I want to tell Pippa to forget about it because I have a thousand things I have to do before returning to Manhattan tomorrow, I try to hold my tongue.

“I have a lot of things to get done today.”

She raises one of her tanned shoulders. “I had a lot of things to do when you asked me to slave away for your event—where I was insulted by one of your rich friends, in case you forgot—so excuse me if I don’t care if you’re busy or not. You’re coming with me for the entire day—and maybe even the evening. I’ve got so many fun things planned for us.”

“Your plans were to watch disgusting reality TV. Do you know how much of that shit is actually scripted?”

Her plump bottom lip peeks out in a pout. “Don’t ruin it for me. I quite enjoy reality TV. I’ll never be able to look at it the same.”

“Maybe we can rain check our little Sutten Mountain adventure?” I ask sarcastically. “And by rain check, I mean never doing it.”

Pippa clicks her tongue before taking a drink of her own coffee. “You aren’t getting out of this. You have five minutes before you need to meet me outside.”

“What about my work?” My argument is futile. I know enough about her to know that this isn’t an argument I’ll win.

“Work can wait!” she muses. The glee on her face can only be because she knows she’s about to torture me for an entire day.

Why did I agree to this again? Surely the guests didn’t need food at the openingthisbad.

Regretting ever saying yes to her, I groan. “You aren’t letting me out of this, are you?”

Her eyes twinkle. The light from the floor-to-ceiling windows catches the gold rim around her pupils. “No, I’m not.Tick tock, Camden! You now have four minutes until you have to meet me outside.”

With that, she pretty much skips out of the gallery. I can’t see where she disappeared to, but I’m confident she hasn’t traveled very far. She wouldn’t miss the opportunity to torture me for a day.

I walk out the door fifteen minutes later just to piss her off, not at all prepared for whatever she’s about to put me through in this town.

14

PIPPA

Camden looks incrediblyuncomfortable sitting in the passenger seat of my old truck. Despite looking completely out of place, he looks pretty freaking good with his dark hair being tousled by the wind. I couldn’t resist rolling the windows down, knowing it’d probably piss him off to ride around town with the wind caressing our cheeks.

There’s no better feeling than traveling down the winding roads of Sutten with the wind in your hair and the cold air tickling your skin. But I believe that because I grew up here. He grew up with dirty streets and air pollution. He probably never drove around with the windows down in New York. I wonder if he ever drove at all.

“Can you drive?” I blurt, risking a glance over at him. I have to raise my voice to speak over the wind.

He’s as far away as he can physically manage in the truck. The look he shoots my way is scathing. “What the hell goes through your brain at all times?”

I can’t fight my smile. “I don’t think you really want to know that. I’ve thought about killing you often.”




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