Girl in Luv

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Girl in Luv Page 3

by Rebecca Yarros


  Tapping my fingers on the side of my rapidly cooling coffee mug, I watched as Langley fidgeted nervously under my gaze. Even her name sounded expensive. We were from very different worlds. It was obvious at first glance. She came from money and influence. I was from a small border town way down in South Texas riddled with crime, violence, and a slew of bad choices. Never in a million years did we belong at the same table having a casual cup of coffee, but here we were. I needed to lock her down before she realized just how dangerous and careless her plan was to pick up a random stranger just to cause a little bit of chaos. I needed the money. That was my bottom line.

  I pushed the coffee to the side and leaned forward, crossing my arms on the table in front of me. I watched her very blue eyes as they drifted to the tattoos decorating both of my forearms, and bit back a grin at the way she audibly gulped.

  “Talk to me about the money.” If I could get my hands on all ten grand by the end of the week, it would make everything else I had to deal with so much easier. Taking care of Gael was always priority number one, but I did have huge commitments to the army I was responsible for following through with on as well. I didn’t take the uniform I wore lightly, or the duty that came with it. Like I said, there wasn’t a day that went by where I wasn’t hustling for one reason or another.

  The young woman across from me cleared her throat and leaned back in the booth, making the vinyl creak and putting as much distance between us as she could. Now she was leery and hesitant. She certainly could have used some of those self-preservation instincts earlier. She shivered slightly in the slinky dress she was wearing, but eventually met my gaze.

  “Meet me tomorrow at my family’s tailor. I’ll give you the first half if you show up, and the second half if you actually make it through the reception. I don’t think you have any idea how elaborate and ostentatious a society wedding can be.”

  Hell no, I didn’t. I didn’t even know what the phrase “society wedding” meant, but there hadn’t been many battles I’d lost in my life, so I doubted a fancy ass wedding was going to be one of them.

  I shifted so I could pull my phone out of my back pocket. I unlocked the screen and pushed it across the table in her direction. “Put your number in. I’ll text you so you have mine. Send me the info for the monkey suit shop and I’ll be there.”

  I was a man of my word. Once I committed to something, I was all-in, especially when money was involved.

  She tentatively picked up the phone and started tapping on the screen. I thought it was very cute the way her pale eyebrows dipped down in concentration. She was a stunning girl and there was a soft, delicate aura around her I found completely compelling. Nothing in my life had ever been easy, and softness of any kind wasn’t something I typically ran across in my day-to-day. I was going to have to remind myself that Langley Vaughn was nothing more than a means to an end, if I didn’t want to get even more tangled up with her than I already was, that is.

  “You really have an entire week free to be at my beck and call? Don’t you have a job or anything else you’re responsible for?” She pushed my phone back across the table and tilted her head slightly to the side. “You don’t look like the kind of guy who has a ton of idle time on his hands.”

  I grinned at her and watched as her eyes zeroed in on the dimple in my cheek.

  “I’m in the army. So, yeah, Uncle Sam gets first dibs on my time, but this week I should be free, for the most part. Give me some specific times for the laundry list of events you listed off earlier and I’ll do my best to make sure nothing comes up. For sure, though, I’ll clear the day of the actual wedding and reception. We can negotiate the price if for some reason I can’t make it to any of the other things you need me for.”

  She pointed to her own head full of long, gold-colored hair. “I wondered if you were a soldier.”

  The buzz cut was always a dead giveaway. Before I enlisted, I liked to wear my hair a little bit longer, but those days felt like a faded memory anymore.

  “Yep. I enlisted the day I turned eighteen. I got transferred to Fort Carson a couple of years ago. I’m originally from a really small town in southern Texas.” I rapped my fingers on the table and inclined my head toward her coffee mug. “You want a refill or you ready to go?”

  I was going to walk her back to her car and see her off. There was no telling if the guy with the grabby hands and metal in his face was coming back with more reinforcements or not.

  For a moment, just a split second, it looked like she hesitated. She couldn’t possibly want to spend any more time in my company than was absolutely necessary… could she?

  Naw. That was wishful thinking. This kind of girl wouldn’t have anything to do with a guy like me if she had a choice. I knew it, and it wasn’t smart to let myself think any other way.

  “We can go.” She looked out the window in the direction of the bar. “Would you mind walking back to my car with me?”

  I nodded, not telling her that was already the plan. It was good to know she wasn’t totally clueless when it came to being cautious. I didn’t mind being the lesser of two evils of the male species in this particular scenario.

  I flagged down the tired-looking waitress and paid for the coffee. Langley immediately protested, but I assured her that paying for coffee was well within my budget.

  I shoved my hands in the front pockets of my jeans and slowed my steps to match her much-shorter stride. I hit right around six foot, so the top of her glossy blonde head barely reached my shoulder now that the heels were missing from her shoes. She clutched her purse so tightly her knuckles had no choice but to turn white, and her nervous gaze darted over to every shadow we passed through. She took a tiny step closer to my side, the events of the night obviously still not completely worn off, and I decided to distract her until we reached her car.

  “What level of destruction are we talking about when it comes to ruining the stepsister’s big day? Do you want me to object? Set the church on fire? Hit on the mother of the groom? How bad do you want things to get?” I couldn’t afford to get myself arrested, but I could make a scene with very little effort if that was what she wanted. It actually sounded kind of fun. It’d been a long time since I was allowed to raise hell and get into trouble without fear of repercussion.

  Langley let out a tiny snort and immediately lifted a hand to cover her face. “Uh… you really don’t have to do anything other than show up. Believe me, that’s enough to send Camille and her mother into a tizzy.”

  I paused a step and cocked my head to the side. “Because my last name is Alvarez?”

  Was the fact I was Hispanic really enough to send her blue-blood family into a spiral? Hadn’t we as a society progressed more than that after all these years? Some days it didn’t feel like it, but I didn’t need the reminder shoved down my throat. If I didn’t need the money so badly, I would’ve walked away then and there.

  Langley jolted to a stop and rapidly waved her hands back and forth. “No!” Her shriek was enough to wake up the entire city. I took a step back in surprise and felt my eyes widen as she advanced on me, unsteady in her broken shoes. “No. It has nothing to do with your last name. It’s the tattoos and the fact that no one in our family’s social circle knows who you are. People who come from old money are automatically prejudiced against anyone new. My stepmother will hate that a stranger is seated at the head table next to her precious daughter. It’s as simple as that.” She cleared her throat. “My father actually served in the army when he was younger. His father made all the boys in the family either enlist, or do volunteer work, in order to access their trust funds. All the girls had to enroll in college. He didn’t believe anyone should have a free ride in life. He met my mother when he was stationed overseas. My dad will probably love you.”

  While I was trying to get a handle on what she was telling me, she gasped when she suddenly lost her balance and pitched forward. I caught her reflexively, seeing the truth in her eyes now that her face was so close to mine.r />
  Sighing, I set her back on her feet and ran my hands over my short hair. “Okay.”

  What else was there to say?

  I started walking again, keeping an eye on Langley to make sure she didn’t fall again.

  “You’re as different from my ex as anyone can get, if that’s any consolation.” She cleared her throat and fiddled with her purse. “That’s also a plus.”

  It was my turn to snort. “I would never get between sisters. Or stepsisters. You don’t mess with family.”

  She made a soft sound. “I’m not sure that Camille gave him much of a choice. Anything I have, she wants, and usually gets. It was like that before her mom married my dad. For some reason, we’ve always been rivals. Getting Richard to propose to her was her ultimate win.”

  I shook my head and muttered, “It’s only a win for her if you wanted to keep him, and it doesn’t sound like you did.”

  She looked at me from under her long lashes and gave me a lopsided grin. “I’m not sure that I’m old enough or have lived enough life to know exactly what I want. For a while, though, I thought it was him.” She shrugged.

  “How old are you?” She had to be at least twenty-one to get into the bar and to be a junior in college, but she looked younger than that.

  She gave me that uneven grin again and pushed her hair over her shoulder.

  “I turned twenty-one at the beginning of the year.”

  She mentioned she was a junior at CC, which was a well-known private college, so the tuition was no joke. I’d learned all about how outrageous the cost of higher education was as soon as Gael started being placed in every advanced class the tiny high school in my hometown offered. I knew right away I had to do research on paying for college based on his curriculum in high school alone. Everything that came out of her perfectly painted mouth served as a constant reminder that we had zero in common.

  “What are you in school for?” Did girls like her actually have to plan for the future, or did they simply get to waste money, knowing everything was always going to be taken care of in the long run?

  “Economics.”

  What exactly did someone do with a degree in economics? Play with money? Invest in more stocks and bonds to get richer? Sock more money away for retirement? I seriously couldn’t relate. Every dollar I made was already spent. Before I could ask for more details, she turned the tables and asked, “What about you? How long have you been in the army? You said you enlisted when you turned eighteen.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been in six years. I went to Fort Knox for basic. Got stationed at Bragg, and deployed. Did a couple years at Polk, and ended up here. I’m a Staff Sergeant now.” Maybe for another year or so, then the Sergeant First Class list would be out, and I’d done everything to make sure my name would be on it. I maxed out my PT score at every test, stepped up when others backed out, and led my squad from the front, which had earned me more than a few ribbons for my dress blues.

  I was good at taking orders, and even better at giving them, especially since I never asked my guys to do anything I wouldn’t. My childhood had been anything but easy, so I was used to living in sparse and brutal conditions. I’d taken to being a soldier like a duck takes to water, and even though enlisting hadn’t initially been what I wanted for myself, I didn’t regret any of the choices I’d made to get where I am today. The military gave me a purpose and a solid means to an end regarding taking care of my family.

  The conversation dwindled naturally as we reached the bar’s parking lot and Langley’s car. I waited while she dug her keys out of her purse, leaning on the side of the BMW. I watched as she pulled off the ruined high heels, wincing as her bare feet hit the asphalt. She turned to me and gave me a serious look.

  “You’re going to show tomorrow, right? This wasn’t all some elaborate ploy, or joke that you’re playing on me to make the out-of-place dumb blonde feel even more stupid?” She sounded so vulnerable, it did something to my insides.

  I lifted my chin in agreement. “I’ll be there, and I’ll stick around as long you make good on your end of the deal.”

  She copied my chin lift, her blues bright enough to glitter mischievously, even in the darkened parking lot.

  “Believe me, you are going to earn every cent of the ten grand. Camille is a nightmare and her mother is worse.”

  I pushed off the car and shrugged. “Bring it on.”

  If she had any idea of the poverty and oppressive sense of doom and disaster I grew up in, she wouldn’t think her high-class family was any kind of legitimate threat or obstacle.

  I tapped my knuckles on the roof of the car and told her to drive safe. I almost pulled my arm out of her sudden grasp when she stopped me and whispered a nearly silent, “Thank you for saving me from that other guy.” The unexpected tingle shooting all the way through my body at her touch caught me totally off guard.

  I wanted to tell her “Anytime,” but it would be a lie. The truth was, our paths normally wouldn’t cross and it was sheer coincidence they had tonight. I wasn’t someone she could rely on beyond this week or past the zeros in her bank account balance.

  I shook free and headed in the direction of where I’d parked my truck.

  I’d solved one pressing problem. However, there was no shaking the sinking feeling I just created another one that would be almost as impossible to deal with.

  Langley

  “How’s it going in there?” I asked Iker as I sat on the buttery-soft leather sofa, flipping through the loaded-down itinerary Camille had just emailed out.

  There was zero chance in hell I was going to sit through tea with the ladies on Wednesday. Especially not with Richard’s mother on the invite list. I’d show up for the barbecue, the rehearsal, and the actual wedding, but that was it. My sense of duty and agreed-upon self-flagellation ended then and there.

  “I’m hoping this is the last one you’re making me try on,” Iker answered from behind the curtained dressing room.

  “Let me see.” He’d looked incredible in the first two, but those hadn’t met with Oliver’s approval. The tailor was nothing short of a perfectionist, and I trusted his critical eye.

  Iker pushed aside the curtain and walked toward me with his arms spread. “Well?” he asked, spinning slowly.

  Unh. It was seriously unfair how good-looking he was. I managed to close my mouth, prayed I hadn’t drooled, and nodded. “It’s...nice,” I squeaked out. How the hell had I gotten so lucky to find him?

  He was hot enough to turn heads and soak panties. I’d seen the evidence myself as we’d walked through the Sunday afternoon crowds. He’d definitely turned mine, which was something I needed to keep under strict control. I never would have met Iker under normal circumstances, and would have bet all the money in my trust fund that I wasn’t anywhere near his type.

  “Get up there,” Oliver ordered, motioning to the pedestal as he came around the partition, hiding us from the rest of the store.

  “I think this is the one,” I said as Oliver walked a circle around Iker, tilting his balding head this way and that.

  “Langley Vaughn, I’ve been dressing your father for the last twenty years. I’ll tell you if this is the one or not.” He shot me a look that made me feel like I was five years old again, sitting in this exact seat.

  Iker met my gaze in the mirror and lifted his eyebrows. I nearly snorted, his expression was so funny.

  “How does it feel?” Oliver asked Iker.

  “Exactly the same as the last two.”

  “Well, this is a much higher-quality material, so I would hope you’d feel the difference,” Oliver muttered, checking the fit.

  It sure as hell looked like it fit great to me. The fabric stretched over his muscled frame, accentuating his broad shoulders and tapered waist. What was it about a tux that made an already gorgeous guy even hotter?

  “You might need a little more room in the inseam,” Oliver remarked, tugging gently at Iker’s thighs.

  “I might need you to
back your hand off my inseam,” Iker suggested drily.

  It was his turn to receive the trademark Oliver look.

  “I think this is it,” Oliver told me. “But, it is the most expensive of the three by about a thousand.”

  “We’ll take it.”

  Iker turned on the podium to face me. “The other two were just fine. You don’t have to get the most expensive one for one night.” There was no hiding the exasperation in his tone.

  I stood and walked around him on the podium, admiring not just the fit, but the man. I was at eye-level with all the most important parts of him. He must have been a fan of squats, because his ass was—

  “Langley, seriously. Get one of the other ones. That’s a shit ton of money to waste on a tux for a single night.” His eyes followed me, but he stood still, letting me look my fill.

  Oliver scoffed. “Let me know what you decide.” He disappeared into the front of the store.

  “When you’re deployed, and a firefight erupts, and you’ve got bullets flying everywhere, what kind of armor do you wear?” I asked, pausing to look up at him.

  “Kevlar.” His dark eyes narrowed.

  “And you wouldn’t dream of going out there without it, right?”

  “Fuck no. That will get you killed.”

  “What about a lesser-quality armor? Would you settle for something that looked okay, and could maybe stop shrapnel, but wouldn’t stop bullets?” I tilted my head.

  “Of course not, but this comparison isn’t remotely on the same playing field.”

  “It is,” I assured him. “You’ve never been where we’re going. I’ve never been through what you have. So, if I suddenly showed up in the middle of a firefight in Afghanistan, I’d hope you’d give me the best armor for the job I was about to face, and that’s what this is. Those other tuxes are nice, but this one…” I let my fingers rub the material at his wrist lightly, careful not to graze his skin. “This one is bulletproof.”

  He stepped off the podium, leaving one of the shiny cufflinks I’d started to nervously toy with between my fingers.

 

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