All-American Princess - Maggie Dallen Page 0,11

billionaire’s yacht.

I knew this because that’s what I’d done last summer when Siobhan had been the one left out in the cold.

Of course, Siobhan had been on a family vacation in Tuscany last summer, which was why she’d had to miss out on our annual girls’ week. Hardly the same thing as having to miss out because one was stuck in… I looked around.

Nowhere. I was officially nowhere.

“Where are you taking me, exactly?”

He glanced over at me with arched brows. “Never seen trees before?”

Not this many. No. At some point, when I’d been stewing over my latest taunting text from my friends, he’d taken a side road off the main street and straight into the trees that lined the highway.

“This isn’t even a road,” I said.

“It’s a dirt road,” he said.

I shot him a look of disbelief as the truck bounced its way over what had to have been a tree trunk and a boulder. “Like I said, this isn’t a road.”

His lips hitched up on one side, and my breath got stuck somewhere between my lungs and my mouth, so I was temporarily speechless.

“Relax, Princess,” he said, turning his attention back to the questionable road. “I know where I’m going.”

I stiffened at his use of my nickname. “Don’t call me that.”

He shot me a look, and I caught the smirk that went with it.

Jerk.

After a tense silence, I let out a little squeak as the truck did another massive bounce over some rocks. When he shot me another look of amusement, I snapped. “Excuse me for being nervous about going into the middle of who knows where with some dumb hick I barely even know.”

Okay, perhaps that hadn’t been the right thing to say.

Diplomacy was never really my thing.

I saw his hands clench the steering wheel. “You didn’t have to come,” he muttered.

I turned to face him, clutching the edge of my seat. He faced me, and that only made me more nervous because good God, man, look at the freakin’ road!

He spoke slowly, seemingly unconcerned at the fact that we were driving through trees. “I said, you didn’t have to come.” He arched one brow. “In fact, you weren’t even invited.”

I opened my mouth and then clamped it shut. Of course I hadn’t been invited. Sweet, darling, mousy Tess had been invited. No doubt because she sparked pity wherever she went. Poor Tess. I held back a snort. Yeah, right.

Poor Tess held all the reins, and she knew it.

But not for long. Things would change once I was making the money, and once I had the power of fame to wield over her mousy head. Once I got a lead role on a hit TV show, she could go back to her world of business classes and nerdy frat guys, and my dad could finally start treating me with respect.

Win-win.

I gripped the edge of the truck’s bench seat as we careened over a ravine—at least that’s what it felt like.

All I had to do was find Brandon MacMillan and make him mine.

Five

Brandon

I always felt bad for any new kids who came to Pinedale, so when Jack pulled up and helped a hot blonde out of his truck, my first thought was to pity her. My second thought was holy freakin’ hell, where had Jack found this chick?

“Who’s this?” Amber asked, sidling up next to me.

I shrugged. “No idea.”

Amber tilted her head to the side. “She’s pretty.” She looked up at me. “Don’t you think?”

I met her gaze. Was this a trick question? There was no doubt about it. The girl was empirically hot. Like, super model hot.

And she was headed our way.

Most of the others from our group of friends were already lying out by the lake. The sun was out, the wind was down, and Amber had been right—this might be one of the last true tastes of summer we had left before school started and then winter set in.

Fall was so short in Montana, it didn’t even bother a mention.

For the blonde’s sake, I was glad she only had to meet me and Amber straight off. She should ease into this close-knit world she’d just been brought into, otherwise…

Well, I wouldn’t say she’d be thrown to the wolves. It wasn’t like Children of the Corn around here or anything. But like I’d said, this community was small and it was close-knit. Outsiders were outsiders, until they weren’t.

Luckily, I’d been born here, but even with a family name that went back generations, I’d had to go through