THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,326

fathom a guess you know that already. You’re trying to work your wiles at this very moment,” Dax says, running his hand over my knee and up my leg.

“My wiles are quite innocent, Mr. Redding,” I respond, using my very best Austen English accent.

He laughs. “Innocence isn’t something you play well.”

That takes me aback a little, but he doesn’t mean it the way he should. Because he truly is the innocent one in this coupling. He doesn’t realize it. I kiss him on the corner of his mouth, half on his cheek. I feel him smiling under my lips. That’s all I feel—the physical response from him. There’s no zings, emotions, wanton lust attached to anything these days. Since Cody, I haven’t felt much of anything below the waist. I don’t crave Dax’s touch or dream about bodice ripping sex that melts the bed sheets. Time. I just need more time to forget Cody. I’m not even sure if that’s a possibility, but I have hope. He took more than my heart. The casualties were high and far reaching. Hope. He can’t have that.

Dax pulls me over his lap so I’m straddling him. His cock is hard and pushing against my core. “What do you think, Lainey? I said we should wait until our wedding night, but maybe we can fuck around a little. I miss you and this would probably be a lot less stressful if we both got our rocks off together.” Dax hasn’t been staying with me at my house. We’ve fucked a million times, but now he wants to wait until the wedding. Something about prolonging the longing. I’m not sure how it does anything except frustrate him, but I agreed mainly because I don’t care about sex right now. When I do dream about sex, Dax isn’t the star of my wet and wild fantasies.

His eyelids are heavy as he strokes the outside of my thighs. “Oh, my, Mr. Redding. You’d have me fuck around before the big walk?” I ask, staying in character. The word fuck doesn’t have a ladylike quality with any accent. That’s okay. I’m pretty sure it’s meant to be dirty in every country around the world.

He leans in and kisses my neck. “I’d fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk,” he responds. What should ignite desire makes me feel uneasy instead. He’s your fucking fiancé, Lainey. Pull your shit together and be a woman. I’m saved from having to concoct a response when my cell phone rings on the table behind me. It’s the morose tone I assign when my mother calls.

I hold my finger to Dax’s lips. “Hold that thought, baby,” I say, scooting off and into my own chair to answer the call. He’d never have me ignore my mother, being the gentleman he is. Right now, he looks like he may have changed his stance on it, though.

“Mom. How are you?” I say into the smartphone. She greets me, her accent sounding familiar and comforting to my Americanized ears. “Yes, I’m home. Why do you ask?” I haven’t spoken to her about Cody. She hasn’t asked. It’s the unspoken rule that I’m not to fuck up this wedding.

“Your cousins are flying in for your bachelorette party. They can stay at your house, right?” I’d forgotten completely about the party. Chloe has been planning it for months, but we haven’t spoken about it recently. Shit.

Chloe invited family from overseas? It’s news to me. Unwelcome news. “That’s right,” I say, pretending to know and pulling my planner open at the same time. I let my finger scroll through the dates and find the Saturday it’s planned for. It’s not even marked in my fucking calendar. It’s this weekend. God help me.

“Sure thing. Of course they can stay with me. Do they need a ride from the airport?”

“No, no. Of course they’ll get a driver. Do you need to hire cleaners before they arrive?” Oh, this is where she’s going with this conversation.

I scoff. “Mom, my house is always clean.” Because I have a cleaner come biweekly. She doesn’t need to know that, though.

“It’s a large house, Lainey. I want to make sure you’re not overwhelmed with anything before the big day. That’s enough for you to worry about.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, my tone sharp. Dax looks up. I see him scrutinizing my face in my peripheral vision. I ignore him the best I can, but I’m not sure where Mom is going,