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Book two in the USA Today bestselling Wedding Pact series.
Divorce attorney Blair Hansen is convinced that marriage should be based on practicality, not passion. But as her own wedding approaches, she finds herself remembering her law school boyfriend, the only man she's ever loved, and regretting what might have been. Then a twist of fate lands Garrett back in her life, and the man who loomed large in her past is suddenly casting a shadow over her wedding, making her question everything. To complicate matters further, the job she loves is in peril, and she can feel the ‘perfect’ life she’s fashioned for herself start to crumble under her feet. Could everything she's believed about life and love be wrong?
Garrett Lowry is a divorce attorney who's ready to settle down. The problem is that he can’t find a woman who suits him nearly as well as the one he loved and lost. He broke her heart by playing the field after their break up—something he’s always regretted. But after months of pining for Blair, Garrett stumbles across her in a freak coincidence—and then destiny keeps throwing them together, the coincidences becoming ever more unlikely. He’s convinced it's a sign they should give their love a second chance, but Blair is engaged to another man—a man who is absolutely wrong for her.
Can Garrett convince Blair that a player once isn’t a player forever, and that happy endings aren’t just for dreamers?
The shock on Blair’s face matched his own surprise at his out-of-nowhere declaration.
Nana Ruby was going to kill him.
He’d had no intention of laying claim to the ring, and in truth, he could give a rat’s ass about it. But damned if he was going to stand by and let his punk cousin marry Blair, let alone with that ring.
Now, instead of diffusing the situation, he’d ratcheted it up to Def-Con 1. Jesus, he had to get things under control.
“I won’t rip the ring off the bride-to-be’s hand, if that’s what you concerned about,” he said, dropping Blair’s hand and trying to control his racing heart. “We’ll wait for Nana to come tomorrow night. She can help make the decision.”
This brought on a new round of shouting and dismay. Whiney Neil tossed out the phrase “you’re her favorite.” While that was probably true, he doubted Nana could help him get the girl, which was his real goal. That one was all on him.
Blair looked on in confusion, making it abundantly clear they’d kept her in the dark about the questionable ownership of her ring. But soon her bewilderment turned to anger as she narrowed her eyes at him.
“It’s time for all of you to pay up,” his aunt said shaking the plastic cat jar. “Blair, you got off easy this time. You only owe a dollar. Neil, you owe two, and you, Gene Neilson Fredrick, must owe at least five between the drinking and the cursing.”
Uncle Gene and Aunt Debra had a stare off for several seconds before Gene caved. He must have decided to choose his battles because he dug out his wallet and sheepishly stuck a five-dollar bill into the jar. Neil put in his money and Garrett handed over a dollar when Debra shoved the jar in Blair’s direction.
His aunt scowled at him. “Surprisingly, you don’t owe anything.”
Garrett tucked his money into the jar and winked at Blair. “Oh, this is for the bride. Call it an early wedding gift. But it this is for cursing, as the label suggests, you owe some money yourself, Aunt Debra.” His eyebrows rose with mock recrimination.
“And I do believe I need to have a discussion with my mother about my true parentage. No one ever told me I was a bastard.”
Debra’s face turned red, although Garrett couldn’t tell if it was from
embarrassment or anger. Probably both.
He’d earned a scowl from Blair for donating the money on her behalf, but now he could tell she was trying to hold back a grin.
"That was an unfortunate loss of self-control.” The woman’s face twisted into disgust as she pulled her wallet out of her purse and pulled out one dollar. She screwed an indignant expression on her face. “The Lowrys seem to bring out the worst in me.”
Blair tipped her head, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Actually, Debra, you owe two dollars. One for informing your nephew of his illegitimacy and the second for spelling out the home of you know who.”
Debra’s eyes widened in shock.
“Blair!” Neil cried out in horror.
Garrett knew the Fredricks liked to tiptoe around his aunt’s self-righteous attitude.
He was glad to see Blair hadn’t kowtowed like the rest of them.
“You know who?” Garrett asked in amusement. He couldn’t help but take pleasure in riling up his aunt and irritating his cousin. Especially since Blair seemed to find Debra as obnoxious as he did. “Dare I ask who that is?”
Blair lifted her eyebrows. “Why, the prince of darkness himself.”
“Lord Voldemort?” Garrett teased, shooting his aunt an amused look.
She wasn’t so pleased. “Who is this Lord Voldemort you keep talking about? Do we need to add him to the kitty list?”
Garrett burst out into laughter. He was surprised his aunt didn’t already know about the notorious villain.
“No, Mom,” Neil said. “He’s a character from a children’s book, which explains why Garrett is so enthralled with him.”
Garrett noticed he left Blair off the naughty list, but it didn’t stop him from giving her a look of reproach. She glanced away, trying to hide her grin.
So his Blair was still there, lurking below the prim and proper exterior. Just like he’d found her years ago.
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Denise Grover Swank was born in Kansas City, Missouri and lived in the area until she was nineteen. Then she became a nomadic gypsy, living in five cities, four states and ten houses over the course of ten years before she moved back to her roots. She speaks English and smattering of Spanish and Chinese which she learned through an intensive Nick Jr. immersion period. Her hobbies include witty Facebook comments (in own her mind) and dancing in her kitchen with her children. (Quite badly if you believe her offspring.) Hidden talents include the gift of justification and the ability to drink massive amounts of caffeine and still fall asleep within two minutes. Her lack of the sense of smell allows her to
perform many unspeakable tasks.
She has six children and hasn’t lost her sanity.
Or so she leads you to believe.
Email: DeniseGroverSwank@gmail.com
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