Filthy English Read Online Free PDF Page B

me call you a cab or grab Hartford. Is he here somewhere?” He pulled out his cell.
    I propped myself against the bar to take the pressure off my foot. “You really don’t know, do you?”
    “Know what?” His brow wrinkled.
    I bit my lip and stared at the floor, feeling that familiar embarrassment I’d experienced since I’d had to explain to people that Hartford had changed his mind about getting married.
    “What am I missing?” His voice had lowered. Grown intense. Narrowed eyes flicked down to my bare finger again. “Why aren’t you wearing your engagement ring? Did he hurt you?” He took a step in closer, his hand tentatively reaching for mine but then dropping to rest by his side when I pulled away.
    “No, it’s not like that.” I straightened my spine, tired of being sad about Hartford. “He—he—dumped me two weeks before the wedding. He said he needed some time to clear his head—a break.” I laughed, but it wasn’t real. “And we all know what a break means, right?”
    His eyes widened, and maybe I saw sympathy there, but I ignored it. I didn’t want his pity.
    “Since the honeymoon was nonrefundable, I came here with Lulu, mostly to get away from the stares and my mom.” I paused, letting it all come out. “Now I don’t even have a place to live. And then there’s my autistic brother, Malcolm—I help take care of him part-time, and I don’t want to even think about my classes this fall or applying to graduate school. I had a great plan, you know —the plan. Marry a responsible, nice guy, get my doctorate, discover a new bird species, take care of Malcolm, have four kids, but guess what? My plan is shit. My goals are shit. Even my back-up plan sucks. It’s flawed because the perfect guy decided I’m not the perfect choice for him.” My voice cracked, but I yanked it back.
    “Where’s Lulu?” His voice was gentle, surprising me.
    “She’s having a great time—like I should be. Instead of my honeymoon, I’m in some skanky, mask-wearing club where even the walls probably have a venereal disease. I’m supposed to be taking romantic walks in Hyde Park—or at least having incredible sex.”
    “I’m sorry, Remi.”
    I cupped my cheeks, feeling the hotness. “I don’t even know why I’m babbling about this to you. We don’t even like each other. Please move out of my way.”
    “No.”
    “Yes,” I snapped and pushed against the brick wall of his chest to get him out of my path. He didn’t budge.
    “I’m not bloody leaving you.”
    “You’re freaking bossy,” I bit out.
    “You liked it once.” A shadow crossed his face.
    I had. I’d loved giving control over to someone. I’m yours, Dax. Do what you want.
    I pivoted to go the other way, the sudden movement causing red-hot pain to ricochet around my ankle. “Ouchhhh!” I hopped on one foot and clutched the side of the bar so I wouldn’t fall flat on my face.
    “Christ, you can barely walk,” Dax huffed in exasperation, as strong forearms went under my legs and he swept me off my feet, hefting me up.
    “What are you doing?” I cried, struggling to juggle my bag, shoes, and tequila as he lifted me.
    “Carrying you.”
    “Put me down,” I said breathlessly. His closeness was wreaking havoc with my earlier anger.
    He shook his head. “I’m starting to think you planned all this just so you could hang out with me.”
    “In your dreams.”
    Moments of heavy silence passed as he stared down at me.
    “What?” I glared at him.
    He ignored my glare, a weird expression on his face. “I’ve had a few dreams about you,” he said.
    “Nightmares?” I said smartly, but the butterflies in my stomach went crazy at the thought of him thinking about me. I shot them down one by one.
    He continued. “There’s one where you’re wearing this mermaid costume, only you have human legs and copper-red hair. Of course, I’m riding on a kick-ass stallion as I chase you down the beach. You’re screaming bloody murder—‘