Free The Angels' Share (The Bourbon Kings Book 2) by J. R. Ward Page B

again, say what one would about the woman’s morals, she always looked classy. It was the bone structure. The Bradford superiority. The beauty.
    “—invitation soon,” Richard said. “We expect you to attend.”
    Samuel T. glanced at the broomstick sitting across from her. “Oh, for your wedding? Or are we talking about her father’s funeral? I get the two confused.”
    “Our nuptials.”
    “Well, I’m so honored to be on a list that no doubt will be as exclusive as Wikipedia.”
    “Youdon’t have to come,” Gin said quietly. “I know you’re quite busy.”
    He looked at that diamond ring on her finger and thought, yes, she had done well for herself. He certainly wouldn’t have been able to afford a gem of that size, and he was hardly a pauper. Pford’s money was on Bradford levels, though.
    So yes, it was a helluva lifeboat she had chosen to jump into. It would have been safer for her to try to swim with the sharks.
    “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Samuel T. murmured. “And I’m sure that daughter of yours is thrilled to finally get a father.”
    As Gin blanched, he refused to feel bad. Like so much of Gin’s life, “that daughter,” Amelia, was a mistake, the result of one of her random hook-ups after she’d gone off to college, a living, breathing bad decision that, as far as he understood, she had failed to parent and barely acknowledged.
    Why couldn’t he have just hated her? Samuel T. wondered. God knew there was reason enough.
    Hatred had never been the problem, however.
    “You know,” Samuel T. drawled, “I envy you two so much. Marriage is such a beautiful thing.”
    “How is Lane’s divorce going?” Richard said. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it.”
    “Among other things. You know, one in three marriages end in divorce. But that won’t be you two. True love is so wonderful to see live and in person. You are beacons to us all.”
    Richard’s brow lifted. “I didn’t think you were the settling kind.”
    “I’m not at the moment. But my dream girl is out there. I just know it.”
    That was not a lie. Unfortunately, she was marrying this asshole having breakfast with her—and the term that better fit Gin’s role in Samuel T.’s life was “nightmare.” But he’d meant his RSVP. He would be there when she walked down the aisle with this fool just to remind himself of the reality of their relationship.
    As the sound of a powerful car engine percolated through the old-fashioned,single-paned windows, Samuel T. nodded to the happy couple. “My client’s arrived. I can tell the purr of a Porsche anywhere. It’s like the sound of a woman’s orgasm—something you never forget.”
    Turning away, he paused at the archway. “Something for you to work toward with her, Richard. Good luck with that, and call me if you need any instruction. I gave her her first one.”
    L ane pulled up to Easterly in his 911 and parked next to his attorney’s classic maroon Jaguar.
    “What a view,” he said as he got out.
    Lizzie looked up from the ivy bed she was on her knees in front of. Wiping her brow with her forearm, she smiled. “I just started about five minutes ago. Things will look even better in an hour.”
    He walked onto the cropped grass. Off in the distance, he heard the hum of a lawn mower, the chatter of electronic clippers, a low whir from a leaf blower.
    “I wasn’t talking about the horticulture.” Bending down, he kissed her on the mouth. “Where is—”
    “Guten Morgen
.
”
    Lane straightened and hid his grimace. “Greta. How are you?”
    As Lizzie’s partner came around the magnolia tree, he braced himself for the German woman’s presence. With her short blond hair, her tortoiseshell glasses, and her no-nonsense attitude, Greta von Schlieber was capable of great feats of gardening—and deep, abiding grudges.
    As a string of German came back at him, he was pretty sure she was wishing him a good day in such a way that a piano ended up falling on