Page 9 of Ungodly Rich

Julia lifted the champagne to her lips and took a small sip. It tasted like honey, its bubbles exploding along the back of her tongue.

A sudden commotion in the lobby made her set down her glass. “Just send it to my room,” a man’s voice boomed. “I don’t see what the problem is.”

Julia glanced over to see a man at the concierge desk wearing a fluffy robe and slippers, his hair damp, as if he’d come straight from the pool or perhaps the spa. He wasn’t classically handsome, certainly not the way Harry was. His features were rough and his torso soft, like that of a former athlete who’d declined in middle age. Yet he had that elusivesomethingthat Harry did. A sort of magnetic pull that inexplicably drew your eyes.

“Julia?” Harry asked as the man in the lobby glanced up.

The stranger’s eyes raked eagerly over her long legs. Then he noticed Harry, and his grin broadened.

“Well, shit.” Ignoring the concierge, who was still stammering a reply, the man strode into the bar area. “What the hell areyoudoing here?”

Julia watched the storm of emotions on her boyfriend’s face. “We can go,” she murmured, but it was too late, the stranger had come to join them.

“Dylan. It’s good to see you,” Harry said, though he didn’t sound happy.

Dylan smiled in a way that was boyishly mischievous, almost infectious. “And who is this lovely lady?”

He smelled like chlorine and spa products. Up close, Julia saw the crease lines around his eyes and mouth, though they gave him an air of good-natured indulgence rather than exhaustion. He looked like a cheerful frat boy who’d never grown up.

“I’m Julia,” she introduced herself, since Harry didn’t seem inclined to say anything.

“Enchanté.” Dylan lifted her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. Julia was so charmed that she forgot to be self-conscious about the burn marks on the backs of her hands.

“How do you two know each other?” she asked.

Dylan cast a wounded glance at Harry. “You haven’t mentioned your favorite cousin?”

“I don’t—”

“Favorite cousin?” Julia exclaimed. Harry so rarely shared details of his life before her. It had taken months before he admitted that he’d once been a marine, and that despite his odd accent, he was American. But no matter how hard she pressed, he never disclosed much about his family.I pushed them away,was all he ever admitted. They’ve never really understood me, and then I made it worse. I did some things I’m not proud of.

Julia knew how it felt when your family didn’t understand your choices. For years, every time she FaceTimed her aunt and uncle, they asked if she was ready to move back home.I saw Sue Ellen Craddock at Kroger,her aunt Jess would exclaim,her son Matthew came back to town and is teaching high school science.Julia wasn’t sure if these tidbits were supposed to make her want to date Matthew Craddock or apply for a high school teaching job. Probably both.

Thankfully, her aunt and uncle’s questions had lessened ever since they had visited last year and met Harry. They clearly sensed that he was good for her, and that she was happy in Queenstown, even if it was painfully far from home.

Dylan climbed onto the bar stool next to Julia with a wink. His robe fell slightly open as he moved, revealing a pair of swim trunks printed with tiny martini glasses. “Lucas,” he called out, waving to the bartender. “Grab me a glass and put the bottle on my room, please.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry protested, though he seemed resigned to his cousin’s presence.

Dylan shrugged. “I’m here for work; the family is paying. Let them foot the bill.”

“You work for your family?” Julia asked.

Both men were momentarily silent at her words. The bartender poured champagne into another flute, filling it all the way to the brim, before depositing the bottle in a bucket of snow. Where did the snow come from, Julia wondered; did they ship it from the mountains?

Dylan accepted the champagne absently. “Forgive me, Julia, but how long have you and Harry been…” His eyes darted between them as if he was searching for the appropriate word. “Together?”

“Two years,” Harry said.

“Tonight is our anniversary, actually,” Julia chimed in.

“Ah, congratulations.” Dylan gestured with the dangerously full champagne flute, though miraculously, none of it sloshed over the sides. “In that case, I should let you get back to celebrating. I’ll see you next month, Harry.”

Harry’s reply was immediate. “I’m not going.”

Julia glanced at her boyfriend in confusion. He hadn’t mentioned any family events next month.

“Why not?” Dylan pressed. “Everyone will want to see you. They’ve all been wondering what you’re up to.”