Heirly Ever After
by Magan Vernon
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Entangled Embrace
Release Date: May 10, 2021
Sometimes, you’ve got to take a fake date to your sister’s royal wedding…
After pumping the breaks on my college degree and being dumped at the last minute, I’m looking forward to skipping off to a whole new country for the week-long event. But I’ll need the perfect distraction to keep both my sister and mother from finding out about my epic disaster life. So when I meet a charming Scottish stunner on the train, whose chivalry and humor have me swooning, a quick coin toss seals the deal on my hot date.
It’s the perfect plan, until he reveals he is Lord Jacob MacWebley, odd duckling and long-lost cousin of the family my sister is about to marry into. Thanks for the full disclosure. Oh, and apparently no one wants him there because he might have a claim to the inheritance. Wedding week is going to suck, but it’s too late for other options—luckily, I’m a pro at dealing with a little family drama.
But between a gentle countryside horse ride that turns into a chase, and the baking class that ends in a food fight we forget to keep up the lies and start blurring the lines instead… against any available surface. Jacob brings me out of my shell and makes me want to break all etiquette rules, but he’s keeping secrets and if I’m not careful, I might end up royally screwed…
“Boyfriend, you need to sober up.”
“So, ye do like me calling you my girlfriend? That’s cute. We’re cute.”
“How much did you have to drink?”
“Pft, not that much. The Webleys actually do know their good scotch.”
Once we got to our room, I pushed the door open and walked toward the couch, trying to push Jacob down onto the warm leather but ended up tumbling with him, our limbs and legs in a tangle. I tried to unwind us, but instead we laid chest to chest, the heat of his body pressing into mine and warming me to my very center.
His smile slowly faded as his eyes went from glassy to hooded. His hand pushed back a strand of my hair behind my ear, his fingertips lingering near my neck, sending a shiver all the way through me.
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the heavy beating of my heart. “We’re not going to do this again, Jacob.”
“Do what?” he whispered, his head bending toward my neck, his breath tickling the bare skin above my shirt.
Heat pooled between my legs and I tried to ignore the pressure of his length against me. “You know.”
“No, I don’t. Tell me.” His lips brushed against my skin and a soft sigh escaped my mouth. His chest heaved against mine and it took everything I had to sit still and not push myself closer to him.
Instead, I pressed both of my hands against the couch and then untangled myself from his limbs before standing. “I need to shower and I’m not having this conversation when you’re drunk.”
Or ever.
He leaned back against the sofa, his head lolling against the armrest. “I’ll give ye that one, but you know we will end up talking. Or not talking. Or both.”
I shook my head, ducking it as I quickly shut the room door. “Take a little nap.”
“Already done,” he mumbled.
Staring over him, he was peaceful with his eyes closed, a serene smile on his face.
Dammit.
Why did he have to be cute?
Why did he have to be sweet?
Why did he have to reject me?
This push and pull was getting old and I had to not only protect my own heart, but my sister’s as well. I refused to do anything that could ruin her wedding, and Jacob was suspect.
He was here for a reason and I was going to get it out of him.
Maybe now that his tongue was loose from alcohol was the time to ask.
Slowly, I sunk back down to the couch. “Jacob?”
“Hmmm?”
“So, I did a little bit of research on your family…”
“Ah, the MacWebleys. Black sheep as the fine English Webleys like to think of us. Baa Baa.” His eyes stayed close, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
It wouldn’t be long before he fell asleep and maybe he wouldn’t remember this conversation.
“What are you really doing here, Jacob? Is it because of money? Is that why you got drunk with Hugh?”
“You wouldn’t understand. I can’t hurt you or your family,” he muttered so garbled, I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right.
“Hurt me and my family?” I leaned in closer. “Jacob what are you talking about?”
“It’s all gonna work out. Maybe,” he mumbled.
“What will? Jacob? Jacob?” I shook at his shoulder, hoping to rouse him for at least another half response. But he was already out, his chest now rising and falling in a steady beat.
Dammit.
Maybe that was the most I’d ever get out of him, but I had to hope there was another way to understand it.
At least he didn’t want to hurt me.
But would he?
My stomach twitched. Of course, he would.
I needed to protect myself in all of this.
So I stood up and headed to the bathroom, letting him sleep off his morning scotch.
I’d try and put everything he’d said to the back of my mind as just a drunken stupor. But no matter how hard I tried, I’d never get him or his words out of my head. So it was time to do some investigating of my own if he wasn’t going to answer.
“So, ye do like me calling you my girlfriend? That’s cute. We’re cute.”
“How much did you have to drink?”
“Pft, not that much. The Webleys actually do know their good scotch.”
Once we got to our room, I pushed the door open and walked toward the couch, trying to push Jacob down onto the warm leather but ended up tumbling with him, our limbs and legs in a tangle. I tried to unwind us, but instead we laid chest to chest, the heat of his body pressing into mine and warming me to my very center.
His smile slowly faded as his eyes went from glassy to hooded. His hand pushed back a strand of my hair behind my ear, his fingertips lingering near my neck, sending a shiver all the way through me.
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the heavy beating of my heart. “We’re not going to do this again, Jacob.”
“Do what?” he whispered, his head bending toward my neck, his breath tickling the bare skin above my shirt.
Heat pooled between my legs and I tried to ignore the pressure of his length against me. “You know.”
“No, I don’t. Tell me.” His lips brushed against my skin and a soft sigh escaped my mouth. His chest heaved against mine and it took everything I had to sit still and not push myself closer to him.
Instead, I pressed both of my hands against the couch and then untangled myself from his limbs before standing. “I need to shower and I’m not having this conversation when you’re drunk.”
Or ever.
He leaned back against the sofa, his head lolling against the armrest. “I’ll give ye that one, but you know we will end up talking. Or not talking. Or both.”
I shook my head, ducking it as I quickly shut the room door. “Take a little nap.”
“Already done,” he mumbled.
Staring over him, he was peaceful with his eyes closed, a serene smile on his face.
Dammit.
Why did he have to be cute?
Why did he have to be sweet?
Why did he have to reject me?
This push and pull was getting old and I had to not only protect my own heart, but my sister’s as well. I refused to do anything that could ruin her wedding, and Jacob was suspect.
He was here for a reason and I was going to get it out of him.
Maybe now that his tongue was loose from alcohol was the time to ask.
Slowly, I sunk back down to the couch. “Jacob?”
“Hmmm?”
“So, I did a little bit of research on your family…”
“Ah, the MacWebleys. Black sheep as the fine English Webleys like to think of us. Baa Baa.” His eyes stayed close, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
It wouldn’t be long before he fell asleep and maybe he wouldn’t remember this conversation.
“What are you really doing here, Jacob? Is it because of money? Is that why you got drunk with Hugh?”
“You wouldn’t understand. I can’t hurt you or your family,” he muttered so garbled, I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right.
“Hurt me and my family?” I leaned in closer. “Jacob what are you talking about?”
“It’s all gonna work out. Maybe,” he mumbled.
“What will? Jacob? Jacob?” I shook at his shoulder, hoping to rouse him for at least another half response. But he was already out, his chest now rising and falling in a steady beat.
Dammit.
Maybe that was the most I’d ever get out of him, but I had to hope there was another way to understand it.
At least he didn’t want to hurt me.
But would he?
My stomach twitched. Of course, he would.
I needed to protect myself in all of this.
So I stood up and headed to the bathroom, letting him sleep off his morning scotch.
I’d try and put everything he’d said to the back of my mind as just a drunken stupor. But no matter how hard I tried, I’d never get him or his words out of my head. So it was time to do some investigating of my own if he wasn’t going to answer.
Magan Vernon believes that no matter what your story is, everyone deserves a happily ever after and tries to include that in all of her stories. She's had top 100 stories in everything from YA aliens to angsty New Adult tales.
When not writing, you can find her on her Texas ranch, trying to wrangle two kids, two dogs, and a colony of whatever other kids or animals ends up in her yard.
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