What's Next
Rules for the Summer
PROLOGUE
RENLEY
“What are you doing?” I ask the man who’s joyfully down on one knee in front of me, a sparkle in his eye and hope in the upturn of his lips.
Dressed impeccably in a bespoke suit, holding out a monstrous engagement ring in a wooden box, is Theodore Williams, properly known as Theo.
British, posh, and delusional…an alarming combination in my opinion.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asks, his brown hair curling over his forehead while his clear blue eyes gaze up at me.
“It looks like you’re proposing.”
His curled smile lights up the front yard of my home where he’s firmly planted himself for this momentous occasion. “That would be correct.” Then to my horror, he clears his throat and says, “Riley—”
My expression falls flat, while his friend, Rupert, whispers, “It’s Renley. Her name is Renley.”
Theo’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, you’re right.” Plastering on that charming smile again, he continues in that posh British accent of his. “Pardon me. Renley Henrietta—”
“My middle name is not Henrietta.”
“It’s not?”
“No. It’s not.”
Confusion laces his brow, his nose scrunching up in a cute way. “What is it?”
I fold my arms over my chest. “It’s Lynn.”
“Lynn?” He tests that out for a second. “Renley Lynn…Renley Lynn. Are you sure? Because Lynn doesn’t sound right.”
“I’m positive. It’s Lynn.”
“Well then, my mistake.” Clearing his throat again, he continues. “Renley Lynn Gosling, will you do me the honor—”
“Gossage.”
His face contorts in confusion. “Huh?”
“My last name is Gossage.”
“Now you’re fucking with me.” He stands up. “It said on your profile that your last name is Gosling. Like Ryan Gosling.”
“No, it didn’t. It said Gossage, like Goose Gossage.”
“Who the hell is Goose Gossage?” he asks.
“This is very romantic,” Rupert says off to the side, looking like he’s watching a tennis match, his head bouncing back and forth.
“Richard Michael Gossage, also known as Goose, was a pitcher for the Yankees.”
“Oh.” Theo shakes his head. “I don’t do sports, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, I could tell from the leather tassel on your loafer.”
He glances down at his shoes. “These are Berlutis.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“Obviously. I could tell from the paint stains on your threadbare overalls.”
Pardon me?
“Not the way to win her over,” Rupert mutters from the side of his mouth.
“You’re right.” Theo takes a deep breath, shakes out his arms, and then gets back down on one knee.
You have got to be kidding me.
Note to self, never drink margaritas with Aunt Kitty, ever again.
Get Aunt Kitty a new tablet that is not cracked so we don’t mistake the words financier and fiancé.
And never give your home address to strangers!
He opens the ring box again, holds it in front of me, and then smiles. “Renley…uh—”
“Lynn,” Rupert assists.
“Yes, that’s right. Renley Lynn Gossage, will you do me the greatest honor of my life and be my wife?”
“Nice rhyme,” Rupert says.
“Thanks, mate,” Theo replies, and I swear, that smile of his, reaching from ear to ear, it’s gleaming. Actually sparkling.
I have known him for less than a day—yes, a day—and I already hate him.
Despise.
Desperately want to take him to my backyard and shove his face into a patch of poison ivy because he’s a thorn in my side, a massive disappointment, and everything I hate about a drunken mistake.
“So?” he asks. “Will you be my wife?”
“Absolutely…not.”
His expression flattens and he stands tall, snapping the ring box shut. “Why did you have to say it like that? With the pause? That was spiteful. I thought you were saying yes for a moment.”
“I told you I didn’t want to marry you from the beginning.”
“That’s not what your profile said.”
“Stop bringing up the profile.”
“Why would I stop bringing it up when that’s the reason I flew across the Atlantic Ocean to be here with you?”
“That was your choice, not mine.”
“Uh, it was your choice, when you selected ‘match.’”
“That’s not what I thought I was matching for, and you know it.”
He tosses the ring box to Rupert, who catches it, and sheds his suit jacket, throwing it to his friend as well. He undoes the buttons of his shirt and untucks it too.
“What on earth are you doing? If you think getting naked will convince me to marry you, then you have no idea what kind of woman I am.”
He scoffs loudly. “I have a lot more respect for myself than to flash you the goods to get you to marry me. It’s a bloody heat box in this town and I dressed up for you. I’m not going to stay dressed up if you’re going to turn me down.”
He sheds his button-up shirt and then exhales loudly before flopping back on the grass of my front yard.
For a moment, and I mean a very small moment, I allow my gaze to travel over the well-defined contours of his chest and the delicious ripple of his abs. Good for him, being able to obtain such an impressive physique. Must be nice to have that amount of time on your hands.
Not that I want to pay him any sort of compliment.
“Rupert, I’m going to need a lemonade instead of tea this afternoon.”
“Uh…I’m unaware of when I became a butler?”
Theo lifts up and blocks the sun from his eyes as he says, “Mate, my fiancée just turned down my marriage proposal. I’m hurting. Lemonade is my only cure.”
“Oh my God,” I say with a giant eye roll. “Can you wallow somewhere else? Your limbs are creeping over onto my neighbor’s lawn and I don’t want them thinking that I have strange, half-naked British men just lazing about my yard.”
“Don’t worry, they won’t be mad.”
“Pretty sure they will be.”
“No, they won’t.” He casts his hands over his face again, blocking out the sun as he looks up at me. “I’m renting their place for the summer. I’m your new neighbor, love.”
Wait…what? He’s going to be here all summer?
I turned him down, he’s “hurting,” he should be finding a flight back home.
“And this fiancé is not quite finished with you yet,” he adds.
Ohhh, hold on a freaking second.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means by the end of the summer, mark my words, you’ll be wearing my ring. I’m incredibly persuasive.”
Rupert leans in and says, “He is. He once convinced me to run a half-marathon in my mum’s best Sunday dress…and heels.”
Jesus, these two.
I don’t care if he hypnotizes me, there is no way I’m going to marry this man.
No chance.
“Dream all you want, but it’s not going to happen. Now, if you’ll excuse me, unlike you, I have actual work to do.”
As I walk away, Theo calls out from the grass, “Gossy, the British are coming and you have no idea what’s about to hit you.”
I glance over my shoulder to see him smiling once again. “You’re delusional.” Then I slip into my house and shut the door, leaning against it as I take a few deep breaths.
Dear God in heaven, where is that tablet? I need to know as much about this man as possible…and I need to order Aunt Kitty a new one.
