Read Flame (Fire on the Mountain #2) for Free Online Page B

handsome father. A forced pageant smile stretches across her face as they carefully step inside, taking a moment to soak in the overwhelming scene. When her gaze lands on Gunner, who’s beaming at her down the aisle, the smile relaxes into something natural and true, lighting up her eyes like I’ve never seen before.
    Feeling almost voyeuristic as I watch them share this intimate moment, I quickly shift my focus . . . directly onto Levi. He’s staring straight at me, not bothering to look away and hide the fact when I catch him. Lifting his eyebrows suggestively, he silently says, I’m dying to see what’s waiting for me under that dress.
    Snickering, I shake my head ever so slightly. A bit sure of ourselves, aren’t we?
    Abso-fucking-lutely. I mean, look at me. Who could refuse this package of awesomeness? He briefly glances down at himself, then back up at me, waiting for my reply.
    My eyes follow his, scanning his body from head-to-toe, and truth be told, the guy is absolutely mouthwatering in his tux . . . except for the fact I think he’s wearing someone else’s. Someone who’s three inches shorter and two jacket sizes smaller.
    I try not to laugh. I really do. The whole bridal march thing and all going on, but damn if a little titter doesn’t escape past my red-stained lips. Thankfully, he’s the only one who notices.
    Your ass is gonna pay for that outburst, he warns with a mischievous smirk.
    Calm down, Incredible Hulk. Don’t get excited and bust any seams over there.
    His broad chest quakes with concealed laughter, even more exaggerated due to the jacket pulled taut across his pecs. Pecs that clearly spend a good amount of time in the gym. I didn’t notice when we first met, or maybe I was too busy staring at his mesmerizing eyes and the buttons holding back his semi, but the dude is big. At least six-foot-three and an upper body that looks like he can bench press a few of me, he’s got to be bigger than any guy I’ve ever been with before. I’m usually attracted to smaller-framed guys, because I’m quite petite, the shortest and thinnest of all six Shavell sisters, but as I gape at his equally large hands and feet, I find myself wondering . . .
    Levi transfers his weight from one leg to the other, snapping me from my impure thoughts. Lifting my eyes back to his, the playfulness is replaced with something else. Something daring and daunting and promising, all at once. If I were wearing panties right now, they’d be soaked.
    I’ll go easy on you, Sunshine. You don’t have to be afraid, he taunts.
    Fiery rebellion flares to life inside me. I don’t need easy, and I’m not afraid. Of anyone.
    Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, Emilia reaches the front of the room and hands me her bouquet, thus ending the telepathic conversation between me and the pompous-ass brute. The minister begins to speak, and even though I pretend to pay attention for the duration of the vow exchange, my thoughts are . . . elsewhere .
    In a bed. Against a wall. Bent over a table. I can’t decide which elsewhere I want first.

    When Emilia and Gunner are finally introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Rhys “Gunner” Griffin, the entire room breaks out in applause, with several people making some weird noise that sounds like “Brraaap.” I don’t have time to think much about what it means before the bride and groom take off toward the double doors in the back of the room, which is my cue to follow. On the arm of Levi, of course. Somehow, we make it down the aisle fully clothed.
    Once outside the ballroom, we flock to Emilia and Gunner, hugging and congratulating the newlyweds. I, along with the bride and Meghan, get swept away several minutes later for a quick hair and makeup touch-up before pictures, which begin once all the guests have exited into the lobby for the cocktail hour.
    Photo after photo is snapped of the wedding party and the bride and groom’s families, in every different combination of people possible, which takes