The Girl Who Read The Dating Manual

rule nine: never admit defeat

He nodded and took my hand, threading his fingers through mine. "No matter what happens tonight, I love you. It's you and me against the world, okay?"

I grinned. "You and me."

We've had a few tumultuous affairs at the Winchester mansion, often ending in tears and fights and heartbreak, but I think Will and I are stronger than their judgmental glares and scathing retorts by now. He'd shown time and time again that I was his first choice, and I believed him, as he'd been nothing but perfect to me, and had jumped to my defense against his parents over and over. They'd always be second to him, and I knew that. As long as I had him, their opinions played little to no role in my feelings.

Easier said than done.

He took my hand, and I bid my goodbyes to Chance, Ava and Jamie, before walking out with Will. Nervousness twisted uncomfortably in my stomach, and Will gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry. I won't let them get to you."

I looked up at him with a forced smile, and we rode the elevator down. Once outside, we hopped into Will's convertible-because apparently every rich heir needs an expensive Italian car, motorcycle and limousine on standby-and rode the way in mostly silence.

Soft music played on the radio, and I hummed along in an attempt to keep my mind off of his parents and the judgmental looks I knew I'd get off of them.

All too soon we were pulling up in front of the wrought-iron gates with the embellished W insignia on the front.

Will buzzed us through and drove up the cobblestoned drive, past lush lawns and wonderful trees that opened into a forest around the back. The house was a fortress of entertainment, with a pool, man cave, cinema and even its own bar room.

The mansion stood as tall and imposing as it had the first time I'd seen it; a three-story building with Greek columns, marble tiles and balconies to rival a sixteenth-century play.

Will pulled up out the front, and I slowly undid the seatbelt. Will stepped out and walked around to my side, opening the door and helping me out. I smoothed the skirts and looked up at the front, with its lion door knocker and imposing mahogany.

Will led me up the stairs and to the front door, and rapped the door knocker loudly enough that I heard it echo through the house. As his spare hand fidgeted with his bow-tie, I realized that in my nervousness I'd never realized how anxious he may be as well. The last time they'd talked, it had ended in a fight between them over me and our engagement.

The door opened far too quickly, and standing there like a goddess was his mother; with the same reddish-brown hair, green-gold eyes and red lips that curled into a smile bordering between politeness and mockery. Genevieve Winchester was a superior creature, with tailored suits and kitten heels worth more than my rent. One withering look could send you cowering, and one compliment could have you preening for a year. She just genuinely held that much influence.

"William," she said, her face sliding into an effortless grin that had probably secured a lot of business deals. She spoke to her son with nothing but love, and when her eyes dropped to me, her lips thinned and her nose scrunched slightly, making me feel about three feet tall and covered in zits. "Candice."

I inclined my head respectfully. "Mrs. Winchester."

She stepped forward and hugged her son tightly, and he shot me a look of contempt over her shoulder. "I've missed you, son."

He pulled back with a tight smile, and she gestured us into the foyer, with its hurricane vases and fresh flowers and crystal chandeliers. It was more regal than I ever could've dreamed.