Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 120838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 604(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 604(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
He was ticked.
“Ye ken?” he asked, his voice a lash.
He knew too?
“You know?” I asked back.
He stepped out of my arms. “What were ye gonna do? Cover for her?”
“No,” I snapped, not believing he’d think I’d do that. Especially after what he knew Chad did to me. “I was trying to distract you with getting me cake so I could go behind the groom’s lounge, talk your parents into doing whatever they’re going to do elsewhere, and finding somewhere quiet to commit matricide so Alex won’t know I murdered our mother at her wedding. I’ll talk to the police about not sharing my crime until she returns from her honeymoon. And I’m happy I wore dark green so the blood stains won’t be too obvious on my mugshot.”
He glowered at me.
I didn’t have time for him to be ticked.
Something had to be done before someone started yelling.
He didn’t get over being ticked, or glowering, but he stopped doing that last aimed at me and started prowling across the dance floor.
Tragedy!
I hustled after him as fast as my gold mules would take me.
I did not catch up. His legs were long, and he wasn’t wearing high heels. But I didn’t stop rushing while trying not to look like I was rushing and smiling a tight smile at anyone who caught my eyes.
Maybe they’d think I was ordering another case of champagne to be opened, um…with urgency.
Yes, I’d totally be a shit spy.
I turned the corner of the groom’s lounge and ran right into Dair’s broad back.
“We do not need an audience for this,” Balfour was saying.
I stepped to the side and got a full view of the very unhappy threesome.
Wait, it was an unhappy twosome: Balfour and Kenna.
Mum was veritably preening.
She was such a fucking piece of work.
“Take Mum back to the hotel,” Dair ordered his father.
“Alasdair, this doesn’t involve ye,” Balfour retorted.
And he looked a fool doing it, with my mother’s deep rose lipstick smeared all over his mouth.
It was smeared all over hers too.
Kenna was standing off to the side, looking like her world just ended.
She’d seen them necking.
She maybe knew before, perhaps she was unsure, perhaps living in denial, but she wasn’t in any question about it now.
And again, she’d always been kind to me.
Not to mention, I knew exactly how this felt.
But I didn’t have forty years of marriage under my belt with Chad.
These thoughts filled my veins with so much fire, I had to let some out.
It came from my mouth, and I directed it at who deserved it.
My mother.
“I never thought much of you, but are you really this woman?” I demanded hotly.
“Blake,” Bally said more calmly. “If ye’d take my son—”
“No,” I snapped at him. “This is my sister’s wedding. I’ve known what kind of man you are for years, but this is a new low.”
Bally flinched.
Dair pulled me to his side and repeated to his father, “Take Mum back to the hotel.”
Balfour was repeating too. “This doesn’t involve either of ye.”
Dair’s bark of laughter this time had zero amusement.
“Really?” he sneered. “You using our school holidays to have a fuckfest like the total twat and common tart you two arseholes are, doing this every year since we were wee isn’t my business?”
Mum wasn’t preening anymore.
It was the “common tart” comment, I knew. She’d hate that, and she did.
“Blake Charlotte, remove Wallace and yourself this instant,” Mum demanded.
I didn’t know what came over me.
Oh wait.
I did.
Years of her being a total and complete bitch.
But this…
This took the damned cake.
I broke from Dair’s hold, strode forward, and slapped her across the face with everything I had.
It was so violent, she cried out, flew to the side and bent double, her hand going to her cheek.
I wouldn’t have done it again, and not only because it made my hand sting hella bad, but it was still good Dair caught my wrist from behind, curled my arm around my belly, yanked me against his body and pulled me back several steps.
I might not have been about to strike twice physically, but he didn’t contain my mouth.
“I know this will mean nothing,” I ground out between my teeth. “I know nothing penetrates your utter and complete selfishness. But an assignation with your married lover at your daughter’s wedding? What is the matter with you?”
“What’s going on?”
Fabulous.
Dad was here.
He came up to Dair and my sides and recoiled at the tableau in front of him, his reaction stating plainly he’d translated it without a word of explanation.
In that split instant, several things occurred to me.
One, Dad had it going on. He was older, but he was exceptionally good-looking. He had that Pierce Brosnan thing happening. He’d be hot when he was eighty.
Two, Kenna gave Dair (and Davina) all their good looks.
It wasn’t that Bally was a ginger. I’d seen a lot of redheaded men who were gorgeous.