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)
Another interruption from Dair. “Reckon so, since ye use them more than he does.”
“Actually, I don’t,” I snapped.
“Oh, right, ye live in your Mum’s place in New York.”
I didn’t need a reminder of that either.
Though, this was Alasdair Wallace to a T.
Total bully.
I should find something I needed to do, make an excuse and walk away from him.
The problem was, I was incredibly good at party planning. Everything had been sorted for the entire weekend weeks ago.
Sure, I had a binder with a dizzying number of checklists. And I had to be up tomorrow at six o’clock to have breakfast and a shower in order to be fueled and ready to go over everything, start making calls to confirm, be certain everyone was where they were supposed to be, everything was in place and all that was taken care of before I got my hair and makeup done so I could walk down the aisle to attend my sister.
But that was just me being over-organized and wanting Alex and Rix to have their day where everything went off without a hitch. My ultimate goal was that all they had to do was show up, say their I do’s, then eat, drink, dance and be merry before they were off on their honeymoon.
The fact I didn’t have an excuse to pull me away from Dair right then wasn’t the reason I didn’t walk away.
No, it was because I was done with anyone being a bully to me.
Especially Dair Wallace.
“Your point?” I demanded.
He was studying me closely. “Just teasing ye, lass.”
“You don’t know me well enough to tease me like that,” I noted.
“Known ye since ye were wee.”
“What’s my favorite color?” I asked.
It was his turn to look confused. “How’s that relevant?”
“What’s my birthday?”
“Blake—”
I got closer to him and bit, “You’ve never known me well enough to tease me, Dair. Though, that’s never stopped you.”
His voice lowered, and in doing so, got even more rumbly. “Calm down, Blake.”
“I’m perfectly calm,” I retorted. “I’m also perfectly sick and tired of allowing people to treat me like shit.”
His chin jerked back.
“Enjoy the barbeque,” I bid, then stupid me, way too late, I walked away.
I sensed I looked like a fool.
Everyone was in pretty, but casual sundresses (except Chloe, Judge’s wife, and one of Alex’s bridesmaids, and this wasn’t only because Judge was a groomsman, but because Chloe and my sister were tight—but Chloe was also a Pierce, that being the daughter of a famous pro tennis player and even more famous Hollywood actress, so even if she lived in the Arizona mountains with her husband, she still dressed like she was going out to a three hundred dollar dinner in LA).
But I was me.
I didn’t own a single casual, pretty sundress.
This was why I was wearing a rose-colored, one shoulder, figure-skimming dress that went to my ankles, had some ruching at the side waist, a billowy bow draped on the shoulder, and a high side slit.
I was wearing this with a pair of Christian Louboutin Sandale du Désert, four-inch, satin ankle wrap sandals.
It was totally over-the-top for this bar.
From what I’d learned, it was totally over-the-top for the entire state of Arizona.
And right then, I felt self-conscious about it, because I felt Dair’s eyes heating my back as I walked away.
I should have dressed down.
I just didn’t know how.
“This is me. This is me. This is me. It’s okay to be me,” I whispered to myself as I walked to the bar to get another glass of wine.
It wouldn’t be good wine, even though I tried my best with their limited wine menu.
But I was going to drink it.
I’d just got my order in when I heard, “You all right?”
I twisted to see Chloe standing next to me.
“Everything’s fine,” I lied.
But seriously?
Why did I let Dair get under my skin like that?
I needed to think about why this happened and let go of it.
I didn’t like him. I never liked him.
Okay, that was a lie.
When I got old enough to know that boys were more than dirty, irritatingly rambunctious and overall annoying, I had a crush on Dair, because he was almost as good-looking a boy as he was a man.
Then he took every opportunity to remind me how boys were dirty, frustratingly rambunctious and unceasingly annoying, and I got over it (though, truth told, it hurt a little that he didn’t like me “like that,” as, I told myself, any girl would feel the pain of a boy she had a crush on not liking her back).
Bottom line, he wasn’t even my type.
However, I thought my type was Chad, and very tardily realized I was very wrong about that. He was Mum’s. I’d gone through the whole fiasco with him just to gain my mother’s approval. Humiliating myself and costing Dad thousands and thousands of dollars through the process.