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)
Therefore, he gave in.
“All right, lassie, then we’ll go.”
Her eyes lit with hope, but her mouth repeated, “You don’t have to.”
“Aye. I ken. But I’ll not be letting ye go on your own.”
“Alex will be with me. Which means Rix will too.”
“And I will too.”
Both her hands came up to hold his cheeks.
She stared into his eyes.
He stared into hers.
Fucking hell.
It hit him like a bullet.
He already loved her.
And, Christ.
She felt the same.
“Thank you,” she whispered, saying that instead of the words he read in her eyes.
“Never thank me for looking after ye, lassie,” he whispered back.
She got up on her toes at the same time she pulled him down to her so she could press her forehead hard against his while closing her eyes tight.
He gave her that moment to pull it together.
She took it, and as Blake had a tendency to do, bested it and rolled down to her feet, let him go and turned back to her curling iron, saying, “We have to leave soon, honey.”
He took his cue.
Fortunately, as it happened, Nora had arranged for a selection of hats for the Sharp women.
They both went understated, Alex in a black and white tweed blazer, black trousers, a black blouse and a simple black hat with a downturned brim.
Blake redefined funereal elegance in a slim black pantsuit, black turtleneck, black heels and a little black hat that came down further over her head and had a little veil.
They sat at the back, but even so, caused a mild sensation to those who caught sight of them.
They didn’t bother the grieving father and mother, the latter of whom was in a wheelchair with her arm in a sling, a cast on her foot and torment etched in her face.
Regardless of the occasion, and the privacy it should have earned, someone snapped shots of them.
They were all over social media within hours.
So going to that wee lass’s funeral hadn’t been the least bit fun, but it gave his woman some peace.
Even so, because of those photos, it would become a problem.
“Ye were faking it?”
That evening, Dair and Rix were in some room clearly designed for men to smoke cigars, drink port and scratch their balls. It was so masculine, even Dair felt overpowered by it.
They were there alone because, at first, Blake and Alex had some sister date they’d arranged that was just for the two of them. Not too long ago, though, they’d come and collected Ned to be a part of this date.
Leaving Dair and Rix.
“At first,” Rix replied to his question. “That’s how Alex and me began. And heads up, Chloe is a matchmaker. Judge told me, after our wedding, she’d shifted into ultrasonic gear, conniving with Nora and Mika on ways to get you two together. She said it was going to be her ultimate challenge, considering you both live in different countries. She was bummed when she found out you were already together before she could meddle.”
Dair chuckled.
“So, naturally, she’s shifted focus,” Rix continued. “That’s why she’s been shoving JT and Laird in your or Blake’s arms every chance she got.”
Dair chuckled at that as well, though this time, he spoke through it.
“Didnae miss that.”
“Yeah,” Rix said on a smile. “So back then, Chloe got wind that Alex told Blake that she and I were together, and I’d be coming as her plus one to her wedding because—”
Abruptly, he stopped speaking.
“Because?” Dair prompted.
Rix cleared his throat and shifted his lounging position in the battered leather armchair that was such high quality when it was made, the battered part only made it more comfortable, the leather was like butter, and it smelled vaguely of cigar smoke, though Dair thought that added to its charm.
But Dair was confused.
“Rix?”
“You’ve known Blake all her life, right?”
Dair nodded.
“So you know she wasn’t…who she is today?”
Dair relaxed. “Aye, I ken.”
“She was a total bitch to Alex.”
Dair tensed again.
That, he didn’t know.
“That mean girl comment yesterday?” Rix asked.
Dair jerked up his chin, indicating he remembered.
“Well, Blake took the cake when it came to mean girls,” Rix told him. “Alex lied about me coming to the wedding as her plus one just so Blake would have one less thing to be shitty to her about.”
Dair felt an unnerving sensation scratching at the back of his throat.
“There’s more,” Rix kept talking. “Alex didn’t even know she was in the wedding until a few weeks before. She wasn’t invited to the shower or the bachelorette party. She was expected to lay out a bunch of cash for her dress and shit, all at the last minute. Not like my woman isn’t loaded, but she doesn’t spend her money on crap like that.”
Dair turned his attention to his tumbler of whisky, fighting that feeling that hadn’t left his throat.
“Saw her throw a tantrum myself, and it wasn’t pretty,” Rix muttered and took a sip of his own whisky. “Night and day, who she is now and who she was then.”