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)
“No problem, lass,” he said. “If that official bit ye were mentioning earlier means you’re going to be in the UK a lot more, then I’ll take ye an hour-and-a-half plane ride away a good deal easier than that ride being seven and requiring getting through Immigration.”
“Yes,” she said slowly, watching him carefully, “the official bit meant I was going to be in the UK more now.”
However, how she said that made him think that wasn’t what it meant.
But she tugged her tote to her and busied herself rummaging in it, and Dair took her hint.
He looked out the window at the English countryside rushing past.
They had Marlo tonight.
She was going to be confronted with more of her mother when they hit Helena’s London residence.
He had a match to call tomorrow.
Whatever had gone on before, she was close to her family now, and they were leaving, so she had to deal with that.
And he had to go home, get his dog, and she had to deal with more of the flotsam and jetsam left in the wake of Helena’s passing.
They could have a break from each other, and he could talk to her about what Rix said when she got back to Edinburgh.
On his decision, he reached to take her hand, and he didn’t like it when she hesitated before her fingers curled around his.
But they curled around his.
So all was good.
For now.
Blake was in the bathroom, fussing with her hair, when yet another text came in from his father.
Dair read it. I have to speak to you. Urgently.
He knew his mum was home, figuring out her own shite.
Davi had his dog and a date the next night with the man she was having her situationship with who Dair hadn’t yet met, but he could tell with the way Davi was talking, she liked him better than most.
And if anything happened to either of them, he’d get a call before his father would.
He glanced at Blake through the bathroom door.
She’d had her hair down the last time he looked at her, now it was half up and half down.
They had to leave in fifteen minutes. Ned had ordered a car to come and get them.
But apparently, whatever she was doing was going to take a while.
And Dair needed to stop fucking around with this issue with his father.
He moved the door to the bathroom.
“Babe?” he called.
She turned to him and pointed to her head. “How does this look?”
“Gorgeous.”
“Better or worse than all down?”
He grinned. “Baby, dinnae ask me that. The answer will always be ‘all down’ because I’m thinking of my fist in it or it all over my lap when you’re sucking me off.”
She made a face at him, but he didn’t miss the fire in her eyes.
Then she bossed, “There are two outfits on the bed. Pick a meet-your-dad’s-girlfriend-who-means-a-great-deal-to-him one and put the other one back in the wardrobe, please.”
At least she tacked a please on that.
“On it,” he told her. “I’ll do that and then I have to make a call.”
“Right,” she said to the mirror, so preoccupied with her hair, she didn’t ask him what call he had to make.
He registered that thought but set it aside and moved to the bed.
And he heard her say from the loo, “And don’t pick the sexy one you want to fuck me in.”
That made him chuckle.
He didn’t even really look at the two outfits. They were both gorgeous. Both classy. And she’d look fantastic in either of them.
But he picked the ivory satin set with the sleeveless top that had a very high neck with a twist at the side that created some gathers across her chest, and it turned in at a bottom that was high so it’d expose some skin at her middle. This had matching trousers with deep pleats and a thin rope belt that cinched a paper bag-looking waistband.
Right, so he picked that because it would cling to her, it was sexier, and the gold heels she had on the floor under where she’d set it out were fuck-me shoes.
But it was still stylish and more her than the conservative dress laid out beside it.
He put the dress away and took his phone with him as he moved toward the door of the bedroom, saying to Blake, “All sorted.”
She had her hair down again but was bunching it up when he passed. “Thanks, honey.”
The hair thing made him halt.
“Stop fretting,” he ordered. “She’s going to like ye.”
She turned to him and the anxiety was no longer hidden.
Bloody hell.
His sweet girl.
He went to her, kissed her nose, her forehead, then her mouth before he pulled back a wee bit and reiterated, “She’s going to like ye.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
He winked at her and walked out.
He jogged down the steps of Helena’s—no, Blake’s—Belgravia townhome.
This place seemed more Blake than the stodgy, lived-in, but still attractive Treverton. It was all feminine, pale colors, mixed with creams and ivories, and it was more modern, elegant and sophisticated.