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)
Ned had left several hours ago to pick up Marlo from the airport and have some time with her.
“I’ve got to go, Dad. We have dinner plans,” Dair said into the phone.
“Right, son. I’ll see you. Noon. Wednesday.”
Shite.
“See you then.”
His father’s voice was thick when he said, “Miss you, son.”
He didn’t want to be an arse, but, fuck that in this situation.
“Bye, Dad.”
With that, he rang off.
“Blake’s not here?” Alex asked when Dair tucked the phone in the inside pocket of his blazer.
“She’s redone her hair three times so far,” Dair told her.
Alex smiled fondly.
Rix walked out of the room and could be heard shouting in the hall, “Blake! Get your ass down here! The car your dad sent was here five minutes ago!”
“It wasn’t, we just got the text right before we came down,” Alex confessed to Dair.
He smiled at her.
“Coming, coming!” they heard Blake call and then she was in the room, fiddling with a lightweight gold trench coat that looked like it was made from silk, and wearing the outfit Dair had selected for her.
The side of the top where the twist was meant that it exposed all of one shoulder and part of her collarbone, and the hint of skin at her middle was sexy as all fuck.
He’d chosen well.
Most of her hair was in curls tumbling over her shoulders, but the top was in a messy bunch at the back.
She’d chosen well too.
He approached her and took her coat. He shook it out for her, and she gave him a grateful smile before she turned her back to him, and he helped her put it on.
“Ready?” Rix asked.
“Ready,” Dair said.
They walked down to the car.
This dinner was not going well.
Marlo Winslet was an exceptionally attractive woman who looked maybe five years older than Blake. Then again, Ned looked fifteen years younger than he actually was.
But Marlo’s casual confidence, and the fact she was obviously well-read, well-traveled, well-educated, enjoyed life, was driven and had an edgy, sexy style that reminded him of Blake, but Marlo wore it like a second skin, shared she was likely quite a bit older.
She had a heavy fringe that teased her eyes and long hair that was light brown with loads of blond streaks in.
And she clearly thought the world of Ned.
If there were fireworks due to her not being invited to Alex’s wedding, they were over now. It was unmistakable they knew each other well, very much enjoyed each other’s company…
And were very much in love.
Dair was pleased as fuck for Ned. She seemed the perfect woman for him.
But they were through cocktails, starters and on their mains, and conversation was stilted, when it was there to be had, and this mostly came from Ned, Rix, Dair and Marlo.
Alex was naturally quiet.
Dair had no idea what the fuck was up with Blake.
Visions of Signe’s competitiveness with her “friends” stormed through his head, what with Marlo being a woman Blake might feel in competition with. And just by virtue of the fact her maturity led her to be more comfortable in her skin, she might win it. Therefore, Blake would be pissed off about it.
And he was not liking that at all.
He was about to do something, nudge her foot, squeeze her thigh, when Rix spoke up.
“Right, Alex isn’t the talkative type, so don’t take any offense to her not gabbing it up,” he announced. “She’s hell on wheels with listening. And Blake’s nervous. Dair said she did her hair at least three times before we left the house. She’s been dying to meet you and gave Ned hell we didn’t do it at our wedding. Now we see you, and you’re all class and shit, and this is obviously more serious than we thought, when we knew it was serious. So both Ned’s girls are freaking out. Silently. Don’t hold it against them. They’ll snap out of it soon enough.”
Dair couldn’t help but like the guy, and his brutal honesty and ability to communicate it without being an arsehole was part of why he did.
After he spoke, everyone started laughing, including Marlo, who seemed visibly relieved by this explanation.
Aye.
The dinner had gone that way, and it was not a good way.
“Is that an Alaïa blouse?” Blake asked Marlo.
“Good eye,” Marlo replied.
“It’s scrumptious,” Blake oozed.
“Thank you,” Marlo replied, and even though she likely knew it was a great top, Blake’s comment openly pleased her. “Your outfit is stunning.”
“Dair picked it out.”
Marlo tipped her wineglass his way. “Your man has a good eye too.”
“Don’t listen, Dad,” Blake commanded.
Ned looked to the ceiling.
Blake leaned into the table toward Marlo and stage-whispered, “It was sexier than the other one.”
Marlo did the lean thing and whispered back, “I bet.”
“I’m not really into designers,” Alex admitted after they sat back.
“You could have fooled me. That’s the perfect outfit for you,” Marlo told her.