Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Weddings. I spend every working minute thinking and talking and writing about weddings, when the very concept makes me want to scream. After my fiancé abandoned me at the altar last year, my dream job at Bride magazine has turned reoccurring nightmare.
To add insult to injury, I’ve been conscripted into the bridal party of some bridezilla just because she knows the owners’ son. So of course I spend all afternoon bickering with one of the groomsmen and all evening making out with him.
Things only get better when I learn that of course he’s the owner’s son and I’ll have to spend the rest of the season working with him at every single wedding I cover this year.
Can the jilted bride and the man who is afraid of love find a way to heal each other?
At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied
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1
SLOANE
“Oh dear Lord.” Elijah blinked up at me. “You’re joking, right?”
I snort-laughed and raised my hand to get my brother Will’s attention. “Nope. This is what we’re stuck with.”
My brother walked over. He wiped his hands on a bar towel and slung it over his shoulder. “What do you want now, Peaty?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll take another margarita, and Elijah here will have…” I looked over and waited for my best friend and work partner in crime to fill in the blank. But he was too busy drooling over Will. I shook my head. “He’ll have a margarita, too. But frosty ones this time, not on the rocks.”
“Frosty.” Will huffed. “Two pains in the asses coming right up.”
Elijah pushed up from his seat and leaned over the bar to watch Will walk away. “Are you sure he’s not gay?”
“He screwed half my female friends in high school, married his college sweetheart, and has a daughter.” I motioned toward my brother. “Besides, how can you even think that? He’s wearing a brown shirt, black pants, and green Crocs.”
Elijah’s nose wrinkled. “That is pretty bad. But I could overlook it with that jawline.”
I chuckled.
“Why does he call you Peaty, anyway?”
“Because he’s annoying. When I was little, I used to get really nervous when the teacher would call on me in class. I developed a habit of repeating the question back before answering, which somehow soothed me. Will and my other brother, Travis, found out and started calling me Repeat. It morphed into Peaty over the years.”
“Hot and funny. Exactly my type. What a shame.” Elijah scooped a few cashews from the small bowl on the bar and tossed one into the air, his mouth open. The nut smacked his cheek and fell to the floor.
“Do you think maybe we’re being pranked?” I motioned to the papers spread out on the bar—our last-minute assignment for this evening. “How can a bride really pick these dresses?”
“Dresses? What about the fascinators? We’re not in England, and this isn’t a garden wedding. I think maybe you’re right and someone is screwing with us.”
I looked at the time on my phone. “Damn. It’s already four. We have to get on the road soon or we’re going to be late. Tell Will I went to the back to change when he comes with our drinks. I’m going to pull a Superman in the supply closet. It’s bigger than the bathroom, and I don’t want to accidentally dip my dress in toilet water like I did last month.”
“Okay. But when it’s my turn to get dressed, don’t tell him I’m back there.” Elijah winked. “I want him to walk in on me naked.”
I slipped on one of the standard LBDs I always wore to the weddings we covered and paired it with sparkly silver stilettos. After, I fixed my makeup and sprayed my hair upside down in an attempt to give it some volume. When I came out, Elijah’s head was bent back in laughter, while Will stood on the other side of the bar with a devious smile.
This can’t be good. “Whatever he told you”—I tossed my duffle bag on the barstool—“it’s a complete lie. Don’t believe him.”
Elijah laughed. “So when you were seven, you didn’t give out wedding invitations to everyone you knew so they could come watch you marry the family dog? And the dog didn’t spend the entire ceremony trying to hump your back?”
I scowled at Will. “That only happened because this jerk pretended to wish me luck and rubbed peanut butter on the back of my dress. Buddy was obsessed with peanut butter. If someone opened a jar, he’d hump a couch pillow.”
Elijah continued to cackle. Too bad that incident hadn’t soured me on my obsession with weddings. It could have saved a lot of heartache, and maybe right now I’d be a real journalist instead of a writer for Bride magazine.
“Go get changed, Elijah.” I pointed to my brother. “And you, go back to being flattered by attention from seventeen-year-old girls who flirt with you so you’ll accept their cousin’s ID that says they’re twenty-nine.”
“Jeez,” Will said. “Someone’s cranky.”
“Cranky? Why would I be cranky? Because I’m going to yet another wedding I don’t feel like going to on a Saturday night?”
“You’re on your period, aren’t you?”
My eyes flared wide. “Go away, Will.”
My brother meant no harm. This was who we were—busting chops was our love language. But I was a little cranky this afternoon. Or maybe I’d been that way for the last six months. I used to love my job. Getting dressed up and going to extravagant weddings and writing about them for a living? Dishing out advice to my more than 1.5 million bride-to-be followers on social media? It was my dream job, one I’d wished for even before I was old enough to plan an elegant backyard wedding with two-year-old Buddy the dog. I’d been obsessed with weddings since I was a little girl. Maybe even addicted—wedding movies, wedding dresses, wedding venues—heck, I’d had the readings for my future ceremony picked out since I was ten. My parents lived a fairy-tale life, and I believed I would get my own happily ever after. I lived for it. Dumb. I know that now. But the day I’d gotten engaged had been the happiest day of my life. Then my big day came and … I was left standing alone at the altar. Jilted.