Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Michaela ached deep inside. She wanted a man to kiss her like that—as if she meant everything to him, as if she was his entire world.
Exactly the way Troy had kissed her over and over again on their one and only night together.
Hugs and kisses went all around as the wedding party congratulated the newlyweds. Finally, they climbed down the steps and headed along the red carpet to the deck, where they were deluged by well-wishers. Troy held Michaela’s hand, not wanting to lose her in the crush.
Stepping into the aisle, Flo said, “Wasn’t that lovely?” She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief Walter Braedon had given her, while the man kept a proprietary hand on her back.
Troy remembered Michaela’s worry over her mother’s new relationship, but seeing the look of pure adoration in Walter’s eyes, Troy had no qualms at all.
He hoped to start that joint venture with Walter, using the new machine Troy and Matt Tremont had designed. But even more, he hoped for a personal venture—he and Michaela, Flo and Walter. A smile rose to his lips as he pondered a few double dates.
Michaela might shoot him if he said that aloud.
Flo wound her fingers around his arm. “Your brother was a fabulous officiant.”
“I swear to God,” Troy said, “he spent hours online figuring out how to make it happen. You’re looking at a Deputy Commissioner for a Day.” The story gave everyone a good laugh, but the truth was that Dane had been extremely honored.
Their little group waited to offer their good wishes. It wasn’t exactly a receiving line, more like a throng around the happy couple.
Troy still held Michaela’s hand, with no intention of letting go. Not now, not ever.
The wedding had been heartwarming, and for the first time in his life, he thought of being a groom and didn’t feel chills down his spine. Michaela Killian was funny, smart, driven, caring, and loyal. As gorgeous as she was, that was her least important attribute, because on the inside, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. He didn’t just want her, he loved her. Sitting next to her during that wedding, he’d felt it with every fiber, every cell, every muscle and nerve in his entire body.
He was made for her. And she was made for him.
Now he needed her to see that.
Fernsby stood a short distance away from the crowd around the newlyweds. It was beneath him to wait in that madhouse. He would congratulate the ecstatic couple when the furor died down.
Right now, though, it was not the newlyweds who held his attention, but Troy and the lovely Michaela.
Of course, he’d engineered the entire love affair when he’d sent them off to have dinner all alone on that most miraculous night—the night Mathilda had signed his book. As he pondered what she’d written—those incredible words—he felt movement by his side, a rush of air, a wisp of perfume.
Looking down, he found Gabrielle beside him. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Remember how Troy always said he came stag to weddings so no one got ideas?” She, too, eyed Troy and Michaela. “He’s definitely not going stag now.” Gazing pointedly at Michaela’s hand in Troy’s, she nudged Fernsby. “He’s never held a woman’s hand at any event I’ve ever attended with him.”
Fernsby smiled. He even let it broaden, since Gabrielle was concentrating on her brother. “I do believe the likelihood that you’ll win this bet is one hundred percent.”
Gabrielle flashed him a grin. “I knew it all along.”
Looking down at her once more, Fernsby allowed her to see that rictus of a grin on his lips. “That just leaves you, my dear.”
Her mouth fell open.
He tapped his finger under her chin. “You’re catching flies, Gabrielle.”
With something that could have been a squeak, she ran into the crowd around the newlyweds.
He said very softly, though no one could hear, “You can run, but you can’t hide.” Then he put his hand to his chest. “Because I am Fernsby. And I will find the perfect match for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You’ve outdone yourself with this menu,” Troy said as he relished a teriyaki pineapple meatball.
Walter grinned broadly. “It was all Noble’s doing.” He pointed to his handsome son walking among the tables, checking that everyone was enjoying the buffet.
Michaela agreed that the spread was delicious, like a Hawaiian luau, with a pig that had been slow roasted over hot coals for twenty-four hours.
But even as Michaela enjoyed the food, she couldn’t help glancing at her mother, seated next to Walter. She’d never seen Flo happier. Her mother seemed to glow. And she deserved this happiness. Michaela wouldn’t stick her nose in her mother’s joy, not even one more time. No more dire warnings, no further attempts to tamp down her elation in case things didn’t work out.