Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
“You look gorgeous. I know you were trying really hard not to steal the show, but you do that just by existing. You’re the most beautiful woman here.”
“Okay, you’ve had your chance.” Pearl’s grandma, I think it’s the one she was named after, elbows me aside. She’s all of five feet tall and has a head of pure white curls. Her eyes snap with life, and I can just tell she was a real spitfire back in her day. She probably still is. I’ve never seen an old lady who looked like she was considering kicking my ass and offering me freshly baked cookies at the same time.
“I’ll get the mess dealt with,” I promise Pearl before moving off down the line. There is indeed quite a gap between Fred and me, and my cheeks heat up when I notice. Maybe I was lingering overly long. It’s not like I could help myself. Pearl is indeed a showstopper. No faking anything there.
As I quickly make my way down the line, shaking hands fast and making a break for the house after, where I can hopefully find some paper towels, or just a towel or something, I hear Pearl’s other granny tittering to her husband again about ‘eager young bucks, and remember when…’
I tune the rest of it out even though I’m sure it’s a joke, and then I make a break for the safety of the house. It’s still quiet inside here as everyone is outside, at least for the moment. The first thing I spot is a roll of paper towel perched on the counter. I make a mad grab for it and walk around opening cupboards until I find a stash of trash bags under the sink.
Yes, I’m going to clean up the barf. And no, I’m not going to enjoy it.
At least I’ll focus on that, though, and not the weird tingling and tightening that goes on in my chest every single time I even think about Pearl. I’m not so sure this is fake anymore, which is bad news for me, because she still doesn’t know who I am. Or at least that I’m rich. I can’t change that. I can’t change the fact that I need to cover my own ass. I can’t change that I can’t exactly take chances without a lot of shit going straight down the drain and a lot of people suffering for my carelessness. I can’t change any of it, but Pearl kind of makes me wish I could. No, not kind of.
There isn’t any kind of about it.
CHAPTER 14
Pearl
Phew. So, puking disaster aside, we’re at the point of the night where the wedding party finally gets its freedom. The dinner is done, speeches are over, the cake is cut, first dances are out of the way, and I can finally escape from the head table and go back to just blending in with the rest of the crowd. I carefully held off drinking until I was done with my speech since alcohol caused enough disasters in the wedding for one day, but now I’m slipping away from the table, picking my way through the throngs of people in the hall—which isn’t that big, so it’s pretty crowded—trying to make my way to the round table off to the side where my mom, dad, both sets of grandparents, and Gabriel were seated.
I want to make sure he’s okay. I haven’t really had a decent chance to talk to him since the receiving line this morning when he hugged me and somehow made my world implode and explode at the same time. I was pretty much useless in the line after that. Just a bag of gooey jelly that somehow managed to stay standing, mechanically smiling and shaking people’s hands while all the while, I was buzzing on the inside, thinking about Gabriel’s woodsy, manly scent and the feel of his lips whispering over my ear.
He sounded pretty serious when he told me I was beautiful. Like he really meant it and felt something behind it.
The sensation has stayed with me all day.
Thankfully, Gabriel hasn’t escaped yet. He’s sitting at the table, sandwiched between my two grandmas. I scan the area, spot Dean, who flashes me a thumbs-up sign before hurrying off towards the bar, which is really just the kitchen counter window thing where some brave volunteers are pouring booze like there’s going to be another prohibition era and everyone needs to drink their fill now.
I edge a little closer to the table so that I can hear what Gabriel is saying. Both my grandmas are hanging on his every word. Or maybe they just like the smell of him too, and leaning in lets them get just a little bit more of it. Yeah, Gabriel’s scent is that good. I want another lungful too. I’ve been secretly plotting how to get close to him all day while I smiled for pictures, ate dinner, and made toasts to my sister. I was thinking about him. The. Whole. Freaking. Time.