Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I frown. “You’re a much nicer person than I am.”
“Not even close,” he says, before adding in a softer voice, “If they hadn’t been banging behind my back, I might never have ended up with you or as happy as I am right now.”
Heart flipping, I lean closer to his side, loving the way his hand lingers at the small of my back, as if his well-being depends on touching me at all times. “I’m happy, too. I can’t wait to tear up the dance floor with you.”
He tugs at his bow tie with his free hand. “I’m going to need at least one glass of champagne first. I know way too many people here to dance like nobody’s watching without something to lower my inhibitions.”
Grinning, I murmur, “Good, I like you with lowered inhibitions. That’ll make it easier for me to have my way with you in the stables before they cut the cake.”
He frowns, but his voice is huskier as he whispers, “I’m not having sex with you in the stables at my ex’s wedding.”
“Too scandalous?” I ask.
“Too many cameras,” he says. “I checked. The entire property is under surveillance. There is, however, a private family bathroom not far from the parking area that doesn’t appear to be monitored.”
“If we get caught banging in a bathroom, Christian and Starling will never let us hear the end of it.”
“We won’t get caught,” he says with a burning glance my way that makes my entire body tingle. “We’re professionals.”
I giggle. “Are we?”
Before he can answer, a squeaky voice bleats from my left, “Wren! I didn’t know you were going to be here! How are you sweetheart?”
I turn to see my mom’s ancient, but very sweet friend, Patrice, blinking up at me through her inch-thick glasses.
“Hey there, Pat,” I say. “I’m great. How are you?”
“Oh, I can’t complain,” Pat says, before heaving a sigh and beginning to do just that, “Though with Harry struggling with his gout and my lingering issues from the Lyme disease, we haven’t been able to be as busy this spring as we’d like. We didn’t get any baby chicks this year and he’s thinking of selling our breeding does. People just don’t eat rabbit the way they used to.” She reaches out, gripping my arm tightly. “Speaking of eating, could you help me to my seat, sweetie? I put on my old glasses by accident and can’t see so good. I wouldn’t want to accidentally sit down at the wrong table.”
Barrett touches a gentle hand to my elbow. “I’ll get us champagne and meet you by the ice sculpture?”
“Sounds perfect,” I say, smiling up at him before turning back to Patrice. “And, of course, Pat. I’ll get you settled, then grab you whatever you want to drink.”
“Well, I want whiskey,” she says, chuckling. “But I should probably stick with coffee if I want to stay awake for cake. Cake is always my favorite part of a wedding. And Lane’s mother said this one is chocolate with coffee icing. Doesn’t that sound delicious?”
Agreeing that it does, I blow Barrett a kiss and lead Patrice into the tent. We circle around the edge of the cluster of circular tables, finding hers pretty quickly. She’s seated with several other older ladies, two of whom are already settled in and deep into dishing on all the attendees by the time we arrive.
They pause in spilling the tea to give me their drink orders—two coffees and a spiked cider—and I hustle over to the hot drink station to oblige them. It takes a few minutes to get through the line and a few more to figure out how to juggle all three mugs at once, but I make it back to the women before they’ve had time to decide if Mary Anne Killarney’s red dress is a do or a don’t with her fiery orange hair, and excuse myself with smile and a wave.
I’m positive the ladies are going to gossip about Barrett and me as soon as I’m out of earshot, but I don’t care. Let them say whatever they want to say, let them approve or disapprove. I’m too happy to be bothered with what other people think about me dating my boss or moving in with him after only two weeks.
Being with Barrett is even better than I imagined it would be, and I’m so glad we found our way to each other before it was too late. He’s just…my person, the one I want to spend every spare minute with, the one I want to daydream about the future with, the one I can’t wait to crawl into bed with later tonight.
Though that bathroom quickie plan doesn’t sound half bad…
I head to the ice sculpture beside the dance floor, marveling at the amount of chilled vodka emerging from the swan’s arched throat. Lane and Grant spared no expense on this celebration. From the open bar, appetizer buffet, and steak or seafood dinner to be served in about an hour, everyone will be leaving well-fed and liquored.