Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Wow, that’s wonderful. Think of all the lives your mom has impacted doing this.” I stared at the decorated ballroom. It looked like it was set up for the fanciest wedding reception I’d ever attended.
Rafe’s arm tightened in mine and he replied, “I do. I’ve thought about it more after what you said to me at lunch. She’s done a lot of good with her life.”
I beamed up at him, pleased that my opinion had opened his eyes to that fact. “Including being a good mom.” It was a guess, but I had a feeling I was right.
“She is a wonderful mom. She’d be the best mom if she hadn’t forced me to do this.” He gestured between us.
I laughed. “Of course. I almost forgot about that one little negative.”
Though it didn’t feel like a negative to me. While I was definitely out of my comfort zone with this group of guests, I’d never really minded being out of my comfort zone. I guess because I’d been thrown out of it so many times in my youth that I was used to it.
“You made it.”
We turned at the familiar voice. Jen Whitman hurried over to us, shimmering in a silver gown that had an elegant thirties vibe. Jen clasped Rafe’s cheek in her hand, adoration for her son beaming out of her. “You look so handsome. Thank you for coming. Your brother and sister couldn’t attend, so I appreciate you making the effort.”
“You look beautiful, Mom.” He kissed her cheek.
I melted a little.
Jen’s eyes glittered with emotion at her son’s sweet words before she turned to me, a friendly smile on her face. It did, however, lack the overt warmth of our first meeting. Guess I’d really messed up with my commitment-phobic comments. “Nice to see you, Star.” Her gaze flickered over my dress and I wasn’t sure she spoke the truth when she said, “You look lovely.”
“Thank you. And you really do look beautiful. So chic.”
Her expression softened at my sincerity. “Well, thank you. You’re very kind.” She looked up at Rafe. “Now I have lots to do, so I apologize if you see little of me this evening, but enjoy yourself.”
“Don’t worry about us. Go do your thing,” Rafe assured her.
“Wish me luck.” She hurried away in her high heels as if they were sneakers. How did she do that?
Thinking of her lukewarm reaction to me, I gave Rafe an apologetic look. “I’ll need to make it clear to her I’m committed to you or she’s going to foist other women on you again.”
“She’ll come around. Let’s find our table.” He placed his hand on my lower back to lead me across the room to the table chart, and I swear my butt tingled at his fingers’ proximity. My breath catching at the sensation, I tried to shake it off. You’d think a guy had never put his hand on my lower back before.
“Do you feel guilty?” I asked to distract myself.
“ ‘Guilty’?” Rafe frowned down at me.
“About . . .” I gestured between us, not wanting to say the words out loud in case someone heard us.
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “Us.”
“Yes.”
“Of course I do. I almost called you a million times to cancel this . . . but then Pippa sent another woman to my clinic this week as a setup and I was reminded why we’re doing this.”
Indignation flared through me. I’d known she’d tried to steer him to someone else after our dinner, but to try to set him up again when she knew he and I were dating? Well, fake-dating, but she didn’t know that! “Wow. She really doesn’t like me.”
I felt his gaze on my cheek, but I pretended to be focused on peering past another guest to look at the seating chart. “It doesn’t matter if she likes you. All that matters is she thinks I like you. A lot.”
Did that mean he didn’t like me? Not romantically. But not even in a platonic way? I knew I wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. No one could be. Yet . . . it was never nice to think someone didn’t like you. Even if I was determined to never try to make someone like me if they didn’t, I had to ignore a flare of hurt. I pointed to the chart. “Table four.”
“Sounds about right.” His hand pressed deeper into my back, and I followed his guide. People greeted him and he said hello, but he didn’t stop to chat, and by the curious looks sent my way, I was glad for it.
“Is it considered rude not to stop and chat?”
“Probably.” He held out my chair for me.
I snorted because he sounded like he could not care less, and I had to admit that I liked that about him.
We were the first people at the table. I stared at the opulent centerpiece of white lilies and roses. At the shiny, fancy silverware and gleaming white plates with silver edges. “I’ve never seen a table like this.”