Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 104458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
The guy was much too dangerous for her baby sister. He was also sickeningly good looking, which meant she automatically distrusted him. Guys like him toyed with women, they never settled down, and Daff was terrified that Daisy was in way over her head, that she would fall for him—if she hadn’t already—and get her heart broken.
More and more people were starting to head to the dance floor, and a lot of the older people—her parents and aunts included—were leaving. Daff had another drink and kicked herself for not bringing a date. She hadn’t wanted to be saddled with one of her many loser guys for an entire weekend. Her options for a decent date were severely limited. Her ex-boyfriends had all been dumb, good-looking assholes—kind of like Spencer Carlisle—and any guy she carted along to the wedding would have expected more than she was willing to give. She was so sick of the lot of them, of the boring sex, the meaningless conversations, the casual disregard. She’d sworn off men for a while and she wasn’t going to break her fast just for Lia’s wedding. Especially not when her sister was marrying yet another worthless jerk.
Daff had a reliable bullshit radar, and she was usually really good at picking the assholes apart from the good guys. It was a useful skill to have, just a shame she wasn’t ever attracted to the good guys. Clayton Edmonton III was a definite asshole. In fact, he was a rare breed, a kind of hybrid douche hole. She didn’t know why she disliked him; she only knew that she did, and her instincts were usually spot on. But talking to Lia about it was nearly impossible. She cast a discreet glare toward her middle sister, but Lia was listening to Clayton blow hard about something. She looked perfectly miserable, and Daff knew she was going to have to talk with her sister tomorrow. Try to get through to her one last time. If this was how she looked two days before her wedding, how happy could she expect to be in the years to come?
Mason Carlisle was harder to read than most men. At times he seemed like a stand-up guy, and on other occasions he set off her asshole alert so loudly that it nearly deafened her. And Daff trusted her instincts; they hadn’t let her down yet. Daisy thought she had it all under control, but Daff knew it was a train wreck waiting to happen. The only problem was, her youngest sister had a stubborn streak a mile wide, and she only grew more intractable when she felt like she was being pushed into doing something she didn’t want to do.
It wasn’t easy being the oldest, Daff thought, starting to wallow in a well of self-pity. She got up, swayed a bit—stupid four-inch stilettos—and wobbled toward the exit. The waitstaff was taking much too long to bring her drinks, best to find the hotel bar. Thankfully Lia didn’t notice her leave; her sister could be more preachy than Auntie Ivy sometimes, and it was tiresome.
When she found a quiet spot, she leaned against a wall for balance—how much whiskey was in those sours anyway?—and fished her phone out of her suddenly cavernous clutch.
She closed an eye to focus a little better before finding the number she was looking for. There it was, excellent! It rang and rang and rang and . . .
“Hello?” The deep male voice on the other end sent a thrilling little shiver down her spine.
“You’re such a prick, you know?”
“Daff?”
“You know my voice,” she purred happily.
“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you’re an a-a-asshole.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Yesh! No. Wait. Don’t change the subject.” Pesky man.
“Okay.” He was starting to sound amused. “You were saying I’m an asshole. What did I do to earn this label?”
“You hurt my sister.”
“Lia?”
“No, I have two sisters, you dick! And that’s your problem; you don’t see her or treat her with respect. I hate that about you.”
“This is about Daisy?” His voice had gone flat, all amusement gone.
“So you do know her name?” She was proud of the sarcasm laced through that question.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but . . .”
“I heard . . .” She lost her balance and fought to right herself with as much dignity as she could. Thank goodness he couldn’t see her. “I heard that you thought it would be a good idea to use your jerk brother to seduce my sister while you tried to chat me up.”
“I didn’t ask him to seduce her,” he protested indignantly. “Just distract her a little, pay her some attention. I didn’t think it would do any harm.”
“How did you expect her to feel when she found out?”
“She wasn’t supposed to find out,” he gritted out.
“But she did.”