Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Mine, I thought. Every imperfection. Every obstinate inch. And how freaking lucky was I that unlike any of the other weddings we’d attended together, this time I got to arrive on the arm of Oscar Overton, perpetual best man… and leave with him too?
“O-oscar,” I began. I was breathing too fast, and I knew it.
He glanced up at me. “Yeah, gorgeous?”
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t do it. Not now. Not yet. But tomorrow… yeah. Tomorrow, I was going to I love you this man so hard he’d never doubt it for an instant.
I forced a smile. “I’m ready when you are.”
21
OSCAR
It was New Year’s Eve, and I was panicking.
“Well, good, but there’s no rush. And not to be a stickler, gorgeous, but you’re not really ready when you don’t even have your bow tie on,” I pointed out while surreptitiously sliding Hugh’s bow tie into a drawer and shoving it under several bundles of socks.
Hugh blinked like he’d momentarily forgotten what a bow tie was, then immediately launched into action and began looking around frantically. “Oh, god, you’re right. Shoot, I just had it. Where could it have gone?”
“It’s fine. The ceremony isn’t until six,” I reminded him lazily. “Plenty of time to find it.”
Hugh glanced up from the open suitcase he was pawing through. “Babe, your mom wants you there at four for family pictures.”
“Surely they don’t need two hours for pictures.”
Hugh let out a laugh and moved the bed pillows out of the way to look under them. “It’s pretty standard, actually.”
“Pfft. Says who?” I took my time buttoning my shirt. Not only were the plastic buttons tiny, but the parts that required studs were damned near impossible.
“Says the professional wedding photographer.” He turned to me and frowned. “Since when do you not know how to work a tux? You’ve probably put this shirt on a hundred times in the past year alone.” He stepped forward and took over from my procrastinating fingertips.
“We can be late,” I suggested.
Hugh met my eyes in challenge. “You’re family. Hyacinth specifically told me she wanted a picture with her big brother.”
I sighed and closed my eyes in defeat, then tried a new angle, leaning in to sniff his neck. “Mmm. Fuck, you smell good. I think we have time for a quickie.”
He pressed a kiss to my cheek, lingering there for a few long beats. I drank in the warmth and familiar scent of him.
When he pulled back, his expression was one of enamored patience. “C’mon. Only one more wedding and you’ll be done for the year. You won’t have to go to any more until next year.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed his hands to put them back on my button job. “Cornball New Year’s jokes? I think we should go ahead and break up now to spare me the humiliation of being seen with you tonight.”
I’d meant it as a joke, but it fell flat and hard like a stack of newspapers dropped from a great height. My fears were like the pages scattering, half-torn, in every direction. I scrambled to grab them back. “Sorry. Sorry. Stupid joke.”
His expression softened. It was still full of enamored patience, but now it was tinged with pity. I wasn’t sure if it was pity for me or for himself. Either way, it grated.
“You’re right. We should go,” I said quickly, focusing on the stupid buttons and studs. My fingers accidentally scattered two of the studs on the lush bedroom carpet, and I dropped to my hands and knees to find them.
I could feel Hugh’s eyes on my ass before he spoke. “Maybe a quickie is a good idea after all,” he said with a teasing smile in his voice. “You make a compelling argument.”
My hands shook as I reached for one of the studs. There was no way I’d be able to get naked and vulnerable with him right now without revealing feelings I needed desperately to keep inside.
“No, you’re right. Family photos. I don’t want to let anyone down.” Hugh’s admonishment to me to let my family in, to accept their love, had hit me right in the gut. He was right… but then again, he usually was about things like family and love.
I’d tried to take his advice to heart and treat the Flower Family like, well, like my own.
It wasn’t easy. But I was making an effort.
I stood up and pulled the bow tie out of my drawer and handed it to him. He looked from the drawer to the tie and back to me but didn’t ask any questions. In fact, Hugh was surprisingly chill, considering tonight was our final night as boyfriends.
He was supposed to be the devastated one, and I was supposed to be the one who was fine with it, the one who would relish getting my solo status back.