Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
I meet his gaze and hold it. “The less Grandpère has control over, the better.”
“If he finds out, he’s going to be pissed.”
“Let him be angry.”
Jean’s knee jostles under the table and the cups rattle on their saucers. “It’s not just him getting mad. He’s not here forever, but if you give him reason to stick around, if you fucking provoke him—”
“Grandpère will leave when he realizes that everything here is under control. He’ll get bored and wander off like he always does. Right now, he’s flexing his muscles. You’re very right, this won’t be forever.”
“You’re making trouble for yourself. First the girl, and now this.” Jean’s ugly frown turns into a smile. “What was so wrong with the Collette girl, anyway?”
“She’s a self-absorbed asshole and you know it.”
“Hot though. At least from what I remember.”
I grunt at that. He’s not wrong, Collette is a beautiful woman, but my mind is firmly on Brianne.
We leave together and I make a phone call as we head over to the car. Jean gets behind the wheel and I stand outside, my light jacket pulled up to block the wind. Brianne answers on the third ring, her voice quiet.
“Why are you calling me?” she asks.
“Good to hear from you too, mon minou.”
“Seriously, you never call. Should I be worried?”
“That depends.” I smile to myself and picture her alone in her room. “What are you wearing?”
“Knock it off. What do you want?”
“We’re getting married in three days. I’ll pick you up at your house around ten in the morning.”
She doesn’t answer right away. I hear her breathing, so she hasn’t hung up, but she’s clearly processing. “Not my house. Pick me up outside Bloody Strike. The new location that just opened.”
I want to ask her why, but decide not to complicate things. “If that’s what you want.”
“What’s the dress code?”
“Wear whatever you want to get married in. We’re having a courthouse wedding.”
“Right. Okay.” She blows out a breath and laughs nervously. “I’m not going to have to kiss you, am I? Judges don’t do that, right?”
“I’ll make sure to tell this one to include it in the ceremony.”
“Wait, no, I mean, I don’t—”
“See you soon, my wife.” I hang up the phone before she can argue more. I’m smiling to myself, but it fades when I catch Jean shaking his head at me.
Chapter 10
Brianne
Istand outside Bloody Strike at ten in the morning on a Wednesday and feel totally out of place. The place is empty—thank God—but I’d be totally mortified if someone showed up right about now.
Still, it’s better than Julien coming to my house. That would just be unacceptable. I don’t need him to see how I live.
I fidget slightly, playing with the fabric of my white dress. It’s a simple knee-length cocktail piece with a conservative neckline and no sleeves, and I swear I tried on like fifty different outfits and changed my mind a dozen times before settling for this one. And now I’m not happy with it anymore.
Not that it matters. This wedding isn’t real. I mean, it’s real, but it isn’t like I’m going to stand up in front of everyone I know and say the vows to a man I actually care about. This is a courthouse quickie in front of a judge. It’s basically a business transaction.
A black BMW pulls up to the curb. I stare down at the tinted windows, stomach twisting into knots. The back door opens and Julien steps out, and I stare at him, my mouth opening slightly in surprise.
He’s impeccably groomed. His usual suit is sleek and black, but this time he’s got a thin, dark blue tie on, and his hair is perfectly manicured. He obviously put some time into his appearance, and it sends a ripple of anxiety and excitement down my spine, knowing he cares as much as I do.
“You look good,” he says, staring at me hard, and it starts to make me a little uncomfortable. His scrutiny is a little bit too intense.
“Uh, thanks. You do too.” I hesitate as he doesn’t move. “Should we get going?”
He offers me a hand. I accept it and he helps me into the car. A young man is driving, and he twists around to give me a friendly smile. “Lovely to see you again,” he says, nodding at Julien. “I’m shocked you’re still putting up with this asshole.”
“I’m on the fence how much longer I can suffer being around him.”
“Don’t start this,” Julien mutters.
Jean laughs and starts driving. “Trust me, I know what you mean. I’ve been putting up with him for most of my life. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”
“Since before Grandpère took me in,” Julien says, looking out the window. I can tell he doesn’t like this conversation by the tension in his shoulders.
“Back before he got all fancy. But it worked out for everyone, right? Now Julien’s got nice suits, an expensive car, and a beautiful young wife to call his own. That’s every man’s dream.”