Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
“It’s smart,” I said, tapping my fingers against my leg. “And you’re lucky I didn’t know what dress to bring for the wedding and brought four.”
“Yes. I really do need to work on my communication, don’t I?”
“Mhmm. It’s lacking. Severely.”
“Understood.” He paused. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Mind what? Going for dinner, or you not telling me anything, ever?”
He pressed his lips together and slowly nodded. “That’s fair.”
“Don’t mind the first, bit of an issue with the second.”
“Yep. That’s what I expected you to say.”
I leant back in my seat, laughing quietly. “It’s not the end of the world. A surprise dinner date isn’t as bad as finding out your grandparents are the Duke and Duchess of Glenroch.”
“I realise that,” he said, pulling up at a red light and glancing at me. “You’re taking it all rather well.”
Well, kinda used to the titles thing, to be honest.
“I’m relatively easy-going.” I scratched behind my ear. “Besides, it’s only a few days. There’s not a lot that can go wrong, is there?”
“You’ve said that, now. You’ve cursed it.”
“No, it’ll be fine. Where are we going for dinner?”
He looked surprised I’d asked. “There’s this great family-run place in Duncree—somewhere between a Michelin-starred place and a country pub.”
“What on Earth kind of description is that?”
“I don’t know. That’s what the owners always tell you.” He drew in a deep breath. “Oh, okay, so in the interest of communication…”
“What else don’t I know? You don’t have a secret lovechild somewhere up here, do you?”
“If I do, it’s a secret to me, too,” he quipped. “My grandfather holds a few titles.” Each word was said slowly and carefully.
I sighed. “Which one do you use?”
“How do you know that?”
“Know what?”
“That I use a courtesy title from my grandfather.”
I didn’t.
It was a lucky guess.
Not all grandsons did.
I waved a hand. “Just assume that, at this point, I already know everything you’re going to tell me.”
He shook his head, slowly releasing a breath. “Viscount Kinkirk. A lot of the older people in Duncree are descended from the clan the first duke was chief of, and they’re very proud of it. They respect my grandfather a lot, and because of that, they always address me properly.”
“I thought you said they wouldn’t like a mostly English duke.”
“I’m not the duke, though. I’m just borrowing Grandpa’s Viscount title, even though grandchildren don’t always have one.” He glanced at me. “So when they start calling me Lord Kinkirk, don’t freak out.”
“It’ll be fine. Look at that—you finally told me something before it happened.”
“I’m never going to live this down, am I?”
“No but be grateful I’m just your fake girlfriend and not your real one, or you’d really be in trouble.”
He made a weird rumbling noise that was either out of fear or agreement or a mix of both.
Or it was just his stomach.
Will drove down a high street that looked like it would be on a Christmas card if it were covered in a thicker layer of snow and turned left at the end onto a smaller street. At the very end of that street, he turned right into a small carpark and pulled into a space.
“Here we go,” he said. “The restaurant is just on the other side of the carpark.”
“Do you need a ticket on it?”
He shook his head. “Only in the high season. Between October and April, it’s free to park.”
“Must be nice.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He chuckled and got out, then walked around the car and opened my door for me before I’d even untangled my foot from the strap of my bag.
“What’s this? A reputation to keep up for the dashing Viscount Kinkirk?”
He took a deep breath that made his shoulders heave and huffed it back out, and they dropped with vigour. “I am regretting everything about asking you to come with me.”
“No, you’re not.” I got out of the car and was standing right in front of him when I said, “Admit it. You’re having far too much fun with me around.”
“Fun is a strong word.” His lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, and his gaze caught mine. “Don’t get cocky, Grace.”
Laughing, I stepped aside so he could close the door, then accepted the arm he offered me. “I don’t need to be cocky. I can tell you’re having the time of your life.”
“You know, saying, ‘I don’t need to be cocky’ is far more effective when not followed up with another cocky statement,” Will pointed out. “Carry on, and I’ve half a mind to make you pay for your own dinner.”
“You wouldn’t let me pay for a cup of coffee the first time we met,” I reminded him. “Do you think for a second I believe that you’d make me pay for my own dinner?”
“I might.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll pay for my own dinner.”
“Just yours?”
“Would you ever let me buy you dinner?”