Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
I rub a hand over the back of my neck. I feel faint. I know it’s anxiety, but I need to rid myself of this dress before I blackout. “Can you unzip my dress?”
I turn so my back is facing the stranger. He offers nothing but a series of questions. “You’re going to undress? Here? Now?”
“It’s too tight.” I wave a hand in the air over my shoulder. “Unzip it. I need to breathe.”
The driver’s phone starts ringing.
“Albert Neal,” he mutters under his breath. “Who the hell is Albert Neal?”
“Don’t answer that,” I blurt out. “Please don’t answer it. They’re looking for me.”
“You know Albert Neal?” He quizzes my reflection in the rearview mirror.
“He’s my dad.” I fall back on the seat, realizing that the stranger isn’t going to unzip me.
I take a series of steady deep breaths to calm myself down.
“Where are we headed?” The driver catches my eye again in the mirror. “I heard someone say Brooklyn.”
“No.” The stranger shakes his head. “Her name is Brooklyn. I need to go to this church to stop her wedding.”
He turns his phone, so the screen is facing the driver.
I catch the roll of the driver’s eyes. “Read the address to me, pal. I have to keep my baby blues on the road.”
“Right.” The stranger nods.
He calls out an address just a few blocks from where we are.
I want out of this car and away from these two, but that’s not going to happen until we drop this guy off at the right church. Then, I can figure out where the hell I’m going.
If I rush home, everyone will be waiting for me.
I have a few friends who might be willing to take me in for the night, but they were at my wedding. They’ll have a million questions about what I just did, and besides, I don’t have a way to reach them.
My phone is back at the church.
Memorizing numbers has never been my strong suit. The only phone number I know off by heart is Joel’s.
“I’m Luke.”
I turn at the sound of the stranger’s deep voice. He’s not attempting a smile. There’s no joy in his voice.
I see panic in his expression.
“I’m Afton.”
“Afton Neal?”
I nod. “You heard the driver ask about my dad.”
“Yeah,” he acknowledges with a curt nod. “I’m so fucking sorry that I messed up your wedding.”
Shaking my head, I manage a small smile. “I did that.”
He gazes at the skirt of my dress. “I thought I was in the right place when I objected.”
“I was in the wrong place when you objected,” I admit.
“The church you’re looking for is up ahead,” the driver announces as we turn a corner.
Grabbing the back of the front passenger seat with one hand, Luke slides his ass forward. His gaze is focused on the street ahead.
“I hope you get there in time,” I say softly.
His blue eyes latch onto my face. “Me too.”
As the driver steers the car closer to the curb, Luke attempts to open the limo’s door.
“Hey, big fella.” The driver laughs lightly. “Give me a minute to stop.”
Luke does, but as soon as the car is in park, he’s out the door, headed up the church steps two at a time before he disappears from view behind a wooden door etched with carvings.
Chapter 4
Afton
I attempt to climb out of the limo, dragging the short train of my dress behind me. Just as I’m about to topple onto the sidewalk, two large hands grab hold of my biceps, pulling me to my feet.
I look up and into Luke’s face.
“What are you doing?” I question as my gaze darts to the church behind him. “Did you stop Brooklyn’s wedding?”
I see the answer in his eyes before he opens his mouth. “No. It’s over.”
“Did you at least talk to her?”
He lets go of me to scrub one hand over the back of his neck. “The caretaker said everyone cleared out two hours ago. I even fucked up the time.”
I’m rarely at a loss for words, but I’ve got nothing to offer him except my hand. I dart that out when he stumbles forward half a step.
I grab hold of his forearm. “Did you eat anything today?”
His head shakes from side to side as his hand falls to his stomach. “I had some whiskey. Last night I think, or this morning. I didn’t sleep.”
“You need food.” I sigh, wanting to add that I have to find a place to crash for the night.
My problems don’t trump his, though.
I can’t leave him standing here alone.
As soon as Luke sprinted up the concrete steps to the church, the limo driver got a call from his boss demanding to know where he was.
He tossed me a sympathetic look as he lied and said he was across town.
Once the call ended, the driver admitted that he had to get the limo back to the warehouse where it’s stored.