Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
That tickled her so much, she laughed in delight. Her eyes moved over me, dimples popping. My tuxedo is bland compared to her dress, but her compliment was sincere. “You’re more handsome than ever.”
Be still my fucking heart. I don’t know that I’ve ever had a woman call me handsome before. I mean, I’ve been called hot, and an animal in bed, and probably a lot of other dirty names, but there was something so earnest about the word handsome coming from her mouth that I had the insane urge to preen.
Jesus… what is this woman doing to me?
Even now as I watch her admire the twinkling lights, I notice more details that had escaped me. Her makeup is impeccably done, emphasizing her natural beauty without being overbearing. I’ve not seen her wear much more than maybe some mascara or lip gloss, so her smoky eyes and long lashes make her eyes more than just beautiful.
They’re hypnotizing, and when she periodically turns them to me to make a comment or ask a question, I feel like I’m in danger of losing my ability to speak.
“Wow,” Tempe breathes as her eyes land on a white Christmas tree tucked into a corner, sparkling as if encrusted with a million diamonds. Her hand has been tucked into the crook of my elbow since we arrived and we’ve settled into a corner between two poinsettia beds.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I say, squeezing her hand gently. The warmth from her touch is reassuring, because no matter how magical the moment right now, we’re still attempting to maintain a ploy to convince Tansy that I’m fully taken by this woman.
Moving through the crowd, I see my buds approaching, intent on circling the wagons around me and Tempe. Partly to insulate us from prying questions that might come from teammates surprised to see me with a date, and partly to lend credibility to Tansy that Tempe is known and accepted by other team members.
So far, I haven’t seen the infuriating woman, but I know she’ll be here since she’s in the upper executive level of management.
Atlas reaches us first, shakes my hand, and then gives Tempe an appraising look. “Hey, Tempe. You look beautiful.”
North leans in and gives her a peck on the cheek and I’m sure it’s a calculated move in case Tansy is lurking somewhere watching. “You’re the prettiest fake girlfriend Rafferty has ever had.”
Tempe laughs and then her gaze moves to King and Foster, both of whom have significant others on their arms. I take a moment to introduce her to Willa and Mazzy, two women I’ve gotten to know pretty well over the last two months.
Mazzy smiles warmly at Tempe. “Foster filled me in, and just know Willa and I got your back.”
“You mean my back, right?” I say teasingly.
Willa rolls her eyes, giving me a playful punch. “Your back is covered by the guys. We’ve got Tempe’s and if that psycho woman bothers her, we’ll make sure she regrets it.”
I blink in surprise at the vehemence in her voice as King chuckles. “That’s my girl.”
Music from a string quartet starts, a signal I’m assuming that the ceremony will begin soon. More guests filter in through a set of wrought iron gates, crowding into the spaces and paths in between the beds but leaving open one particular walkway bordered by white velvet ropes to a small dais in the very center. It has a white lattice archway covered with hundreds of white flowers in what might be a dozen different varieties that I can’t identify, other than some white roses.
The chatter dies down and then goes utterly silent as all heads turn toward a side door through which the minister appears. Behind him comes Stone, accompanied by our assistant coach, Gage Heyward, as his best man. They’re part of what us newer players call the “old guard”—the main group of Titans who came together to rebuild the team after the crash.
Stone’s brother, Brooks, was a Titans player and was on the plane when it went down. Stone met his soon-to-be wife, Harlow, when he took his place on the new team as she was best friends with Brooks. Stone bonded with Gage, who played one year with the Titans before moving into coaching, so it’s no surprise he’s Stone’s best man.
Stone stands at the front, looking coolly confident in his sleek black tuxedo. He exchanges words with Gage, who laughs in response.
And then the music morphs into the “Wedding March” and the wrought iron gates at the rear swing open. Harlow stands there flanked by both her mom and dad. She has no maid or matron of honor, just her parents giving her away, which I think is a very sweet touch.
A collective sigh rises from Tempe, Willa and Mazzy, and I can’t blame them. Harlow is a vision in a sleek, fitted white dress designed to flatter her figure. The bodice is covered in lace floral patterns and pearls and her vivid red hair is in a romantic tumble of waves down past her shoulders, enhancing her pale skin. She wears no veil or tiara, but rather two butterfly-shaped pearl clips to hold her hair back from her face. I glance over at Stone who looks like he just got clobbered over the head with a mallet, he’s so boggled by her beauty.