Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
My sister stood with Nuala, Derek and Tristan Balfe, the three siblings chatting amiably with one another while a young dark-haired girl, who I presumed was Derek’s daughter, Gigi, clung to her Aunt Nuala’s side. Derek looked much better than he had yesterday, even if the dark circles under his eyes remained.
“Hello, everyone,” I greeted. “Might I introduce you to my lovely girlfriend, Ada.” It struck me that this was the first time I’d referred to her as such, and her eyes lit up a little when our gazes met. She arched an eyebrow in amusement, mouthing a questioning Girlfriend? and I suspected I was going to receive some ribbing from her about it later.
Also, girlfriend sounded too casual, juvenile almost, to describe the sheer depth of the connection Ada and I shared.
“Ada, so lovely to see you again,” Maggie said, coming to give her a hug. “You look gorgeous.”
“So do you,” Ada replied.
“This is my friend, Nuala,” Maggie went on, introducing everyone. “And her niece, Gigi.” Nuala cast Ada a friendly smile but seemed to avoid looking in my direction. “And Nuala’s brothers, Derek and Tristan.”
“Nice to meet you all,” Ada said while Derek shot me a grateful look, a silent thanks for pulling him out of his drunken state last night.
“Right, we better get going,” Tristan said, and we all began the short walk to the church.
Once there, Ada and I sat a couple pews behind Maggie and the rest of them. Derek’s daughter remained next to her aunt, and though it was clear the girl was a little withdrawn, Nuala seemed to have a way of drawing smiles out of her. Speaking of Nuala, I didn’t fail to notice her frosty demeanour towards me outside the hotel. A few months ago, at Maggie and Shay’s wedding, Nuala had drunkenly made a pass at me, and I’d turned her down. Ever since then, she tended to ignore my existence if we crossed paths, which happened on occasion since she and Maggie were good friends.
“Okay,” Ada whispered as we sat in a pew waiting for the ceremony to begin. “What did you do to the blonde? Is she a disgruntled ex-employee of yours or something?”
I was impressed by her observational skills. “Not an employee,” I replied quietly. “She came onto me while drunk at Maggie and Shay’s wedding, but I turned her down.”
Ada’s eyes flared. “You turned her down? But … she’s gorgeous?”
I smirked at how that last bit came out as a confused question. “Earlier you claimed to be jealous of the thought of any female employees making a pass at me, but now you’re shocked and appalled I didn’t sleep with someone?”
“Well, this happened before we met. Besides, she looks like a mix between Saoirse Ronan and Emma Watson. I mean, I’m a straight woman, and even I’d be tempted,” she joked lightly, and I held her gaze pointedly.
“I don’t sleep with drunk women. And sadly, neither Saoirse Ronan nor Emma Watson is my type.” I leaned closer to whisper my lips across her cheeks. “I prefer darker hair, eyes as transfixing as the night sky and curves like—” She shivered, distracting me from what I was saying. “Cold?”
“You know I’m not,” she replied softly, those bottomless dark eyes meeting mine. I enjoyed the idea of my words causing such a visceral effect.
“I can’t wait to get you back into bed,” I murmured quietly and slid my hand down to interlink our fingers, resting our joined hands on my lap just as the ceremony began. A pianist and cellist played Canon in D just as Charli appeared at end of the aisle, arm in arm with her Uncle Padraig who had been bestowed the honour of giving her away. Rhys stood by the alter with Shay at his side, and his expression morphed into one of pure love and awe when he laid eyes on his bride. Ada squeezed my hand, and I glanced at her, seeing she was misty eyed. My heart swelled as a tender smile shaped my mouth. I leaned close to whisper in her ear, “Why are you crying? You don’t even know them.” I swear I couldn’t have adored her more than at that moment.
“This part of weddings always gets to me. There’s just something about the look on the groom’s face,” she replied, and I squeezed her hand in return. A small smile shaped her lips. “Or maybe it’s just the music that triggers me,” she went on.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered, lifting our hands and pressing a kiss to the pulse point on the inside of her wrist before lowering them back down. She seemed to blossom under the compliment, and I found myself imagining a future where I was the one standing at the altar and Ada was making her way up the aisle. It jarred me how much I wanted that. We’d only been together a couple of weeks, but I’d never been so sure of someone, nor had I ever been in love like I was in love with Ada. The knowledge ate at me, the words pushing to be said, but I knew it was far too soon.