Page 14 of The Bad Wedding Date

“Emmie…” I said, my smile rising as I stepped closer, ignoring the eight bridesmaids dressed in blush pink gowns around her. “Wow. You look…” I shook my head. “You look…”

“Lottie,” she croaked, tears forming in her eyes when she smiled. “What in thehellare you wearing?”

I glanced down at my dress. It was cream with the cutest peach and mint pastel flowers floating across it. The waist was cinched in with a matching material belt, and it stopped just above my knee.

“Is that ashawl?” Emmie asked with a raised brow. “My God, take it off. I can’t have my sister wearing a shawl to my wedding. This isn’t 1996.”

My mother fiddled with her earring and pursed her lips, looking up at the ceiling. I could practically hear her thoughts bouncing off her.You should have worn the lace dress I sent you, Lottie.

“I think you look beautiful, darling,” Dad said, speaking up in my defence, only for my mother to cut him a look that had him shuffling the knot of his tie and clearing his throat. “But perhaps you could lose the shawl for Emmie. Just for today.”

All eyes were on me, and I began to cower and shrink in on myself. God, I wanted to argue—to tell each and every one of them to get stuffed—but this was Emmie’s wedding day, and I’d promised them I’d be good. Despite me pretending to be a rebel, it was in moments like this that I realised what I really was.

A pushover.

“Yeah, okay,” I muttered.

Before I knew what was happening, my mother had tugged it away from me and was tossing it to The Savoy’s wedding coordinator like she was her very own maid for the day. She wasted no time fussing, pulling my dress down at the waist and pushing my boobs up for me to show some cleavage. My hair, which drove her insane with jealousy because of its natural caramel tones, was fiddled with until Mum stood back and inspected me, deep in thought.

“That will have to do.” She hummed. “The hair would look better down. Cover your ears up a bit.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” I said through gritted teeth, my fingernails no doubt leaving moon-shaped crescents in my fancy purse. I glanced at Emmie. “Congratulations, sis. You look beautiful today. Good luck with everything.”

Just because I didn’t want this to be my life, it didn’t mean I couldn’t respect that it was a dream for her. I was about to turn and leave them all to it when my mother pulled my attention her way again.

“We can’t wait to meet your date, Lottie,” Emmie called out. “Where is he? In the ballroom already?”

My cheeks flamed, all eyes on me again. “Erm… actually, about that. He couldn’t…”

“Don’t tell me you’re here on your own.” Emmie raised a brow.

I was mute, caught in the elite life of my family, and feeling like the pauper who couldn’t quite make it to the standard that was enough for them unless Ibecamethem.

“Was there ever even a date to begin with, darling?” Mum asked, projecting faux sympathy.

“Of course.”

“Then, where is he?”

“He’s just… he…”

“Baby! Hey, I’m back,” said a breathless voice to my right. I didn’t have time to register much, other than Fraser rushing to my side with his unbuttoned suit jacket flapping behind him, and his tight, white shirt stretching over obvious muscles.

Before I could even look up at his handsome face or feel relief, Fraser took me in his arms like a doll, and he dropped his plump, heavenly lips to my forehead, making me lean back in his hold to enjoy the utter bliss of that one point of connection between my skin and his.

He’d come back.

He was with me…

And he was currently kissing me on the forehead.

He was kissing me!

My body went rigid before he pulled away and dropped me back on my feet effortlessly, making me stagger and blink up at him.

“Sorry I disappeared for a minute. You know me. I get talking to strangers, and I just can’t seem to break away.”

For a girl with a smart mouth, I couldn’t think of a damn thing to say.

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