Page 21 of The Bad Wedding Date

I probably should have been offended, but the wine had kicked in, and everything that should have bothered me seemed to drift away while I got lost in pale grey eyes that held me captive.

“Anyway… forget the male escort thing. Maybe, if I’m charming enough tonight, I’ll convince you to go out with me for free next time. I’ll have you know that in normal social circumstances, I am ahoot,” I said.

I watched as his eyes searched mine, as though he was looking for something more within me—something that excited him. “Careful what you wish for. Not all company is good company.”

“It beats being alone.”

“Does it?”

I imagined the two of us in my bedroom, him towering over me. This big, strong man made of pure muscle and chivalry, who I’d somehow managed to convince to be here with me, and I now happened to be fantasising about.

Casting a glance over Fraser’s shoulder, I saw Tristan Neeson taking the microphone and getting ready to deliver his speech. I turned back to Fraser. “If I were alone, I’d have to listen to this bumbling idiot all by myself, but now I have you to keep me occupied.”

Fraser glanced over his shoulder at Tristan, and I followed his gaze, but when I did, the smile soon fell from my face because the mayor had his eyes locked on Fraser’s, and he wore an expression I’d never seen on Elliott Williamson’s face before.

That look could only be described as murderous.

His eyes were narrowed, his nostrils flared, and his jaw twitched, but Fraser didn’t seem to notice. When Fraser turned back to me, he wore the opposite expression, as though his life was full, happy, and exciting.

“Is this where we heckle?” Fraser asked.

I didn’t answer. I glanced over at the mayor again, seeing him swallow and raise his chin before he tugged on his dinner suit jacket as though trying to compose himself. His eyes drifted to Fraser one more time, and his skin paled before he looked up at Tristan and gave him his full attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you for the next speech, the groom’s best man, and from what I hear, comedian extraordinaire, Mr Tristan Alexander Neeson,” the master of ceremonies announced before the whole room rose in applause.

“Comedian extraordinaire?” Fraser smirked. “Really?”

I opened my mouth to speak, only to be cut off when I heard Tristan saying my name, and when I looked up, the entire room had turned my way.

What the hell had Tristan just said?

I found him at the end of the top table, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, only skinnier and a lot slimier, too. He lifted the microphone to his mouth again and winked. It was a wink that made most women swoon but made my skin ripple.

“Hey, sister of the bride. It’s so nice to see you here at probably the only wedding you’ll ever attend.” Tristan addressed the crowd, pointing his finger at me. “For those who don’t know the bride’s sister as well as the rest of us, here we have the youngest Grant of the family, and I think those of us who know her can agree that we’re surprised to see her here to celebrate with us since Charlotte has suffered allergies to love for the last twenty-four years of her life. She’s more of a funeral gal, aren’t you, Lottie?”

Chairs shifted, and bodies turned to get a better view. I may as well have been sitting in the pits of actual Hell, the heat rolled over my body like a dangerous fire that could only end in disaster.

“But don’t worry, baby Grant, we’ve made provisions for you during the planning of this thing. There are medics on standby if your cold little heart can’t handle the passion for just a few minutes.”

The room laughed quietly again, and I glanced around, seeing familiar faces alongside ones I didn’t know. Strangers poked fun at me without knowing anything about who I was or whether what he was saying was true, but they didn’t care. They were there for the laughs. For the entertainment.

“Or you could always step over here and accept that dance I once offered you,” Tristan said, pulling my attention back to him. “You never know, I might warm that heart of yours up a little and make you fall in love with the idea of romance, after all.”

This time, the people in the room laughed fully, leaving me to sit there with red cheeks and no words on my tongue. I had comebacks—plenty—but they would feed the guests’ image of me, just as I suspected Tristan had planned.

An out of body experience started to take a hold of me, bringing me under, when suddenly, someone took my hand in theirs and raised it to their mouth to kiss the back of it. I blinked and tried to regain clarity, only to see Fraser’s lips still lingering against my skin as he looked up at me through his lashes and held my gaze.

It was a gaze that saidI don’t know you, but I’ve got you, and in that moment, it was all I had to cling on to.

I don’t know you, but I’ve got you,his kiss told me again.

Swallowing, I looked up at Tristan, who was now scowling, despite his smile.

“Sorry, Best Man.” I shrugged. “Looks like someone beat you to it.”

I wasn’t sure if the laughs that followed were with me or against me, but I somehow blocked them out and looked back at Fraser, whose eyes still hadn’t left mine.

“Thank you,” I mouthed, only for him to wink in response.

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