Page 27 of The Bad Wedding Date

His half-smile rose, and he held my gaze. “I can’t make any promises.” But the only thing I could ever imagine this man taking from a woman without her consent was her lust-filled, Fraser-inspired, mushy heart.

I blew out a breath and looked around, already strung out. I caught sight of Penn across the room talking to another woman who was as tall as him, wearing a long, gold sequinned gown that hugged her in all the right places. Penn turned to catch me staring, and he raised his glass of champagne in my direction before he tipped his head.

I looked away quickly, only to see Fraser’s gaze lingering on Penn.

“Friend of yours?”

“I’m going to need more alcohol if we’re having that conversation.”

“More drinks it is.”

We ordered from the bar and then made our way to a small table at the back of the room. It gave us a full view of everybody. Once we were seated, Fraser brought his pint of beer to his lips and eyed me, waiting for me to go on.

“His name is Penn Ridgley,” I started. “The one and only ex-boyfriend I have in existence. Bane of my life. Biggest regret. Harshest critic. Rogue and a cheat. His name would be in lights if his reputation wasn’t so bad, and I hate the fact that I wasted two years on London’s worst breed of man because it made everyone else happy but me. He thinks he’s a gent. I think he’s a rat, and that about sums it up.”

“And the little girl by his side?”

“His daughter, apparently. I just found out myself. If any of my family knew, they wouldn't have bothered to tell me. And no, I’ve zero clue who the mother is.”

“I think the sequin-clad beauty currently sucking his face off might have something to do with it.”

Fraser was right. The stunning woman in gold was pressed up against him, her smile ridiculous as they held each other close while the little girl begged for their attention beside them, tugging on the lady’s dress. It reminded me of my parents with me when I’d been that age.

“What bothers me is that men like him are allowed to procreate when there are good people out there unable to,” I admitted bitterly.

Fraser dropped his arms to the table, his eyes holding me captive. “Do you believe that bad people have any good in them, or do you write off anyone who dares to mess up even once?”

I thought about that for a moment. Did I think bad people could have good in them? One glance around the room would tell me that was true. This place was filled with people who weren’t exactly bad but weren’t pure-hearted, either. Selfishness and greed tainted the air, making them think that their existences were the only ones to matter. The people here didn’t care about the poverty infecting the streets just beyond these walls. They didn’t care that elderly couples sat in care homes all day long, staring at magnolia walls, and that those elderly couples had been the very people to fight for this lots’ freedom and entitlement. But did that make them bad or simply ignorant?

“I don’t have any issue with good people doing bad things, Fraser. I have an issue with bad people pretending they’re good.”

“Like Penn?”

“For starters.”

“He cheated on you?”

“He did me a favour.”

“So, bad acts can work out for the best in the end?”

I scowled at him. “You’re playing with me.”

“Perhaps.”

“Boy, I bet you wish you’d caught the later bus, don’t you?” I said with a quiet yet forced laugh. “Is this really worth a hundred an hour?”

“Maybe I’m not doing this for your money anymore.”

When I looked up, Fraser’s gaze was holding mine, and I melted beneath it, too strung up on this day to care if he knew Mayor Williamson or not. Too strung up to care about the consequences of tomorrow when a man like Fraser looked at me like he wanted to know every thought within my muddled mind, no matter how dirty they may be.

“What are you doing it for?” I dared myself to ask.

“I’ll collect that when I’m ready, don’t worry.”

If he was about to be my ruin, at least he wasn’t so bad to look at along the way.

7

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