Page 54 of Diverge

“You won’t.” I can sense her nerves getting the better of her. Giving her a big hug, I reassure her that she owes it to herself to follow her heart, and if her heart says Michael, then she should listen.

“You won’t end up like your parents,” I reassure her. “You are not your mother, and Michael is nothing like your father.”

She shakes her head and stands. “You’re right. I deserve to be happy.” She turns to me and gives me the biggest smile. “And so do you. Now hurry up and get ready, preferablybeforethe guests arrive.”

I throw a pillow at her retreating body as she just makes it out the door laughing.

The rest of the morning is slow. Patty, Grace, and I get ready in the upstairs sitting area as Rob, Riley, and Finn arrange the setup for the party outside on the lawn. Patricia Mackenzie, Grace’s mother, is the most elegant person you will ever meet. She just exudes elegance and poise no matter where she is or what she is doing. Her long blonde hair, so similar to Grace’s, falls just above her hips as she sits typing something on her phone while the makeup artist applies her foundation, and I can't help but admire her dedication to her job.

“Billie, darling, we’re so thrilled about you and Finn.”

She looks up from her phone to me. I feel myself blushing as heat burns my cheeks.

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but I’m glad you both worked it out.” She smiles a genuine smile.

“Yeah, me, too.” Grace raises her champagne glass to me, and I raise mine back at her with a smile.

“Thank you. It was silly, but we worked through it,” I admit.

After our makeup is complete, we each have our hair done, and I slip on my black mid-length dress in my room. Well, Finn’s room. A large king-size bed sits in the middle of the room with a small couch where the floor-to-ceiling windows are. I hear the water running in the en suite bathroom. Finn is probably taking a shower just before the party. I decide to wait for him, taking a seat on the couch.

I place my laptop on my knees and open up my emails. I find myself sifting through hundreds of emails from clients which starts to make me feel dizzy. I don’t know why I do that to myself. It’s a Sunday, and yet I’m looking at emails, making myself anxious before Monday even comes.

I shut my laptop with a loud thud just as the bathroom door opens, and Finn steps out in a towel wrapped around his hips. His masculine body has me clenching my thighs, thinking about the things he has done to me.

“I’ve been catching you staring at me a lot lately.” His voice interrupts my dirty thoughts as the corner of his lips lifts in a smirk.

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “I mean, you’re no Chris Hemsworth...”

He acts hurt, mockingly placing a hand on his chest.

“But you’re nice to look at.”

He laughs as he removes his towel, my breath immediately grinds to a halt. Damn, he is so fine. He may not be Chris Hemsworth, but he sure as hell can get me to clench my thighs together in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing between my legs.

“Maybe we should have a quickie before we join the guests.” He chuckles and waggles his eyebrows at me as he crowds my space, his freshly showered skin still slick with water.

Placing my hand on his chest, I giggle. Only he can bring out a giggle in me. “I’ll ruin my makeup.”

He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me in, his erection now pushing into my stomach.

“I love when your makeup runs down your face, the only thing missing from that picture is my dick in your mouth.” His words send a jolt of electricity straight to my core.

We’re interrupted by Grace’s loud knocks on the door.

“You guys better not be fucking! The guests are already here. I expect you both downstairs in less than five minutes. You hear me, Finn!?”

Finn’s eyes never leave mine as he traces a finger from my lips down to the middle of my breasts. Breaking our contact before things get too heated, I yell out to Grace.

“We’ll be down in a couple minutes!”

Making our way outside to the yard, my mouth falls open at the sight in front of me. There’s a large marquee in the middle of the yard, surrounded by various-sized lanterns. Fairy lights dance in the trees surrounding the marquee, tables scattered about the lawn, filled with guests. Music filters through the speakers from the stage on our left, the band singing a mellow tune. Finn’s hand slides into mine, his fingers lacing with mine.

“This is so beautiful,” I say, mostly to myself.

He leans into my ear.

“Ours will be better someday.” His smile is contagious.

---