Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
“Ah, she’s told you, then.” She sipped her martini. “She’s tough,” she continued after a second. “Her parents’ relationship has jaded her.”
“She doesn’t try to pretend otherwise. She has a very mixed view of love.”
Olive bobbed her head in agreement. “She’s seen both healthy and unhealthy relationships, but I fear her parents’ issues wiped out all the good she saw in my marriage and of her other grandparents.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say.
“But she doesn’t know everything,” she mused, looking thoughtfully in Grace’s direction. “In fact, there’s a lot she doesn’t know, but perhaps it’s time I told her father where to stick it and told her everything.”
I frowned down at her. “What does that mean?”
“It means that relationships aren’t black and white, and she doesn’t know everything about her parents’ relationship the way she thinks she does.” Olive met my eyes. “I like you. I don’t know why, but I do. It doesn’t hurt that you’re extremely handsome.”
I cleared my throat. “Thank you?”
She patted my arm. “You’d bring some good genes to my grandbabies, and I can’t say I’d be mad if one was a duke.”
“That’s…” I paused. “Some impressive wishful thinking,” I finished after a moment.
“I am nothing if not a dreamer.” She chuckled. “You clearly have a soft spot for Gracie. And looking at her… well. I know my granddaughter very well.”
I was afraid to ask what that meant.
“I think she and I need a little chat when we get home.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I admitted.
“Good.” Olive reached up and tapped my cheek lovingly. “Just do me a favour, Will.”
“I can try.”
“When this wedding is over, for goodness’ sake, don’t delete her number. You’ll be needing it.”
On that bombshell, she sipped her martini and sauntered off, disappearing behind a very large floral display before I had a chance to even process her words.
What the hell was she talking about?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN – WILLIAM
Big Spoon, Little Spoon
“Wait.” Grace stopped and looked around, then pressed her hand against the wall and reached for her heels.
I watched her with amusement. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t wear these anymore,” she replied, pulling the first shoe off. She slowly lowered her foot back to the ground and groaned as it flattened against the stone tiles. “Oh, man, that feels so good.”
“What? You couldn’t wait until we got back to the room?”
She pulled the other one off, accentuating it with a ‘pop’ of her lips. “Here. You put these on, walk to the room, then tell me you don’t feel like cutting your feet off.”
“No, I’m all right, thanks. They don’t look like they’re my size.”
She grabbed the heels and looped her fingers through the straps, wincing as she stepped forwards. “Ouch. That hurts.”
“Come here.” I chuckled and offered her my arm, which she took with another wince. “It’s not that bad, surely?”
“My feet have been in an unnatural shape for four hours. Of course it’s that bad. They’re trying to become normal again, plus my toes are swollen.” She made a face as she looked down at her toes. “I might need to ice them.”
“Just wear flats tomorrow.”
“I don’t have any with me, unless you want me to show up in my boots. Besides, these aren’t uncomfortable shoes.”
“How are they comfortable? You’re wincing with every step you take.”
“They’re fine when I’m sitting down.”
“That’s the weirdest reasoning I’ve ever heard. Listen to yourself, Cinderella.” I eyed the shoes. “Are you going to lose one?”
“Oh, give over,” she replied, stopping in the middle of the hall and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Gotta get the blood flowing again.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, we’re going to be here all night.” I extracted my arm from hers and stepped in front of her. “Get on my back.”
“I’m not climbing on your back!”
“I’m not waiting for you to decide you can walk again, so here. I’ll give you a piggy-back to our room where you can crawl about if you so wish.”
“You could have a bit of sympathy for me, you know.”
“For what? You willingly putting those murder contraptions on your feet? Not on your nelly, Cinderella. Now jump, on my count of three.”
“Oh, Jesus, fine.” She handed me her shoes, then placed her hands on my shoulders.
I counted down, feeling her squat, then jump on my final count. I hooked my arms under her knees, hitting myself in the thighs with her heels. “You good up there?”
“I haven’t had a piggyback since I was eight. This is ridiculous.”
“So is your footwear.” I carried her down the hall to make the turn to our rooms. “But I would like to go to bed before midnight, so let’s go.”
She huffed in my ear. “Thank you. My feet hurt.”
“That hurt you to admit, didn’t it?”
“Shh. I’ll have no mystery left if you make me admit anything.” She rested her face alongside mine, shifting her body slightly. “Do you think we really pulled it off tonight?”