Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
I take a step back and look at myself in his floor length mirror. I hate how much I want to look pretty for him. That I want him to remember this night. Not as the night I was going to hand him to the Lords but the night that I gave myself to him.
Feeling eyes on me, I turn to face the bathroom entrance. He stands there in the doorway, hands shoved into his jeans and heated eyes running over my body.
I run my hands down the soft fabric. “I…” I clear my throat. “I didn’t know what to wear.” My voice is soft, and I shuffle from foot to foot as he just stands there staring at me in silence.
He wants to change his mind. Licking my lips nervously, I try to come up with a reason for him to marry me. “Haidyn—”
Stepping into the bathroom, I trail off as he comes up to me. His muscular body presses into mine. His hand cups my face, and I hold my breath waiting for the inevitable. He’s going to change his mind. Maybe he’ll hand me over to them instead. His lips part, and I hold my breath as he speaks.
“You’re a gorgeous bride, Charlotte.”
My eyes sting, and my pulse races. The blood rushes in my ears. Bride. I’m going to marry this man. I’m going to be his Lady. That thought makes me excited and terrified. I’m not sure if I want to cry or vomit. Right now, I’m trying not to do both.
HAIDYN
“Thank you again for making it on such short notice,” I say, showing the Lord toward the front doors of the house.
He nods. “Of course, and congratulations.”
Closing them behind him, I make my way back into the living room to find my wife standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the woods as it pours rain outside. We barely made it home on the bike before it started.
She wears the dress. The same one from the night that I first laid eyes on her. I was in complete awe when I found her in the bathroom earlier dressed in it. I don’t believe in signs, but it felt like one. That she was meant for me. Little Miss Priss to my pretty little whore. I’ve never had something that was all mine. Men like me don’t get what they want. They get what the Lords want them to have. What have I done to deserve her? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to take advantage of the beautiful brunette who just took my last name.
She holds a glass of scotch, gently swirling it around as the ice clanks. Bringing it to her lips, she takes a sip, grimacing.
“You know it’s poor taste to get drunk at your wedding,” Adam jokes, coming to stand next to her. He holds Muffin in one hand while the other scratches her head.
Charlotte sighs heavily and tosses the drink back, sucking in a sharp breath at the burn. I’m not sure if she’s ignoring him on purpose or just doesn’t care.
My eyes drop to her heels and slowly run over the white dress. I wanted to get her out of it years ago, and now I get my chance. It’ll be on my floor tonight. Her dark hair is down and wavy, and I know she wears very little makeup. We rushed right back here to sign the documents. A few signatures, and a witness and she has become my wife. No chapel, no tux, no flowers, and no guests. Just me, her, and Adam. She hasn’t even asked who he is. I think she already knows.
Annabelle Marie Schults is mine. Forever.
Crossing my arms over my chest, Adam turns to see me. He gets a smile on his face and pretends to hold a microphone to his lips. “Ladies and gentlemen…I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Reeves.” He then acts like he drops it and picks up the remote on the coffee table, pointing it at the TV and pulls up his Spotify account. He picks one of his sappy playlists, then “You Are The Reason” by Calum Scott flows from the speakers. The man is as much of a hopeless romantic as he is heartless.
Charlotte turns to face me, and I’m already headed toward her.
Her eyes drop to her heels as she shuffles from foot to foot. She’s nervous.
I come up to her and reach out my right hand. “Dance with me, Mrs. Reeves?”
She looks up at me through her dark lashes as I take the drink from her left hand and set it on the end table next to the couch. Then I grab her right hand and pull her to me.
SIXTY-FOUR
CHARLOTTE
I’m married!
I’m officially Mrs. Reeves. We signed some papers, and the guy who I’m pretty sure is Adam signed as our witness. It was as if we were buying a car while sitting at the kitchen table. All it took was our signatures.