Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Fortunately, the weekend’s already almost over. The ceremony’s done, and now, Milly climbs onto a chair for the bouquet toss, as single ladies gather in a cluster behind her. Quite a few male guests watch with bemused eyes as the women chatter excitedly, some with their arms extended in anticipation.
“This is going to be a shitshow,” a man to my left murmurs, his blue eyes dancing.
“Dibs on the one in blue,” another muttered, his gaze fixed to a waif-like young woman dressed in a sky-colored shift. “Shit, I hope she’s eighteen.”
Meanwhile, Milly was in her element.
“I want you ladies to work for it!” my little sister cried with joy before facing away and lowering her arms. “Three... two... one... catch!”
The bouquet soared into the air in a high arc. Pink ribbons trailed from the roses as hungry hands clamored from below. Girls jostled each other, literally shrieking with joy, and quite a few elbows were tossed in an effort to catch the beautiful blooms.
But Kristie was positioned just right, and the bouquet plopped in her grasp. Her big blue eyes were surprised as she caught my gaze from across the way, the spark between us electric. What would it be like to have Kristie as my bride? To see her, flushed and beautiful with a white veil on those golden tresses as we exchanged vows? To kiss that pretty pout as I claimed her before the world?
Unfortunately, my reverie was interrupted when another woman accidentally lost her balance. It looked like the other woman’s heel got caught in something, and she went down, but not without taking Kristie with her in a jumble of arms and legs.
“Oof!” my stepsister cried, tumbling to the rough cobblestone while losing her grip on the bouquet. “Ouch!”
“Oh my god, are you okay?” the other woman asked, standing up before dusting off her hands. “Oh shit. I kind of landed on you, and you hit the ground hard. Here, let me help you up.”
She extended a hand, and Kristie was lifted to her feet but I could see that there was some real damage. Blood streamed from my stepsister’s knee in a red trail, and her hands were scratched up and slightly bloody from the rough gravel.
“Oh my god!” the other woman gasped, looking at Kristie’s knee before calling out into the crowd. “Do we have a doctor here? We need medical help!”
It was my cue. I stepped forward before locking eyes with my gorgeous stepsister. Her bottom lip trembled and it was everything I could do to not lean down to kiss those pouty lips. Instead, I held myself aloof, and kept my manner professional.
“I’m an ER doctor,” I said in a low tone. “Come on, Kristie. Let’s go inside because there’s bound to be a first aid kit somewhere. I’ll patch you up.”
Then, without waiting for an answer, I turned and stalked into the wedding venue. I felt, rather than saw, the curvy girl hurrying after me, and my heart raced because finally ... I’ll be able to touch my obsession once more.
5
Kristie
Nick looks grumpy and a little mad, to be honest. He was efficient, and able to grab a first aid kit from the venue staff before bringing me to a private restroom. It’s a luxe one within the hotel, and not at all gross or disgusting. Instead, the space is divided into two parts: a small, carpeted women’s lounge, outfitted with a mirror, vanity table, stool and a small couch, and then the facilities in the space beyond. Heavy damask covers the walls, and there are luxe curtain swags as well, although no actual windows. A chandelier glints overhead as the handsome physician tends to my knee.
“There,” Nick growls low in his chest, eyes fixed on the white bandage pasted to my limb. “That’ll help stanch the bleeding for now, but remove the dressing once a day, and rinse it with warm water. It’ll heal on its own. You’re lucky you don’t need stitches.”
I nod, my heart fluttering in my chest.
“Thanks Nick,” I say in an almost-whisper. “I really appreciate your help.”
He nods curtly, still avoiding my eyes.
“Show me your hands. Are you injured?”
I hold my hands out, palms uplifted, and sure enough, they’re scratched and bloody, with some small rocks embedded in the skin.
He growls with displeasure. “Go wash your hands in some warm water, and then I’ll clean that up for you,” he rasps. “Go on. There’s a sink in the other room.”
Slowly, I get to my feet, totally aware of the alpha male’s presence. After all, this is a tiny space, and Nick is huge. Is it possible he’s even bigger than before? His broad shoulders resemble boulders, and his chest is wide as well as massive. Long legs are encased in suit pants, but that can’t hide the fact that his thighs are thick and powerful, his calves toned like a man who does manual labor for a living. I suppose he’s on his feet in the ER, but still. This is clearly the physique of a man who works out.