Tragedy!
I hustled after him as fast as my gold mules would take me.
I did not catch up. His legs were long, and he wasn’t wearing high heels. But I didn’t stop rushing while trying not to look like I was rushing and smiling a tight smile at anyone who caught my eyes.
Maybe they’d think I was ordering another case of champagne to be opened, um…with urgency.
Yes, I’d totally be a shit spy.
I turned the corner of the groom’s lounge and ran right into Dair’s broad back.
“We do not need an audience for this,” Balfour was saying.
I stepped to the side and got a full view of the very unhappy threesome.
Wait, it was an unhappy twosome: Balfour and Kenna.
Mum was veritably preening.
She was such a fucking piece of work.
“Take Mum back to the hotel,” Dair ordered his father.
“Alasdair, this doesn’t involve ye,” Balfour retorted.
And he looked a fool doing it, with my mother’s deep rose lipstick smeared all over his mouth.
It was smeared all over hers too.
Kenna was standing off to the side, looking like her world just ended.
She’d seen them necking.
She maybe knew before, perhaps she was unsure, perhaps living in denial, but she wasn’t in any question about it now.
And again, she’d always been kind to me.
Not to mention, I knew exactly how this felt.
But I didn’t have forty years of marriage under my belt with Chad.
These thoughts filled my veins with so much fire, I had to let some out.
It came from my mouth, and I directed it at who deserved it.
My mother.
“I never thought much of you, but are you really this woman?” I demanded hotly.
“Blake,” Bally said more calmly. “If ye’d take my son?—”
“No,” I snapped at him. “This is my sister’s wedding. I’ve known what kind of man you are for years, but this is a new low.”
Bally flinched.
Dair pulled me to his side and repeated to his father, “Take Mum back to the hotel.”
Balfour was repeating too. “This doesn’t involve either of ye.”
