I’m proud of myself. She looks amazing, and it fits her like a glove.
"Anything else we need to do for the wedding?" Islan asks.
Fran shakes her head. “Just show up for moral support by this time. I decided I was going to upgrade to the white seats, by the way."
"Really, Fran," Paisley says. "Why do you care about the color of the chairs that people are just putting their arses on?"
Nan waves her hand at Paisley. “It’ll make yer arse look smaller.”
Paisley’s jaw drops. “Does my arseneedto look smaller?”
She cranes her neck around to look behind her and Islan rolls her eyes again. “Your arse is fine, my God.”
Nan clucks her tongue and laughs as she sips her tea. She catches my eye and winks at me. Clearly, she loves to take the piss out of them.
The girls go on to discuss the details of the wedding, and Mac looks at all of them amusedly, before he finally takes his leave. “See you later tonight,” he leans in and whispers in my ear. “Do you think we could have a private fitting ofyourdress?”
It isn't fair how easily he makes me blush, right here in front of hisfamily.
I nod. “I suppose we can make that happen. You do have a raincheck to cash.”
He kisses my cheek and leaves while the girls and I finish.
“Did anyone read the new book yet?” Paisley asks, her eyes shining. “We spoke too soon about no new releases. The book dropped just a few days ago.” She sighs happily. “I think it’s the most angsty one yet. Honest to goodness, thefeelsin this one…”
“I haven’t read any of them yet, but I plan on it soon,” I say.
“I read it,” Cairstina says, her eyes shining. “It wasgorgeous.”
“My God, woman, that scene in the graveyard?”
“Graveyard?” I ask, intrigued.
Cairstina flushes bright red when Islan goes into sordid, descriptive detail. I watch Nan take a little flask out of her side pocket and tip it into her tea.
“My, my,” Fran says, lifting her eyebrows suggestively. “Maybe I do need to read these, hmm? But really, girls, aren’t they… super unrealistic?”
“How so?” Paisley asks, her head tipped to the side. Mac’s told me she’s an avid reader, and I wonder if Fran’s got Paisley’s hackles up.
“They’re about men in the mafia.” She snorts and looks around. “And you girls know that I don't live under a rock, and you know I’m one of the few that knows… things.”
“Aye,” Islan says with a snort. “It’s not every mate that knows why a girl has to take a bodyguard to a club.”
“Or to a bloody wedding,” Paisley mutters. I sort of laugh-wince at that. Poor thing.
“Aye,” Fran says. “And I won’t go into details, but you know, we’ve talked. Bottom line, though.” Her eyes grow a little wistful, and her voice cynical when she says with a sigh, “Would aman that dedicated to family ever be capable of fully loving a woman?”
I blink in surprise, taken aback by the question.
My father wasn’t.
My brother doesn’t seem capable.
And Bram Cowen… well, I don’t know him, but I’d have questions there as well. My eyes go to Flora. She smiles, twisting a length of ribbon in her hand absentmindedly.
“Oh, now, I don't know about that, do I?” I expect her to explain that her husband does love her, that Fran’s wrong. Fran doesn’t back down but meets Flora’s eyes.
What Flora says next surprises me. “It seems that Leith’s learned to love, hasn’t he? You’ll never see a more devoted husband.”
