Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
"I—" Thankfully, Warren's mom interrupts me, speaking over everyone to get their attention. I had no clue how to respond to his question because I’m not sure of the answer myself.
“You’re saved for now,” Warren says, releasing his hold on my chin. When I glance back out to the crowd, I notice everyone is watching us and not Rochelle, who has started a toast. There is a mix of expressions from everyone. Even Warren’s sister, Cosima, is studying the two of us.
A few more people stand up to give us well wishes. I sip on my champagne. It slowly starts to relax me.
“What will it be?” Warren asks as they start to serve dinner. “I had them make sure the ceremony was quick for you.”
“You did?”
Warren shrugs. “I know this isn’t what you wanted.” I glance down at my lap. That’s not true. At least at one time this had been a dream of mine. “But if you wish, one day I’ll give you the wedding you deserve.” I nod, choked with emotion. These are the little things he says that pull me into him. That make me think my first instincts about him weren’t wrong.
“We’ll do the cake and dance.” I pick up my glass and take another sip.
“Eat if you’re going to keep drinking.”
“Are you always going to boss me around?”
“When it comes to your well-being, I can fix it.” Warren picks up his fork and knife, cutting a piece of the steak and bringing it to my mouth. I part my lips and take the bite. Warren's eyes soften around the sides. He feeds me another bite and then another.
"War." An old man in a fancy suit comes to stand in front of our table. He's got streaks of gray through his black hair. It makes his flushed red nose and cheeks appear brighter. "I missed the engagement party. I apologize."
"It's fine." Warren doesn't spare the man a glance, only feeding me another bite.
"Your bride—"
"Is trying to eat her dinner."
The older man's overgrown brows lift. I want to sink back in my chair because this is awkward, but it doesn't faze Warren.
"My apologies."
"It's okay," I tell him. Warren finally turns his head toward the man.
"My wife is polite. It is not okay. We will greet our guests after dinner." The man's cheeks somehow manage to flush more. I'm sure mine aren't doing much better.
The man stumbles over his words before fleeing our table. Again, people are watching us. Even my parents.
"That was harsh," I say under my breath, not wanting others to hear.
"That was far from harsh."
"Okay, it was rude."
"It was rude of him to disturb us while we enjoyed our wedding dinner."
I snort a laugh. "I don't know if you're teasing me or not."
"I'll pick whichever made you laugh."
"You can be charming when you want." I start to lift my hand to touch his cheek but stop myself.
“Touch me.” I let my fingers trail down his jaw before I cup it. I can feel the roughness of his beard trying to come through. He must have shaved a few hours ago because normally by this time of day he’d have a five o'clock shadow.
Warren leans into my touch.
“Holy shit,” Cosima whispers loudly. Her eyes are wide, fixed on us. I drop my hand. “Sorry.” She sinks back in her chair. Z chuckles, draping his arm over the back of her chair.
I can sense the shift in Warren next to me, a cold wall coming down hard all around him, taking away all the warmth he was giving me.
Chapter Fourteen
WARREN
It’s impossible to be near her and not touch her. I know she hates the attention. In my years of watching Tova, I have observed that she can be shy until she gets to know someone. I hate that I have to put her through this spectacle. That’s what this is. It’s all for a fucking show.
We cut the cake, and this time she feeds me a bite. I have never been one for sweets, but the buttercream of the icing tastes different when Tova brings another bite to my mouth. I greedily take it, wanting to make her happy.
"Do you want to leave after our dance?" I ask Tova.
My father, I'm sure, would prefer that I make a few rounds to mingle and be courteous, but at this point I couldn’t care less. I'm still pissed that he'd invited some of these people.
Tova looks like a damn dream. Her wedding dress is breathtaking. Her shoulders are bare, except for delicate straps that sweep across her upper arms. The top part appears to be a corset with tiny buttons in the back. It molds to her body, accentuating her curves. The creamy white lace with lace flowers that go all the way down to the floor gives it a timeless look. It’s as though it were made with her in mind. When she walks, I swear she looks as though she’s floating.