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Anna swallows, red-faced, and without another word, turns away from me. She acts like she can say whatever the hell she wants because she’s the one in a white dress.
I clench my jaw, not liking the attitude. That’s the sister Alice has to put up with?
“Alice,” her mother says, tugging on her elbow. “We have more family photos, on the veranda.” She sweeps Alice away, and I’m left to my own devices.
I have no problem holding my own. Hell, if more people try to make snarky comments about Alice, about saying they are surprised she has a date, and that she’s always been so quiet and shy, and that they didn’t believe I was real--I have no problem setting those fuckers straight.
I’ve just gotten another drink when that asshole, Peter starts strutting toward me. I don’t want to give this fucker the time of day, but he’s insistent, wanting to question me like Alice said he would.
“Alice told me you took advantage of her. Just who the hell do you think you are?” Peter asks. His voice isn’t loud, it is a whisper-yell fit for a junior high girl. This guy needs to grow some motherfucking balls.
“It would seem so.”
“You’re all wrong for her, everyone can see that.”
“Everyone? I wasn’t aware everyone here knew me.”
“You just arrived. You don’t know Alice,” Peter scoffs.
I smirk. “Oh, I know her pretty well.”
“She was saving herself for me.”
I shrug, taking a drink of my whiskey. “That’s not what she said when I showed her what a real man is made of.”
“I’ve known Alice for years. I’m in a better position to know what kind of man she really needs.”
“Oh, you do? You know what kind of man she needs?” I ask, barely containing a laugh. The fact that this guy thinks he’s what Alice needs is a goddamn joke.
“I know that she needs a man of sizable means. She’s used to a lifestyle of a certain caliber. And I don’t know what you do in Alaska...”
“I’m a fisherman.”
Peter croons. “Exactly. I don’t think a guy who catches fish for a living can give Alice what she’s used to. She grew up in a mansion, her parents have houses in Europe and Hawaii. They own a yacht. They have a household staff. And just because you went to Rent-A-Suit for this wedding doesn’t mean you can give her what she needs.”
I look down at my suit, knowing the four-figure cost. Not needing to prove a fucking thing to this twat.
“She’s used to a certain lifestyle, and I hate to break it to you, fisherman, but there’s no way you can give her what she needs.”
Oh, hell no. I can let a lot of what he says slide off my back, but I take offense to this. I’ll give my girl whatever the fuck the wants.
Hell, if Alice needs a gorgeous home, I’ll give that to her.
Hell, if she wants a chef and a private masseuse? Great, I’ll make sure she has those too.
I don’t have any problem spending my money on her, spending a fortune on her.
I just take offense to the idea of a gold digger spending my fortune.
But that’s not Alice. She has no idea that I have enough money that I never need to fish again. That I go trawling for King salmon because I love being on the open water.
“I know what Alice needs,” I tell him gruffly, my good-natured approach to this asshole long gone.
“Yeah right, just because you slept with her once doesn’t mean you know her,” Peter asks, adjusting the Rolex on his wrist as if a timepiece makes him a man.
“You’re wrong, I do know. I’m her fiancé.”
Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but it’s the same line Alice used on Sheila to shut her up. And I need to get Peter out of my line of sight before I punch the fucker in the face. Seems like the quickest way to get him away from me is by telling him the one thing I wish were the goddamn truth.
“You’re her what?” Peter says.
“You heard me, buddy. She’s my woman. We’re getting married.” With that, I turn my back, not having time for this bullshit. I won’t let fucking Peter Gunheight derail me.
I go to the bar order myself a whiskey and look for my make-believe bride.
I can’t wait to tell her the joke I played. I know she’ll appreciate it as much as I did.Chapter ElevenWhen I saw Aiden, standing up and watching me as I walked down the aisle of the wedding, my heart unfurled. I’d been so anxious that he wasn’t going to show. That what I thought was something real was, in fact, a dream.
But when I walked down the aisle, he stood and looked at me like I was the most delicious thing he’d ever seen.
