Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
I won’t give in so easily. He really made an ass of himself and used me. That’s not exactly a strong foundation to build any sort of relationship off of, maybe not even friendship. It’ll take more than a pocket square and a little pride to convince me it’s worth another chance.
As though he can read my thoughts, Emanuel leans in and whispers in my ear, “I’ll do anything to make this right. I’ll sew you any dress, I’ll crawl on my hands and knees, or grovel if that’s what it’ll take. I’ve fucked this up and I’ll do whatever I need to do to prove to you I won’t fuck up so carelessly again.”
“Oh really?” I mutter, trying to sound humored instead of touched over the sentiment. “Anything I want?”
“Yes,” he remarks boldly. “Name it.”
“Serenade me then,” I sarcastically remark, thinking of the most absurd and embarrassing thing I can.
His face falls and I think he isn’t taking well to me making a joke out of his gesture. I should stop and take him seriously, but I think humor is my last mode of defense. If I don’t make a joke out of it, he’ll know I’m melting and I’m just not ready to be vulnerable with him yet. “Is that really what you want?”
“Yup,” I grumble, looking away.
As soon as the song ends, he pulls away from me and disappears into the crowd on the dance floor. Letting out a shaky breath, I make my way over to the bar and get myself a glass of white wine. Anxiety wreaks havoc in my body as I take a long sip of the wine. Did I just mess up? Should I have let him in? What if it’s me that has fucked things up this time? Do I care? Should I care?
My head is spinning, and I head back to my table, wanting nothing more than to drink my wine, eat some food, and look forward to retreating to the other cottage on the property that Levi rented out for the bridal party to stay in; the newlyweds of course had the main cottage to themselves.
As one of my great aunt’s stops me and asks where my mother is, I’m saved by the sound of the music stopping and a voice coming over the microphone. “Hello everyone, I’m Emanuel Efron,” he begins. I wheel myself around, staring at him with bug eyes as he addresses the entire wedding. “I’m the dressmaker that Caroline graciously picked out to make her gown for this remarkable day. And I just wanted to take a moment to congratulate the beautiful couple and thank them for inviting me.” There’s an applause break and Emanuel’s eyes find me in the crowd. “I saw on the invitation that it’s open bar, and so I didn’t bring a bottle of wine as a gift. I’ve brought a song with me instead. Fellas?”
He glances back at the band and they start playing. I can’t believe how incredibly smooth his announcement is, or the fact he arranged something with the band that fast. Then, Emanuel sings “Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone. He has a charming and velvety voice, though it cracks on high notes occasionally.
I'm in absolute awe. I can’t believe he’s actually singing at my sister’s wedding to make things up with me. And somehow, he knew one of my favorite classic love songs. The words bring a blush to my cheek.
There’s no more hiding it. I’m so utterly lost in him and this moment. I can’t believe that he’s managed to turn the wedding into a romantic moment for me too. By the time he finishes and gets off the stage, I can’t even try to wipe the smile off my face. The crowd is clapping and laughing all around me as Emanuel cuts through them all, heading right for me. He’s heaving for breath as he stops right in front of me. The band carries on with the next song and everyone starts dancing around us. “So, do you forgive me?”
“Yes,” I admit. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“I told you, I’d do anything to make it right.”
As we grin like fools, I pull him into me and crash my lips into his. Just like that, it feels as though the past month hasn’t happened. As though Eliza never approached us at the festival. Butterflies course through me, and I know I'm once again hooked on him. The one kiss leads to several, and as much as I normally would be embarrassed by it, I’m making out with him as we dance. Hot spikes of desire move through me as we kiss and dance.
Before long, I know I want more. The song ends and I peel back to get a good look at him. He’s beautiful, passionate, and clearly gives a damn about me. And I want him in every way possible. This fling we have has been a whirlwind, but it’s worth it for the feeling I have right now. Hope. Excitement. Feeling alive.