Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
She turns and passes me her bouquet, and then her father kisses both her cheeks and passes her to Henley.
“Hi.” He smiles.
“Hi,” she gushes.
“You look so beautiful,” he mouths.
“So do you,” she mouths back.
He leans in and kisses her softly, his lips lingering over hers, and from my peripheral vision, I see Blake wipe his eyes too.
Who knew these boys were so emotional?
“We’re getting married,” Juliet whispers, as if this is a surprise.
“I did notice that,” Henley whispers back, and we all laugh.
This is such a happy day.
The best.
The waitress carries out a huge tray of cupcakes and puts them down on the table. “Oh.” From across the room, my eyes widen in excitement, and I drag Blake over toward the table. “Let’s go get some.”
There must be fifty cupcakes laid out in the shape of a giant heart. “Look how pretty.” I smile as I look over the choices. “Take a photo of this for me.”
Blake takes out his phone and snaps a photo. “Hold a cupcake up,” he instructs me.
I pick up a cupcake. “They’re still hot,” I gush. “And the icing is oozing.” I take a big bite. “Oh . . .” I go cross-eyed in pleasure. “You have to have one of these. The icing is lemon.”
“You all right there?” Blake frowns as he looks at the ground.
I glance down to see the hot icing has drizzled down my shin and all over my foot. I giggle. “Eww.”
“Hold that thought.” Blake gets down on his knee and begins to snap photos of my foot in my strappy stiletto.
“What are you doing?” I glance at the people surrounding us. “You look like a weirdo.”
“Yeah, well, you look like you’ve got come all over your foot, and if it’s turning me on, imagine what those sick fuckers would do.”
“What?” I whisper.
Blake stands and grabs my hand and drags me outside. “Sit down and take your shoe off. I’m going to video it.”
“Huh?” I frown in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Just fucking do it.”
I sit down on the edge of the garden. “Don’t get my face in this.”
“I’m not.” He begins to video and puts his finger up to his lips for me to be quiet.
I slowly untie the strap and slide my foot out of my shoe. The white icing is now dripping between my toes.
He stops filming for a second. “Now, swipe your finger through it, and bring it up to your mouth,” Blake says.
“What?” I whisper as I look around guiltily. “I don’t want my face in anything.”
“I’ll edit it out; just do it.” He holds the camera up and then drops it again as he has another thought. “Don’t put your finger in your mouth; smear it across your lips instead.”
“What?”
“Just fucking do it,” he whispers.
I do as he tells me, and he smiles and holds his thumb up. “Do it again.”
I do it again.
“Now, smear your fingers through the icing on your foot, and then rub it into your toes.”
“You’re perverted, you know that?”
“I do know that.” He keeps filming, and after a good ten minutes, he says, “Okay, I think I’ve got it.” He scrolls back through his photos and smiles. “This is hot.”
“How is this hot?” I frown as I lean over his shoulder to look at the photos.
“I’m going to upload this one,” he tells me.
The photo is of my foot when we were inside by the cake table. It’s the one with the icing drizzled down my leg. “Yeah, okay.”
He passes me his phone. “Log me in to your dashboard from my phone so I can upload it.” I log in to Foot Finder and pass him his phone back. “No faces.”
“I know, I know.” He concentrates and goes through the process. “I’m going to add a teaser for more content and put a ridiculous price on it.”
“What do you mean, a ridiculous price?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “We’re faking it till we make it here.”
I bite my lip to hide my smile. Faking it till I make it has literally been my life motto lately.
He keeps concentrating on his phone.
“I’m going to the bathroom to wash this icing off. I’m sticky as all hell.”
“Okay.” He keeps typing in his phone. “See you inside.”
Blake swings me out and then rolls me back in as I laugh out loud. We’ve had the best time dancing and laughing—so much laughing. We are on the terrace dance floor; the fairy lights twinkle above, and the magical night is coming to an end.
Blake holds me in his arms as we sway to the music. “I have a confession to make.”
“Uh-oh.” I look up at him. “Do I want to hear it?”
He chuckles. “Maybe not.”
“Hit me.”
“I read your list.” We keep moving to the music.
I frown, confused. “What list?”
“The dos and don’ts of dating that you wrote.”