Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
At least she’s friendly with Seven and his mother, and she’s taken a genuine liking to Sprout. She even made the flower girl dress Sprout’s wearing and added extra fabric to the skirt so it would have the “twirliness” her new granddaughter requested.
My mother is, at her core, a good person.
Even if it’s hard to remember that when she’s being a bossy matchmaker who can’t take a hint to save her life…
“I could reintroduce you,” she adds. “I saw Petey talking to Barrett by the bar just a little while ago. I’m sure he’d love the chance to get reacquainted, and you look so nice tonight. Your hair’s hardly frizzy at all.”
The woman must truly think that I don’t have eyes. My hair is a frizzed disaster, and it’s about to get worse as soon as I head out into the early summer heat.
No way in heck am I sticking around the ballroom to be forced upon Petey. I’ll wait until everyone’s dancing and sneak back in later, once it’s easier to disappear into the crowd.
“Maybe later,” I say vaguely, already backing toward the balcony doors. “I have to check on something.”
“Check on something?” Mom’s brows pinch together. “Check on what?”
“A thing I promised Christian and another thing for Mel,” I say, trusting that my siblings will back me up if Mom questions either of them. I smile and wave, promising, “Be right back!”
But I have no intention of “being right back.”
As soon as I close the door to the balcony behind me, I hurry past the few other people hanging out in the steamy July air and down the staircase at the far side. In just a few minutes, I’m on the path leading to the boathouse by the lake, leaving the raucous sounds of the party behind.
Mom can say what she wants about Seven and his “wild and rowdy” relatives, but it’s the McGuires that turn every social gathering into a sound pollution situation. There are just too many of us. Eight kids are a lot to begin with, but now there are spouses and grandchildren and friends of the spouses and pets and friends of the pets…
It’s just…a lot.
Especially for a person who wants to be left alone to read in peace most of the time. It’s one of the many reasons I love my new job as a remote data analyst, working with a social science department on the East Coast. Sure, Zoom meetings are the worst, but that’s only two mornings a week. The rest of the time, I’m left blissfully alone to pour through data, write papers, and make graphs.
Ah…graphs, now there’s a thing you can put your faith in.
Not like people. People are far too confusing and hard to read.
Which, sadly, means my own matchmaking days are probably behind me. I loved the rush of helping two people find love way more than I thought I would, but I’m not usually good at spotting a perfect match. I only knew about Binx and Seven because she’s my sister and closest sibling.
Even with my other siblings, I often don’t understand what’s in their hearts.
Barrett, for example. I had no clue that he and Wren would ever be anything more than friends and colleagues. Their romance took me completely by surprise. Same with Christian and Starling. To be honest, I thought they disliked each other right up until the moment Mom started having a coronary because some jerk had leaked their sex tape to the internet.
I shudder at the thought as I step onto the dock beside the boathouse.
I would die.
I would spontaneously combust from shame and my ashes would be blown away by the wind, never to be seen again.
But that’s one of the many benefits of being a twenty-four-year-old virgin. I don’t have to worry about my sex tape being leaked to the internet, revenge porn, or STDs. I also spend very little time fretting about my heart being broken or accidental pregnancy.
Basically, life as an ancient, nerdy virgin is a bowl of cherries—pun intended.
I couldn’t be happier.
So, why does my heart twist in my chest as I lean against the dock railing and stare back at the historic hotel, where all my nearest and dearest are celebrating?
I’m not jealous, truly I’m not. I wouldn’t want to get married right now. I’m not even ready for a steady boyfriend.
My remote job might go in-person in the next few months. If it does, I’ll be moving to Boston, and scoring a twenty thousand dollar increase in my annual salary. The last thing I need is an emotional attachment to Bad Dog tying me down. I already have the emotional attachment of my family to deal with. I know they won’t be happy to learn that I’m moving so far away, even if it is only to assist on a two-year research study.