Page 258 of The Unwilling Bride
Tristan runs his fingers through his hair. "Can’t deny dear ol’ mum when she asks me to do something, can I?"
For a forty-nine-year-old man who’s always composed, he seems…frazzled.
"I think it’s admirable that you’re humoring Margot," I offer.
He snorts. "If I told her not to interfere in my life, she’d only double her efforts in trying to get me married off. This way, I can buy myself a little more time before she springs a scheme on me the way she did for you."
I hold up my hands. "It was a pain in the backside when she set her sights on me, but you gotta hand it to her, it seems to have worked."
I’m happy. Blissfully so.
"It would have been helpful if you’d proved her wrong. Instead, you look disgustingly content." He narrows his gaze on me.
Warmth fills my chest.
Since marrying Ember I’m more at peace.
I look forward to waking up in the morning next to her. And seeing her face before I fall asleep. And being with her every second in between.
When we’re at work, I hate being away at her. I message her almost every hour. I know it might deflect her attention from the very important project of launching her first restaurant, but I am also unable to stop myself.
"Margot’s made it clear, you’re next. If I were you, I’d be finding ways of evading a trap." Beckett’s eyes gleam.
He’s enjoying seeing our usually unflappable uncle squirming in his seat.
Tristan cracks his neck. "I’m going to use every trick in the book to ensure her designs to get me hitched fail."
Good luck with that.
Knowing Margot, once she makes up her mind about something, it’s nearly impossible to sway her.
Beckett slides a pint in my direction.
I nod my thanks.
"Everyone okay for drinks?" He asks the table.
There are grunts all around.
"Brilliant." He rubs his hands. "I call this meeting of Braids and Booze to order."
"Who came up with the name?" Tristan scowls.
"Don’t like it?"
"It sounds cutesy." He makes a face.
"Freya is cute." I shrug.
Thorne looks at me with interest. "That’s your?—"
"My wife’s niece. She needs to know, not all men leave. Might as well be me who proves it."
Thorne’s eyes grow serious. "That’s excellent, bro."
I nod my thanks, then turn to Beckett. "What gave you the idea to set this up?"
He takes a sip of his Guinness while contemplating his words. "The woman I've set my eyes on is a single mother. Thought I might get ahead in the game by learning how to get in touch with my feminine side. And perhaps, earn brownie points with her daughter by learning how to braid."
