Broken Ex-Bully by Victoria Pinder

Scottish Wedding Date Preview

Charlotte

When Jane Austen imagined Lydia and Wickham’s rushed wedding in Pride and Prejudice, she clearly missed an opportunity to discover that the Highlands were indeed beautiful. I would have switched places and lived in Regency England, where the only worry was who to marry, in a heartbeat. It was better than fearing more failure. I was standing outside on my own private balcony in my bedroom of a castle that was just as beautiful as I’d imagined Pemberley to be.

Though the sunset was spectacular, I was on my cell phone, pretending to listen to my mother. I watched the sun fade away, making “mm-hmm” and “ahh” sounds as she talked about her newest artistic commission. Her words didn’t register for a full minute—the magnificence of the wild lands around me captivated me, almost as much as the owner of the castle had. Not that he would ever be within my reach. Once the sun disappeared, I sighed.

“Just wanted to remind you that your brother’s career is growing,” my mother said, “and it’s probably best no one associates him with your failure. So you need to keep your head down.”

Right.My brother was a superstar. My parents were renowned for their art. And I simply worked for an art dealer, because I had zero creative bones in my body and would forever be known as the woman who’d gone to the bathroom in the privacy of her own home while her father streamed it as part of an art installation. My ass and girly parts had gone viral after I’d farted on the toilet. I’d had no idea the camera was there. Although the toilet incident was gross, it wasn’t my worst failure. My worst failure was trying to manage my brother’s career and losing him his first contract.

I tugged my ear as the music of the party downstairs grew louder. “I want Edward to be happy, and I’ll keep my nose clean, but I have to go. My friend’s wedding—”

A knock sounded on my bedroom door. I’d dawdled too long in there, and my maid-of-honor dress was starting to feel binding. I’d only snuck in this call because we’d driven back from Gretna Green, so the reception was slightly delayed. As I turned to leave the balcony, my mother said, “Just don’t get involved with dukes and have people remember your disaster when he starts off his world tour.”

My face heated. Logan Grannd, the Duke of Aindal, was sexy, single, rich, and completely out of my league. I told my mom as I crossed my bedroom, “Goodbye.”

I assumed it was Sophia or Amelia, since our other best friend, Stephanie, was the bride. I tossed the door back without care, but then goosebumps grew on my body.

Our host and the likely winner of the sexiest Scot alive—if there was such a contest—leaned against the doorframe. “Everything okay?”

My lips parted. I wanted him in my bed and my life, but that was just fantasy. My face heated as I crossed the threshold so the bed behind me wasn’t part of the conversation. “Of course.”

He towered over me as we walked down the hall toward the reception hall. He was precise in his pacing and kept a good foot between us. “Dinner will start soon.”

I met his green-eyed stare as we headed toward the staircase, and my lady bits quivered. “Sounds good. I’m hungry.”

We stopped at the top of the stairs, and he took my gloved hand. If I weren’t Stephanie’s maid of honor, I never would have come to his castle. My friends had no idea that Logan Grannd, the man beside me now, starred in my dreams. He led me into a side room, and I glanced around to find it was a sitting room that overlooked the golf course. He closed the door, and the click made my lips quiver. I wanted him. He waited until I went to the couch then said, “Charlotte, let’s take a moment in here.”

Alone with the one man who made me melt faster than wax on a summer day, I fixed my necklace. “Should we? Our friends have wedding things for us.”

He gave me that smile of his, and my pulse zipped. “Tell me what’s put that worry on your face.”

I pressed my hand to my heart. If I followed through on my desires, I would be a hot mess who needed to get a grip on reality. “I don’t look exceedingly happy?”

“Yeah…”

My lips tingled. I had a vivid fantasy of throwing my arms around him and his hard muscles holding me tightly as he kissed me, wearing that sexy kilt of his. The last thing I needed was to experience more heartache when he left me, though. I’d had enough of that for a lifetime. I glanced out the window. “This will sound… petty. My parents are very successful artists, and my brother is exploding all over the world as a mega superstar. I’m the no-talent slacker who ‘hides her nose in a book’ rather than create.”

That summed up my life well, except I’d left out the truth about how I’d lost my brother millions of dollars. My mother was a painter. My father was a digital artist. My brother was a musical superstar. I worked as an art curator, pricing art.

“I’ve a brilliant little brother myself.” He considered me for a moment. “Not all of us are talented. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, but I do trust your taste.”

I blinked, wondering if he knew how much I wanted him to toss me onto the nearest bed and show me how wild Scots were. “What?”

He spoke like Mr. Darcy might have to Elizabeth as he said, “You’re an art curator, and I need my collection catalogued.”

“I have a job, and I don’t think I can get away for any longer than I’ve already been,” I said, feeling equal parts disappointment and relief. This man could derail my whole life in a heartbeat.

“I’m sure I can work a deal with your boss. He can lend you to me.” A small grin spread across his lips, making me think he had already made the arrangements.

For a second, I lost the ability to breathe. I wasn’t good for him, even if I wanted him between my legs. I swallowed hard. “Wait. What’s the plan?”

He waved behind him to the door, where music floated up from downstairs. “I need you to help me classify the art in my castle.”

His house was full of treasures. Any man might see that, but I clutched my necklace and said, “Your Grace—”

“Logan,” he said, coming to stand so close that we breathed the same air.

My body warmed, and a sigh escaped my lips. I’d been careful to call him “Your Grace” even though he’d told me before to call him by his name. I only wished his name didn’t fill me with longing. “Logan, that’s a kind offer, but I don’t know. Let’s head back to the wedding.”

My eyes batted, and he inched closer.

For a moment, I closed my eyes and puckered my lips, thinking he was about to kiss me. My hairs stood on end in excitement.

However, a knock at the door made me jump back. His brother, Charlie, the groom, waved for us to follow him. “There you two are. You’re missed.”

I practically ran out the door and down the stairs. I let the Scottish men walk behind me as I jogged to the wedding party table.

Amelia’s cheeks were bright red, as if she’d had too much to drink already. Sophia was next to her, practically guarding our best friend. Meanwhile, Stephanie was radiant in her white dress. I would never be that beautiful, but that was fine. She would live the happily ever after she deserved.

Logan joined our table, along with the other groomsmen, and adrenaline rushed in my veins.

Stephanie handed me a silver cup designed for two filled with alcohol. “Time for you to drink.”

The bride had requested, so I did. I gulped, then Logan had the second cup. As Stephanie moved on, I asked, “What is that?”

Logan laughed. “Whiskey.”

My best friend was now giving out shots in her dress.

I coughed as the liquid burned a little. “Well, that’s a way to start a wedding reception.”

Logan chuckled as he took the seat beside me. Drinks were served as the waiters took people’s choices for dinner. Then Stephanie and Charlie headed to the dance floor.

Logan pushed his chair back and tapped mine. “Come. We’ll be required to dance.”

He was the best man, and I was the maid of honor, so he was right. The whole table headed to the side of the dance floor.

The bride and groom moved flawlessly. As the music changed, Logan led me to a prominent place where people might see us on the floor as the other groomsmen and bridesmaids circled the bride and groom. As his hand went around my dress, I said, “Dancing with you can lead to trouble.”

He winked at me. “Only if you’re open to it.’

I let him lead. If he asked me for one night tonight, I would not say no. But I lowered my head and shook off that nonsense. “I can’t.”

He was a duke, and I was no one. I didn’t fit in with nobility. I had no talent on my own. I didn’t have crazy money to make us equals, even if my brother was now earning more than he’d ever imagined.

As the dance ended, he let me go, and I returned to the table first. Amelia looked better because she’d eaten. Sophia was speaking to a handsome Scot she’d danced with.

Amelia whispered, “What’s going on with you and the Duke of Aindal?”

I glanced across the room and saw Logan speaking to a woman whose entire face was picture-perfect. I could never compete with the women who would pursue him. I knew it. It was better to never try. “Nothing. He wants to hire me to review his art collection.”

The waiter brought my dinner, and I sipped my water. Good manners dictated that I not touch my food until the entire table had been served, so I waited. Unlike me, Amelia had clearly needed food, and Sophia had probably insisted she eat straight away. She put her fork down on her half-finished plate. The waiter came to change her plate for her so it didn’t seem like she’d eaten at all.

“That’s it?” she asked.

“Yes.” I smiled at the server. He seemed like a younger version of Logan and Charlie.

The rest of the wedding party came to our table, and Amelia whispered to me, “His interest in you is very clear and specific, and I don’t think it includes art.”

I put my napkin on my lap then waited. “I don’t think so. He’s a duke, and I’m… odd.”

She shook her head. “You’re not.”

The four of us were all best friends who loved reading Jane Austen and living a life of Regency reenactment, creating our own realities. We were definitely odd. I shrugged. “You only say that because we have the same fandom.”

Sophia rejoined us but continued to stare at the kilted Scot who had just left her side. No one said anything, and a minute later, she said, “I should tell you. I’m considering the job offer that would take me to Pittsburgh for a year.”

Amelia’s eyes widened in shock, but I froze in my seat as my heart raced. Stephanie was married. Sophia might leave. This wedding was the end of an era. We were no longer besties who all roomed together and dressed in Regency costumes for fun.

Amelia hugged Sophia like she’d just said she had cancer. “And leave London? Miss our ten days in Bath?”

Sophia petted Amelia’s shoulder as if she were comforting a younger sibling. “No. I’d take time for Jane Austen, but it seems His Grace is back.” She winked at me. “I’ll let you go.”

What in the world did she mean by that?I had no idea, but my skin zipped as Logan took the seat next to me. I glanced over, and his smile warmed my heart and entire body. His gaze met mine, and for that moment, no one else existed.

He winked at me. “Charlotte, would you like a glass of champagne?”

I nodded, realizing a waiter was near us. “Yes, thank you.”

Logan handed me a glass, and I said, “I saw you talking to the brunette over there.”

He shrugged then squinted at me. “Yes, that’s Caroline. She’s helped me organize events for years and was invited to the wedding. Our parents intended for us to marry, but I refused.”

Ahh.The first time I’d met Logan, Stephanie had grilled him on setting boundaries with a woman named Caroline. In any real competition, the woman I’d glimpsed outshone me. I cut into my food. “She’s very beautiful.”

He put his hand on the back of my chair, and I could feel his eyes on me. “And problematic… perhaps that is something you could help me with.”

I put down my fork. The chicken was dry anyway. “Does it have to do with your collection? I haven’t decided if I can accept your offer yet.”

He whispered in my ear, “Something else. Something more personal.”

My hairs stood on end. “Oh? What?”

He traced my gloved arm, leaving me with zips of awareness, and I wished it were bare. I would be for him if he wanted. “I’d like for you to accompany me for the rest of the evening so we can get to know each other more.”

My chest rose, and my nipples perked. “Like a date?”

“Yes.” He moved his hand from the back of my chair and picked up his silverware. “She has plans, and I’d like to nip those in the bud. Would not want her to get her hopes up. I know how amorous you ladies are at weddings.”

He cocked an eyebrow, and I sincerely hoped he would find out how amorous this lady was at this wedding. My stomach shouldn’t have flipped, but it did. I let go of the fantasy and sighed. “Sure, I guess you can twirl me on the dance floor after we eat.”

He winked at me. “That should be fun. I bet we’ll fit together well.”

I thought the same thing but about being between the sheets. I chewed the chicken, and once I finished my first bite, I glanced around the ballroom. The giant room had once housed Highland lords of old, and countless numbers of his clansmen had dined here. And here we were, living proof of the distant past. While I would never be able to create art, I could appreciate when it was done well, and the art on these walls was priceless. I glanced at the handsome man next to me and whispered, “I do wish I was part of your world, Logan.”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. I knew it was just a fantasy, but tonight, I would let myself dream.

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