Page 21 of Whiskey Promises
Yet again, Zoya's boyfriend is nowhere in sight. Where the fuck is he? I scan the area, searching for him, but he isn't out there. That shouldn't piss me off, but it does. What kind of man leaves his woman to fend for herself like this?
"Are you even listening to me?" Bastian growls from behind me.
"What?"
A bark of laughter rumbles from Trystan's lips.
"Jesus Christ," Bastian sighs heavily. "First, you practically demand we have the wedding here. Then you show up two days ago, losing your mind over where we're housing everyone. Now, you're in here bugging the fuck out of me again. And yet, you haven't heard a word I said. What is up with you?"
"Nothing."
"Right. You're usually this big of a pain in my ass for no reason."
I turn to glower at him, only to find Trystan smirking at me like he knows something I don't. "What's so funny?" I grumble, crossing my arms to glare at him, too.
"You, motherfucker," he chuckles. "I've never seen you bent out of shape over a girl before."
"What girl?" Bastian asks, glancing between us. And then he growls a curse. "Son of a bitch." His eyes narrow on me. "Are we having this wedding here because of some girl?"
"What? No. Trystan is just an idiot who doesn't know what he's talking about," I say, which is only partially untrue. Trystan is an idiot, but he's got me pegged to a fucking T. "We're having the wedding here for safety reasons."
Trystan snorts softly, shaking his head.
I don't think Bastian believes me, either. But he just mutters another soft curse. "Wedding preparations are handled. I put Haven and Lucy in charge of overseeing plans. Trystan and Oliver have security handled. And the restaurant is handling catering."
"Good," I grunt. "Need help with anything?"
"Yeah, actually. We hired a new marketing person. I want her to film parts of the wedding."
"Fuck no," I growl. "The whole point of having the wedding here was to avoid it turning into a circus."
Bastian scoffs at me. "We won't turn it into a circus, and we won't film anything important or anyone in attendance. We need footage of the vineyard all set up, and shit like that."
I hesitate for a moment and then nod. "Fine. I'll run it by Nadia. Anything else?"
"Yeah. Who's the girl?"
Trystan cracks up at the question.
My future wife.
I flip them both off and stomp toward the door instead of telling them a damn thing. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Jesus Christ," I mutter,gripping the edge of the stone bar as Zoya and her dick of a boyfriend stride into the restaurant with their arms linked and their heads together later that evening. He's grinning down at her, whispering something. And she's fucking laughing up at him.
That laugh should be mine. So should her smile.
She looks like an angel in a pale blue dress, her hair in a pile on top of her head. Every inch of her has me ready to stomp across the restaurant and haul her out of his arms like I did yesterday.
Am I jealous? Fuck yeah, I am. She's mine, goddammit.
As if sensing my eyes on her, she glances up, her gaze locking with mine.
The laughter dies on her lips, her eyes going wide.
I can't resist lifting my bottle in a mock salute. Something about the way she looks at me like I'm haunting her is cute as hell. Does she have any idea that I'm the reason Nadia and Teo are getting married here instead of in LA?
Judging by the suspicious scowl on her face, yeah, she knows.
