Deirdre felt the weight of almost a dozen pairs of eyes on her. Even Wyatt was looking at her, and she suddenly had the urge to run to a bathroom and check her reflection. But she’d done that at least ten times before Wyatt had arrived at her house.
Her hair was perfectly curled and fell over her shoulders in blonde waves. She wore makeup, but not too much. Tasteful makeup. She’d put on a dress, which was a huge tell for how much she liked Wyatt and wanted to impress his family.
But the truth was, families were not something Deirdre was very good with. She’d ruined her relationship with her mother because of her devotion to Dalton, following him all over the country, moving every time he got a little too friendly with a woman in his office.
And of course, it wasn’t like she spoke to her
