Three Hours (Seven Series Book 5)

Austin was looming outside the door, anxiously trying to steal a glimpse. He was dressed like a classic gangster in a pinstripe suit, fedora hat, and a black mask. I pushed him back. “Get downstairs and turn on some air. Your mate is about to expire if this house doesn’t get any cooler.”

 

 

“I’m about to expire if I don’t see what she’s wearing.”

 

“Darling, suspense is the best foreplay. If you think what I’m wearing is arousing, just wait until you see Lexi.”

 

“Why does that worry me,” he muttered over his shoulder.

 

“Perhaps it should if you don’t get some cool air going. She’s already talking about cutting a hole for easy access.”

 

“Hmm,” he growled, jogging down the stairs ahead of me. “I might like that.”

 

Voices overlapped below. The party had been in swing for the past hour, but Lexi wanted to wait until all the important people were there before she made her grand entrance. She knew how important these parties were when it came to pack relations and how other Packmasters perceived Austin. But deep down, Lexi was terrified. She’d never worn anything so elegant and had spent the early part of the evening having second thoughts—afraid she’d make a fool of herself.

 

“William?”

 

A gentleman in colonial attire turned to face me. I giggled at his blue breeches and white stockings. The matching blue waistcoat had dark blue trim, and the strange part about it was how well the costume suited him. Well, except for the poufy white scarf tied around his neck.

 

“What is that thing on your neck?”

 

He touched the delicate fabric, and a grin tugged the corners of his mouth. “A cravat, m’lady.”

 

“I don’t know if I’d be calling me a lady in this outfit, but I’ll take it,” I purred. “Good thing you weren’t wearing one of those white wigs or I wouldn’t have recognized you.”

 

He gave a close-lipped smile and adjusted the white mask on his face. “I didn’t think I could pull off a wig. Shall we?” William lifted his arm for me to take and escorted me downstairs.

 

Earlier that day, I’d sat down with Austin for three hours, going over the music selection, stressing that not everyone attending was born in the same century as him. The whole purpose of a masked ball was to evoke a sense of history, so we compiled a playlist. The classical music was a given, but we livened it up with some soft rock, blues, and a few instrumental rock songs.

 

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, William drifted into the living room and out of sight. I glanced at the punch fountain in the room by the stairs. April had volunteered to refill it as needed, and what a beautiful display! Surrounding the crystal fountain were trays of chocolate-dipped strawberries, vegetables, and caviar with crackers. I’d convinced Lexi to pay for the standing tables we placed around the house, which meant moving some of their furniture into the room that connected to the heat house.

 

I nibbled on an olive and admired the costumes. Guests wore everything from ball gowns to capes. I adored how the women were dressed—from warriors to maidens. And here I was in a brothel costume sure to embarrass Wheeler.

 

A man dressed like Batman walked by me and grinned. I smiled politely but inwardly frowned as some of the younger men had chosen costumes more suitable for Halloween. I strolled to the windows and peered through the sheer curtains. Tiki torches lined the property and were affixed to the porch along the railing at a safe height.

 

“Auntie Naya?” I heard a small giggle behind me.

 

I turned around and beheld the most adorable creature. Maizy wore a vintage powder-blue dress made from delicate silk, and the front had what looked like a white apron. She clicked her black shoes together and simpered. It wasn’t customary for children to be masked at these events.

 

We walked toward the stairs so guests could help themselves at the snack tables. “You look absolutely darling. How are you feeling, baby?”

 

“Better. My mom said I could come down for a little while.” Maizy sat on the stairstep and looked through the banisters at the guests in the living room. “I think I might just sit here and watch.”

 

“Good idea,” I agreed. “The last time Alice in Wonderland went running off, she fell down a rabbit hole. Stay here and I’ll make you something to eat.”

 

I filled up a plate with fruit and cheese and handed her a punch glass.

 

She nibbled on a small cube of watermelon, her gaze traveling around the room. “Where’s Denny?”

 

“Good question,” I said. “He’s in charge of cleaning up trash and empty bottles.”

 

“Yeah, and having a blast,” Denver said peevishly from behind. “Thanks for giving me a job where I can parade around in this ridiculous costume.”

 

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