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I wasn’t supposed to fall for my sister’s wedding planner.
But a hot Scot who always wore a kilt – and wasn’t into women?
Yeah, that had my name written all over it.
Why, you ask?
Oh, because I always go for the wrong kind of guy.
But then he started acting all flirty, and a late night of menu planning, coupled with an unexpected kilt mishap…let’s just say, the lifelong mystery of what a Scot wears beneath his kilt…solved.
Hey, why can’t a strait-laced financial advisor have a little kilt free—err I mean guilt free—fun?
Let me tell you why.
Because he was sweet and kind, protective and supportive, and my stupid heart got involved.
But then I discovered the hot Scot wasn’t at all who I thought he was, and that sometimes, sadly, the bridesmaid can’t have her cake and eat it too…
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