Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
I shake my head. “No, not yet. I haven’t met anyone in the family except Sarah Beth, but she’s pretty special, so I have no doubt the rest of the McGuires are a blast.”
“They’re a great family. And I’m not just saying that because I’ve had three margaritas on an empty stomach.” Ashley grins as she scoots back her chair. “On that note, I’ll adjourn to the ladies room.”
I scoot my chair back. “I’ll come along. Only one margarita, but very small bladder.”
Rick nods. “My wife’s the same way. I’ll watch your drinks.”
We thank Rick and head across the room. “You’ll have to tell me the story of Bad Dog when we get back,” I tell Ashley as we go. “Drew said you’re the one to ask about it because you know how to spin a yarn.”
Ashley laughs. “I appreciate his work as a hype man. I’ll do my best, but it’s really not that exciting. It involves a fisherman, a preacher, and a dog.” She lifts her hand to one side of her mouth as she adds in a stage whisper, “Spoiler alert: the dog was bad.”
I laugh. “Sounds like the set up for a joke. I’m all ears.”
“As soon as we get back to our drinks,” Ashley promises, dashing into the women’s restroom.
I follow her, but finish before she does. After washing my hands, I step out into the hallway and pull out my phone from my purse, wanting to check and see if Drew’s sent a message updating his arrival time. Instead, I find two messages from my mom asking how I’m settling in that I decide to return later and an ad for shaping underwear.
I’m considering using the underwear ad’s discount code—what can I say, I’m a sucker for a push-up bra—when a man’s hand settles on my lower back.
I turn, expecting to see Drew, but it’s Peter, the single guy with the interested eyes. His eyes are even more interested now, and a tad red. He looks like he’s had a few too many already and it’s not quite seven-fifteen.
“Hey, I hope I didn’t scare you off,” he says, slurring his words a little. “Jumping right into talking about the singles’ scene. I just thought, from looking at you, that you’d want to know.”
I shift discreetly away from his hand, which he thankfully removes without being weird about it. “Oh yeah? Do I have that desperate single woman look about me?” I tease.
He shakes his head a little too loosely. “No, not at all. You’re just a knockout and I didn’t see a ring, so…” He lifts his hands at his sides. “But if you’ve got a boyfriend waiting for you somewhere, my apologies.”
“You should apologize,” a deep, menacing voice says from the entrance to the bathroom hallway. The voice is so ominous sounding that it takes me a beat to realize it’s coming from Drew.
I’ve never heard him sound threatening before, but he’s certainly giving out some “fuck around and find out” vibes as he steps forward, positioning himself between Peter and me. “We talked about this Peter. It’s not okay to get drunk at work functions, even if they’re off the clock. It makes you look unprofessional and hitting on my nanny before she’s had a chance to sit down isn’t cool. She’s new in town and deserves some time and space to find her footing without men breathing down her neck in bathroom hallways.”
“She’s been sitting down for half an hour,” Peter says. “It’s not my fault you’re always late.”
Drew draws his shoulders back, until he’s towering over the shorter man, and I’m worried I’ll have to step in to prevent a scene, but Peter quickly adds, “But yeah, you’re right. I should have eaten something first. I know I can’t hold my tequila. I’ll get a taxi home and call it a night. Just let me get a box for my tacos. Can’t leave without tacos.”
“No, never leave without tacos,” Drew says, his voice gentling. “And be sure to drink a couple glasses of water before bed so you’re not hungover.”
“Good idea, thanks, boss,” Peter says, lifting a hand to me in a sheepish wave. “And apologies, Tatum. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“No worries at all, and nice to meet you, Peter,” I say, waiting until he’s out of earshot to turn to Drew and say, “He didn’t overstep. You overstepped. I’m not a child, Drew. I don’t need you to protect me from cute single guys or anyone else.”
His jaw drops in surprise, but before he can speak, I step around him and make my way back to the table with my head held high.
It’s fine that Drew doesn’t want to be more than friends, but he doesn’t get to have it both ways. He can’t put me in the friend zone and get all territorial and possessive at the same time.