Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Toffee Twist is yours,” I say bluntly.
“What the fuck?” he asks, laughing his way through the question. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I take a second to acknowledge the server with a nod when he drops off a small white box I know contains the treat I can’t wait to put into Summer’s hands. “Give me a minute,” I whisper so I can finish my conversation with my brother before I settle up for the night.
He politely takes off, leaving me alone.
“Give you a minute for what?” James jumps to the conclusion that I was talking to him.
“That wasn’t meant for you,” I tell him succinctly, not bothering to explain where I am or who I was talking to.
“I’m bouncing off the walls here, Holden. Are you saying you worked out a deal with Tim?” The volume of his voice rises slightly. “Did you buy his company?”
“We shook on it,” I explain, so he knows exactly where we’re at in the buying process. “I don’t foresee any issues, though. Toffee Twist is now part of the Carden empire.”
“Jesus, Holden.” His voice breaks. “Was this your plan all along? Did you go to East Hampton this weekend to work this out?”
If I dive into the details now, I’ll be stuck talking to him for the next hour. That’s time I’d much rather spend with Summer. “I’ll stop by your place tomorrow night once I’m back in the city. I’ll explain everything then.”
“Fine. Good,” he spits both words out quickly. “I’m over the fucking moon here. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
That’s why I made it happen.
I don’t tell him that as I wave the server back over. “I need to go, James. Kiss your boy for me and get some sleep.”
“Will do,” he says. “You’re the best, Holden.”
That’s all the thanks I need. My brother’s admiration was something I longed for when we were estranged from each other. I’ll never take it for granted again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Greer
Wrapping my short silk robe around me, I rush down the stairs toward the front door.
What I thought was a light knock less than a minute ago has now turned into an incessant press of someone’s finger on the doorbell. Hoping that I’m right in my assumption that Joe is waiting for me on the other side of the door, I smile as I reach the bottom of the stairs.
A quick run of my palm over my hair is all I need to do before I race to the door and stop dead in my tracks. “Who is it?”
“You know who it is.” Joe laughs. “Let me in. I have this chocolate dessert thing for you.”
“You brought me dessert?” I ask as I lean against the door.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he says in a tone I can barely make out. “You knew I’d come back tonight.”
After unlocking the door, I open it swiftly. “I didn’t know that.”
His gaze travels up and down my body. “Tell me you’re naked under that.”
I do one better. I show him. With a quick tug, the sash of the robe gives way, and it falls open.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You get cake later. I want you now.”
Stunned by the need in his voice, I can only nod in acknowledgement.
In one effortless movement, he drops the box in his hand on the foyer table, deposits his eyeglasses next to it, and wraps his hands around my waist.
He gives the door a kick with his shoe, sending it flying shut with a thud. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left you earlier.”
“But, you had work to do,” I say coyly as he plants a trail of light kisses over my neck.
“I got done what needed to be done.” His gaze finds mine. “Now, I get to do what I’ve wanted to all night.”
“What’s that?” I ask, knowing that whatever it is, I’m going to enjoy it a hell of a lot.
He pushes me back a step and then another. “What do you think?”
I stare at him as he continues marching me backward. I want to remember him forever, so I catalog the shape of his eyes and the slope of his forehead in my memory. I’ll never forget the fullness of his lips or how it felt when he kissed me.
Suddenly, I feel the large dining table behind me. Before I can protest, he’s hauled me up by my waist so I can sit on the table.
“Lean back,” he orders, pushing a finger lightly into the center of my chest.
I sprawl my hands out as I carefully lower my back to the table.
His fingertip never leaves my skin. He runs it over my hardened left nipple before it glides down the center of my body toward my core.
With his gaze still locked on mine, he yanks my ass to the very edge of the table before he drops to his knees.