Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 120838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 604(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 604(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
High, wedge espadrilles on my feet. Hair down in beachy waves. Makeup two steps up from casual day, three down from nighttime drama. Gold hoops, a bangle, a thick ring with a big white, oblong stone in the center on the middle finger of my left hand. And a camel, Dior saddlebag as my purse.
Davi’s eyes grew huge as she stared at me.
“I’m used to going out in New York,” I explained.
And not with hot, ex-professional rugby players who kissed like a dream and saw a me I did not see.
“Blake, ye always look great,” Davi said. “Tonight, perfect for a mountain-town date with my big brother.”
“Sure?” I asked.
Something moved over her face, and she came to me.
Slinging an arm around my shoulders, she led me to the door, saying, “I need a drink, and ye need to let my brother drink ye in wearing that outfit. You look perfect and he’s not going to be able to keep his hands off ye.”
“We have a lot to talk about before any of that,” I noted awkwardly.
She stopped us in the hall. “Ye ken your ex was the wanker to beat all wankers, except for maybe my father.”
“Uh, yeah, I ken that,” I replied.
She grinned.
But it didn’t last long.
“I was at that wedding-not-wedding, Blake. I was proud of you, even if it wasn’t my place to be. It gutted me all the same. That said, ye were always snooty, like your mother, but ye could be funny. After that happened, ye found yourself, and I won’t give that wanker the credit, but he sure led you to the right path. Dair was once-bitten, a thousand times shy. I haven’t seen him this into a woman since Signe. And we all know his dick was more into her, literally and figuratively, than his brain was.”
I let out a startled laugh at her brutal honesty.
I also thought about the woman I’d met briefly at their wedding, and had disliked intensely, and I did that immediately. She was crass and obvious. And the way she took so much time to arrange her hair, body and expression anytime a camera was anywhere near her gave me a sinking feeling.
“You found you, be that you,” Davi went on. And now I got a saucy grin from her. “Dair obviously likes it.”
This was very true.
He obviously did.
I wasn’t sure how or why, but he did.
I nodded.
She guided me downstairs in my own house.
And when we hit the living room and Dair turned to me, the look on his face…
Oh yes.
He liked me.
My nerves instantly settled (but other parts of me came alert).
He walked my way, his eyes roaming all over me, but when he took my hand, they rose to mine.
“Ready?” he asked.
Was I?
That kiss said yes.
His speech about my cake said yes.
The way his eyes just roamed all over me also said yes.
My head screamed no.
But my mouth said, “I’m ready.”
Dair turned us to the living room where Dad and Kenna were sitting on the sofa, enjoying a cocktail, and Davi was at the bar mixing herself one.
“Don’t be out too late, kids,” Davi bid.
“Enjoy yourselves,” Kenna said.
I looked to Dad. “Dinner is—”
He didn’t move an inch, except his mouth. “Darling, I’ve read your detailed instructions. I can heat up an oven and put a lasagna in it.”
“Ooo we’re having lasagna?” Davi asked excitedly.
That day, while I helped Chloe at the shop, then came home and cooked, Davi and Kenna spent the day in Jerome, thus she didn’t know the evening’s menu.
“The garlic bread—” I began.
“Go,” Dad urged.
Dair tugged my hand.
Time to go.
I went with him.
He guided me down the steps, opened the car door, helped me in, then closed it.
Okay.
Good kisser.
Add one (a big one, so big, it was more like ten).
Loved my cooking, showed it and thought it worthwhile.
That was two.
Didn’t get turned off when I was being snotty, which happened a lot.
And we were at three.
Didn’t bolt when I threw a strawberry, or I yelled at my father.
Now four.
Didn’t paint me with the same brush as my mother after that crazy scene at the wedding, and the fallout.
Up to five.
Opened my car door for me.
And six.
Boy, he sure was racking up the points.
We were on our way before he broke the silence. “Have a good day?”
“Yes,” I said formally. “You?”
“Not sure your father is best pleased with me considering I walloped him at golf.”
Oh dear.
“Dad’s particularly proud of his golf game.”
“I bought the drinks after.”
“Well then.” I didn’t know what else to say.
I knew nothing about golf. I wanted to know nothing about golf. Except Dad liked to play it and he took every opportunity to improve his game.
“Lasagna?” he asked, his tone lightly teasing.
“Dad grills. That’s all he does. Someone had to feed your family.”
“My mum cooks and there’s a town full of restaurants,” he pointed out.