Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 135539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
“I thought I had more time!”
“You forgot, didn’t you?”
“Shit.” It really was more a “pretend I don’t have to and it will go away” thing, but . . . details.
“Mom and Dad are hella pissed. I’m surprised they haven’t called you.”
Note to self: Don’t answer the phone again without looking at who’s calling.
“So . . .” March drawls with far too much glee. “Whatcha doing?”
“Driving to rescue Pen. She’s already in the clutches of the Wonder Twins.”
“Jaysus, no. She’s doomed.”
Fucking hell. “I know!”
“How the fuck did they get to LA so fast?”
“Man, I don’t know.” I had assumed they were safely in Boston attending classes. Shows what I know about my sisters.
“Doesn’t matter. They’ve invaded your territory.”
“Not helping, March.”
“The real question is, why are you wasting time talking to me? Go save your girl, asshat.”
“On it.” I hit End and punch the gas.
At the next stop sign, a slow-moving delivery robot toddles along. The thing takes forever to get back up on the sidewalk. As soon as it does, I’m off again, hunching forward as if the action can somehow get me there faster.
Finally—finally—the turn into Pen’s driveway appears. Thankfully she already gave me the code and a key.
Now that I’m here, I approach with caution, parking the Grouch on the far side of the carport instead of in a garage. Stealth is needed. I want to find Pen before my sisters find me.
Anxiety for Pen has my fingers twitching and heart pumping. Sneaking around the side path, I send her a text.
LuvGod: I’m here. Where do you want to meet?
It takes a second, then she answers.
Sweets: Bedroom
Now is not the time to make innuendo. Oh, but I want to. Anything other than contemplating my upcoming conversation with The Sisters. Fuck, but they’re terrifying. The only thing worse would be my mother. Don’t tempt fate that way, asshole. Quickly, I cross myself.
LuvGod: I’ll be there in a sec. Sneaking in now
A couple of dots spring up on the screen but then disappear. I’m going to guess she’d rather ream me out in person. Silently, I move past the side yard and toward the pool where I can sneak into the bedroom via the back door. The sound of feminine laughter has me halting. Okay, they’re by the pool.
I switch course and return to the front door. Inside, it’s cool and quiet. The house already smells of Pen—a faint smokey sweetness. Her perfume? Scented body lotion? I want to find out.
Later. Focus, Luck.
Getting to her bedroom is tricky, given that the entire back of the house is a wall of windowed doors that open to the veranda and the pool just beyond. On stealthy feet I move, low and quiet. A quick glance has me relaxing a little. From what I can tell, they’re sitting under the stone pergola at the far end of the pool, which takes me out of their direct sight line. With that in mind, I book it down the hall.
On my heels comes the sound of Pen’s voice. “Anyone want anything?”
“Chips!” May cries.
“And dip!” from June.
I roll my eyes and slip into the bedroom, slowly pulling the drapes across the set of French doors facing the patio and pool.
Pen scrambles in a second later, closing the door and leaning against it like she’s been chased by wild dogs. “August!”
I close the distance between us in two steps and wrap my arms around her. Pen jolts as though surprised but then relaxes against me with a sigh. For a moment, I don’t think about anything other than how good she feels: soft and warm and delicate. The back of her neck, where I cup it, is hot and damp, and I know she’s been stressing.
“Pen,” I murmur, pressing my lips to the top of her head, and smell the sunlight in her silky hair. “I’m sorry.”
At that, she gently but firmly steps from my hold. I mourn the loss but let my arms drop and run a hand through my hair to keep from reaching for her. If I touch her again, I’m going to be angling for a kiss. She was very clear about how that will be received.
More to the point, she deserves to be treated with honest intentions. I’d been sending mixed messages and leaving her uncertain how to act. That isn’t cool. Maybe later I’ll think about how bad this is for my heart. For now, I take the moment to fully look at Pen, because it’s been a whole day and, sisters or not, I’ve missed her.
God, but she’s cute. She’s wearing a retro white-and-yellow flower print bathing suit. With her swerving curves and slim legs, she could be a classic pinup girl. My head goes a little muzzy at the way her breasts swell upward as if fighting to break free of the suit. They look so plump and soft. I could rest my head there and . . .