Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Red or sparkling?” Alice asks, wrapping a towel around her head and another around her body.
“Sparkling,” Blair says.
“Anything for anyone else?” Alice smiles at me and Callen.
He folds his hands over his junk and shakes his head as I quickly dry off.
“Babe? Where are you going?” Blair rests her hands on the edge of the pool, peeking out at me.
“To get your wine,” I grumble, following Alice, who ignores me even when I’m only two feet behind her. “Forget about the wine,” I say when we reach the kitchen. “We’ll come inside and leave you two alone. You’re right. We weren’t supposed to be home.”
Alice retrieves a bottle of sparkling wine from the rack and opens the drawer to get the electric opener. “We’ve been in the pool long enough, so if anyone is getting out, it’s us.”
I take the bottle and opener from her and set it on the counter behind me, which makes her frown. “You’re off the clock.”
“So.”
“So go be with your boyfriend.”
“I’m fine.” She reaches for the bottle. “Go be with your fiancée.”
I grab her wrist to stop her. She stares at my grip on her, and I can feel her pulse against my thumb.
“Who was she?” Alice whispers. “The person you think I remind you of?”
I move my thumb in a tiny circle against her skin, against her scar. “She was the best two weeks of my life.” My heart sinks into my stomach.
“I wouldn’t tell your fiancée that.” She lifts her gaze to mine.
I release her wrist.
Alice draws in a shaky breath and takes a step back, balling her hands. “I’m sorry you miss her. The past has a way of ruining the future, but only if you let it.”
My past is staring me in the eye, daring me to acknowledge it—to acknowledge her.
I glance over her shoulder. So this is how it’s going to be? On a sigh, I brush past Alice and return to the pool. “Sorry, Blair. There’s no wine left.”
“What?” She wrinkles her nose just as I dive into the deep end. “Murphy!”
When I emerge, she scowls. “I didn’t want to get my hair wet.”
Callen watches us from the corner where he’s still covering his junk with his hands.
“Here’s your wine,” Alice says, setting a glass of wine and the rest of the bottle on the table by Blair’s towel.
“Thank you. I guess there was wine after all.” She narrows her eyes at me before climbing out of the pool. “Alice, aren’t you having wine with me? Please join me. I don’t want to drink alone.”
“Sorry, I don’t drink. Perhaps I can get a glass for Murphy.”
Blair pouts. “Murphy doesn’t drink wine. He had a friend who drank wine for breakfast and then sort of lost his mind, so it ruined it for him.”
Jesus …
I never said my friend was a “he,” and I don’t think I used the words “lost his mind.” But it doesn’t matter. Alice clearly didn’t lie about her amateur acting. She keeps a stiff upper lip, not so much as a flinch of recognition or glance in my direction.
“Maybe I can get him a beer,” she says to Blair as if I’m not in the vicinity.
“Babe, will you drink a beer?”
“I’m good, but thanks.”
“Callen?” Blair looks at him.
“No, thank you.”
“Fine.” She plops down onto the lounger and lifts her wine glass in a toast. “To me. The only one who knows how to have fun on a Friday night.”
“So how did you two meet?” I ask as Alice reenters the pool and everyone ignores Blair.
Callen immediately grabs Alice to use as a shield again, and he kisses her neck. “She was at my son’s soccer game by accident.”
“How does that happen?” Blair asks.
Alice scrapes her teeth along her lower lip and dips her chin while shaking her head. “Just something stupid. It doesn’t matter.”
“She was at the wrong field. Her nephew was playing on the field across the street,” Callen says.
Alice said she was an only child. Either she lied, or she has a nephew by marriage. Was she married? I need the truth. I gave up on knowing and walked away. But now she’s here, and not knowing is driving me fucking crazy.
“The following weekend, I saw her again at the soccer complex,” Callen says. “She was in line at the concession stand. I think I said something cheesy like, ‘Isn’t this a lucky coincidence?’ And that led to her agreeing to have dinner with me.”
Alice doesn’t look at me or anyone else. Her discomfort is palpable.
“What does your nephew think of you dating a college lacrosse coach?” I ask.
Alice offers a quick glance and a one-shoulder shrug.
“I haven’t met him. We’re not at the meeting family part of our relationship,” Callen says.
“Do you have a brother or sister, Alice?” I slant my head to the side.