Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Right.” I roll my eyes. “Would you like a plaque on the bleeding door announcing that you own the building?”
He tips his head to the side, considering it. “Actually, yes. I would like that.”
“Skyla, I just wanted to chat for a second before I head out—”
That’s Bee’s voice, but before I turn to greet my friend, Connor’s eyes narrow behind his glasses, taking in the woman behind me.
And when I turn around, I see that Bee has gone sheet white.
Holy shite, her mystery man really was my brother. I had a feeling, but Connor had left town before their night together.
Or so I thought.
I need information.
“Bee …” I take her hand in mine, linking our fingers, but her hazel eyes are round and cling to Connor’s face. “This is my older brother, Connor. He came in from Ireland to see the show. Connor, this is Billie, my very good friend. She’s bloody brilliant.”
“Connor.” Her cheeks have flushed, and now her eyes don’t look surprised.
They look a little angry.
“Hello,” Connor says, keeping his voice mild. But I saw the look on his face when he first saw her, so I know he’s not unaffected. “Excuse us, Skyla. I’d like to have a word with your friend.”
“I’m just—”
“Come.” He takes her by the elbow and leads her out the back door. Before I can run after them, I hear someone clear their throat behind me.
And I can feel his gaze.
His.
Beckett’s. The man who sat in a seat too small for him and watched his niece with the sweetest, softest smile on his face, then watched me for the rest of the performance. His eyes on me felt like a warm blanket, cuddling me close, if that blanket was plugged into an outlet and firing off sparks.
The man who’s lived in my daydreams and regular dreams, if I’m being honest, all week.
I turn, and the smile that comes is easy because Beckett Blackwell is every cowboy fantasy I’ve ever had. Not that I really considered having cowboy fantasies before I moved to Montana. And when he smiles back at me, I fear I’ll pass out. I swear to the gods that he pulled all the oxygen from the room.
“It’s good to see you again,” he says. It seems that my tongue has been glued to the roof of my mouth. He steps closer, not close enough to let me feel his warmth, but I have to tip my head back to see his handsome face.
I want to push my fingers through his whiskers. They look soft, and my skin itches to feel his face, but I ball my hands into fists at my sides and keep my smile, trying to remain professional while praying that he can’t see that my nipples are suddenly as hard as bloody stone.
“I know Birdie was excited that the whole family came, along with her friends and their parents as well.”
Beckett nods slowly and firms his jaw. “Does that mean it’s not good to see me again?”
Of course, he paid me a compliment, and I replied with something about his niece.
I’m not good at this.
With a frown, I drop my gaze to his chest, which is eye level to me, and feel my heart skip a beat. He’s a damn brick wall. So wide and hard and I’m sure the muscles beneath that black Henley are impressive.
I can see the outline of them through the soft cotton, and I want to touch him.
I’ve never wanted to get my hands on a man the way I do this man.
The Arsehole was sexy, too, you idiot.
“It is nice to see you,” I reply and press my lips together. “I was happy when I spotted you in the audience.”
“I was honestly surprised when I discovered you own this place.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “It was a good surprise. Birdie loves you. She talks about her dance class all the time.”
“She’s a beautiful girl,” I reply with a small laugh. “So full of energy. I enjoy her very much, and she’s an excellent dancer.”
“I know there are other people here for you to talk to,” he says after his eyes take a journey over my face as if he’s memorizing me. “I won’t monopolize your time. But I will put myself out there again and ask for your number.”
Beckett is tempting. Handsome. Sinfully sexy. And if I’m being honest with myself, I want nothing more than to spend time with him. But …
“And you’re going to say no,” he continues before I can answer him. “I can see it written all over your pretty face.”
“Beckett, I—”
Before I can complete that thought, Bee comes storming through, her face flushed and eyes bright. She doesn’t make eye contact or say a word as she stomps past us, through the studio, and right out the front door.