Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
It’s like high school all over again. Sadie and Eden were the mean girls back then, and it appears they’re even meaner girls now.
Sadie: Devereaux Huxley ended up dating the detective who worked on that case. What was her name?
Eden: Chloe Bardot. She went undercover as a Greedy Girl. Some women have all the luck.
I roll my eyes and shut off the water. “They’re in love, unlike you two losers.” I jerk the shower door open and stalk across the bathroom tiles to the vanity where my phone plays the podcast.
Sadie: So, the question remains, is the Delgado Family guilty of extortion, or is it all a big misunderstanding? And will Greer Huxley be in over her head with this one?
Water droplets fall on my phone screen as I jab a finger to the glass, cutting off the podcast. “Bye, bitches.”
“That seems harsh,” someone says in a low, domineering voice.
I scream, spinning around to land a wet foot into the crotch of a tall body. And then I’m gone like the wind, sprinting past the claw-foot tub, right out of the bathroom. Adrenaline races through my veins as I haul ass through my ridiculously large house toward the front door.
My mind tries to remember details of the intruder but only black clothes and a black ball cap surface. Great, no description if I survive.
I dash down the hallway and make it half-way through the living room when I hear them shout, “Greer! Wait.”
As soon as I hear that deep voice, I freeze in my tracks.
“Greer, it's me.”
Words fail me as I turn to see Roman standing in the outskirts of the living room. Holding the white towel I left behind. His baby blues sweep over my breasts, down to my bare…
“What the hell?” I screech, snatching a large pillow off the couch to cover my private parts. “What are you doing here, Roman?”
“Well, this didn’t go as planned.” He averts his gaze and walks closer, offering me the towel.
I yank it from his fingers and wrap it around me. Not that it matters, since he’s seen the goods. “You gave me a heart attack.”
“Same,” he says. “Where did you learn that ninja move? Impressive, especially naked.”
I’m sure my skin is as red as the roses on my coffee table. “Chloe’s self-defense classes.”
It would please my brother’s girlfriend to know I followed her instructions precisely as she instructed. Except I can’t tell her because she’s my brother’s girlfriend and he’ll find out that his best friend saw me in the buff.
“Ah.” He adjusts the brim on his cap. “I guess the more important question is, do you always talk back to the people on the podcast?” Amusement twinkles in his blue eyes.
I hold a hand up, palm facing him. “I’ve got a busy morning, so tell me why you were skulking around my bathroom while I was in the shower.”
“First, skulking? Is that a word? Second, I had no idea you’d be in the shower. Third, I heard you yelling at those women, and I just kind of became entranced, not knowing you’d barrel out of there naked.”
I tilt my head. “You thought I’d step out of the shower fully dressed and ready to go?”
His white teeth rake across his plump bottom lip, and I swear he looks like he’s trying not to laugh.
“This is not funny, Roman.”
“Not even a little? You said ‘Bye, bitches.’ That’s pretty funny.”
What comes out of me is between a “humph” and an “argh” as I power past him and stomp down the hardwoods to my bedroom. “I don’t have time for games. I’m due in the office soon.”
He follows me down the hallway. “You need better security.”
I stop at my bedroom door and turn to him. “Clearly.”
He holds his arms out wide. “I’m your man.”
There was a time in my life where I wished I could hear Roman utter those words for real, but not anymore. Long ago, I put the fairytale of Roman and I ending up together out of my head. Mostly. There’s one tiny ray of hope that I’ve tucked away in the darkest corner of my mind, but I’ve locked it up tight so it can’t escape.
“You’re not a security person.” I head into my bedroom and he follows me.
“Trust me. I’m your guy.”
He really needs to stop saying that, because the little piece of hope is banging on the door with all its might, trying to escape. And that just can’t happen. He’s my brother’s best friend. He’s my friend. We’re not meant to be.
“You’re a millionaire, many times over. You don’t need a job.”
“Every man needs to work. I can’t just be a pretty face, ya know?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “How did you get into my house?”
He props a hip against my dresser and crosses his arms, inked forearms flexing as he does. “You need a better security system. Look how easy it was for me to break in. Means you’re not safe, Greer.”