Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Brooke barked out a laugh. “Ew, no, he does not. There’s nothing bad.”
“So what is it that has you avoiding eye contact with me and lying there all tense when you should be relaxed and sucking back your margarita?”
She sighed. “You’re like a dog with a bone sometimes. You know that?”
With a smirk, Nancy said. “I prefer to call it tenacious. Now spill.”
“Fine,” Brooke grumbled. Then she passed a hand over her mouth as she said, “He’s stayed every night sinceSunday.”
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Nancy inclined her head. “Couldn’t hear you. Your hand was like, blocking your mouth. Almost as though you didn’t want me to hear something.” Her lips quirked. Smug bitch was enjoying the hell outta this.
Brooke rolled her eyes. “God, you’re annoying. He’s stayed here every night since Sunday. There. Are you happy?” Admitting it out loud had her stomach twisting with the stupidity of her actions.
Nancy clapped her hands as she bounced on the chair. “Happy? Yes, Brookie, I’m ecstatic! Brookie has a boyfriend!” she sang in the most obnoxious way possible. “A hot as fuck, bad boy, growly boyfriend.” Now her eyebrows were waggling.
Glaring at her friend, Brooke shook her head. “No. I do not. There is no boyfriend,” she said, mimicking Nancy’s tone. “I’m forty-one, not fifteen. There’s just excellent sex that’s been a long time coming. I’m finally enjoying a hot sex life, that’s all.” A hot sex life and night spent falling asleep in Curly’s arms. Breakfasts together. Sunsets by her pool. Sharing of life stories.
Ugh, she was screwed.
She picked up her margarita. After a long sip where she avoided looking at her friend, she finally glanced in Nancy’s direction. “Seriously. Sex. That’s it.”
“You, honey, are full of shit,” Nancy said with complete conviction. “You’ve mentioned him about two thousand six hundred and seventy-three times, and each time you say his name, these little hearts float above your head. It’s quite sickening.” She pressed her lips together in a failed attempt to keep her smirk under control.
Brooke pulled the lime wedge off the rim of her margarita glass and threw it at her friend. “You need therapy.”
Laughing, Nancy managed to dodge the flying fruit. “That’s a separate issue, which has nothing to do with your heart emoji face. Let’s stick with one topic at a time.”
With a roll of her eyes, Brooke said, “Okay, fine. Bottom line, I like him a lot. He’s intelligent, funny, a little rough around the edges, and, well, you have eyes. He’s hot as Hades. The sex is off the charts, and I enjoy his company.”
Understatement of the century. She found herself wanting to be in his presence all the time, which was why she forced herself to set limits on their time spent together. Soft limits, clearly, as he’d spent every damn night in her bed.
“I fail to see the problem here,” Nancy said with a frown. “Sound like perfect boyfriend material to me.”
“The problem is that I’m not interested in having a boyfriend.” The word tasted bitter on her tongue. “Now or ever. I’ve played that game before, given up my independence, made myself vulnerable, and I came out of it as a weak, pathetic woman I didn’t even recognize anymore.” She shuddered. “Never again.”
With a glare a parent might give a petulant child, Nancy rose. “This conversation is not finished, but we need more margaritas, and I need to put something on this mosquito bite on my ankle before I start scratching my skin off.”
Ahh, saved by the blood-sucking insect. She’d take it. “There’s a stick of bug stuff in my kitchen junk drawer. The one next to the dishwasher.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” Nancy blew her a kiss as she sauntered off toward the house, completely comfortable strolling around in her bright blue bikini. Not that she shouldn’t be. Her athletic body was the envy of women everywhere. With her tanned skin and bleach-blond hair, she was the picture of a Florida native. “Be back in a jiff. Don’t run away. I’ll track you down.” She pointed to Brooke with a perfectly manicured pale pink nail.
The second she disappeared into the house, Brooke blew out a breath. A moment of reprieve. She’d invited Nancy over to keep her distracted while Curly’s men were at the dog fight. All day, she’d been dreading these hours where the guys would potentially be in danger. She liked them, the men who would make up the motorcycle club. Though brash and a little unruly, they already seemed loyal to Curly and a close-knit group. With any luck and some time, those bonds would strengthen, turning them into a true brotherhood. A family. Exactly what Curly wanted.
A pang of something she refused to call jealously hit dead center in her chest. It’d been a long time since she had family to count on, blood-related or chosen. Sure, Nancy and Daniel were close friends, but they were married and had their own families she wasn’t a part of. Though they always invited her, she’d spent holidays alone since leaving her husband. Crashing her friends’ family gatherings because she had none of her own never sat right with her. Witnessing the closeness of siblings, aunts, uncles, and parents as they laughed and shared stories she couldn’t relate to sounded more like a root canal than holiday merriment.