Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
This was a massive miscalculation on my part. My fingers brush against his arm—skin to skin—something that I take huge precautions to avoid. His eyes turn a bold green as he holds completely still. I pull away. Out of necessity.
“What’s Sara up to today?” he asks, fighting a smile.
A flare of jealousy streaks through me. “I don’t know. Why?”
“You said she was a bad influence. I just wondered if something happened. If she was causing mayhem.”
There’s a sparkle in his eyes that makes my stomach flip-flop.
“Sara’s always up to something,” I say, studying him.
He knows I’m onto him because he smiles. Big.
What? What does that mean?
He glances at his watch. “Shit. I have to run. I have a couple looking at a beachfront condo in thirty, and I’m probably going to be late.”
“Better hurry.”
“I’ll see you later. You look smokin’ today, by the way.”
He jogs back to his Jeep before I can respond and takes off.
My head is swimming as I climb into my car and head back to Rebecca’s. Something was off about Maddox.
What was it?
For a split second, I consider that he might’ve seen my post on Social. But he’s never online. He’s online less than I am, and I’m never logged in. And, sure, his brothers have Social accounts, and I suppose they could’ve seen it. But we never interact there. So what are the odds that my post popped up for them? It’s not like it went viral or anything.
I turn onto Rebecca's street and let my mind wander. What would it be like to take Maddox with me?
He’d swim with pigs. We’d laugh the entire time. He probably wouldn’t shut up on the plane, but I could live with that.
And his hands, dripping with sunscreen, running down my back …
I shiver as I park the car.
After gathering my bags, I head to the door—still trying to pull my head out of my daydream.
“How was your day?” Rebecca asks from the couch as soon as I walk in. “Did you get anything done?”
“Yeah. Hang on,” I say as I haul ass to my room. I deposit the heavy bags on my bed.
I sigh and then go back into the living room, still confused by Maddox.
“I had a very … terse conversation with Eton’s mom, Ester, today about this crystal bowl that her mother got me for the wedding,” I say. “I really think Ester picked it out and wanted it but whatever.”
“What’s so special about a bowl?”
“It’s crystal and sits on this pink crystal stand. Thing. I don’t know. It cost almost a thousand dollars.” I grin. “Want to know how I know?”
“How do you know?”
“Because Ester accidentally sent me a link for it a week after we got it.” I roll my eyes. “She just wanted me to know it was expensive because that’s how that whole family is. It’s all about the money.”
Rebecca makes a face. “What did you do with it?”
“Well …” I bite my lip to keep from smiling as I sit beside her. “I wrapped it up nicely and had it sent to Eton’s grandma with tracking and insurance. Mostly because I didn’t feel right keeping it, but also just so Ester would have to ask her for it if she wanted it. And they don’t get along.” I shrug. “Petty, I know, but Ester told me I better not gain too much weight before the wedding if I don’t want to look like a porker. I figure she had it coming.”
She gasps. “Are you freaking kidding me?”
“I wish.”
The door swings open, and Sara sashays in. She kicks it closed with a red heel.
After a groan and exaggerated sigh, she sets a shopping bag and an oversized leisure tote beside the couch. “Girls, it’s been a day.”
“In red heels,” Rebecca says.
Sara holds a finger in the air. “Watch it, Becca. I got you a present and I won’t give it to you if you’re mean.”
“You got me a present?” Rebecca’s eyes light up. “Why?”
“Because I love you, and I immediately thought of you when I saw this last week. I just forgot to bring it over.” She hands her the bag. “Here.”
Rebecca’s bottom lip quivers as she pulls a cornsilk-blue dress out of the bag. She stands and holds it to her body. “Sara …” She turns the tag over in her hand and then drops it like it’s on fire. “No. That’s … No. You spent that on this dress?”
“I got it on sale as far as you’re concerned. Take it. I want you to have it. I love you but don’t make this mushy.” She tosses a strand of hair out of her eyes. “We have other things to discuss, and I can’t be emotional.”
I snort. Rebecca and I exchange smiles. Under that detached exterior, Sara is such a sweetheart.