Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
He hadn’t felt that kind of connection with anyone before. Not even with Sharon McNally, his one-time girlfriend, a woman with whom he thought he’d had a future. Instead, she’d used him for his Hollywood connections, betrayed him, and taught him the value of no emotional entanglements.
He shook off those memories and returned to thinking about Winter. They’d tried to keep things professional, but their chemistry had been too strong to ignore. Add in the fact that she’d asked him many personal questions, and since they’d spent so much time together, in bed and out, a part of him felt like he’d revealed things to Winter, the woman, not the reporter.
He knew better, of course, and had kept his head when answering, giving her the practiced answers necessary to keep his privacy.
For a man who liked no strings, Winter had seemed like the ideal woman. She hadn’t been interested in a relationship any more than he had, and they’d agreed to keep things casual while she was in the Hamptons interviewing his team this past summer.
It was perfect.
She was perfect.
A hookup that was nothing more than a warm body in his bed. He told himself she would satisfy a need, the same as any other female he’d been involved with in the past. Except Winter had quickly become more, and Harrison didn’t know what to make of that.
True, his siblings were settling down, with the exception of Zach. But Harrison had ruled out marriage and kids for himself. Any thoughts of having his own family had been derailed by the girlfriend he’d hoped to propose to. Sharon had no problems with the notion of using the casting couch to secure better roles despite having a serious boyfriend at the time.
Winter had come into his life, and she’d been an unexpected treat, but he’d kept to the plan, and their time together came to an end when the interview had. These days, Harrison’s production work kept him busy, as did his large family, most of whom would be here tonight.
With a groan, he looked around the room. Since Winter was nowhere to be found, he focused on the event itself. The Kingston and Dare families used any excuse to raise money for charity, and tonight was no exception. The funds donated would go to Future Fast Track for foster children, the charity Aurora, married to Harrison’s brother, Nick, had founded to help kids about to age out of foster care.
The event was full, the entry fee and plate cost were high, and the décor was elaborate thanks to Harrison’s sister, Jade, the event coordinator for the Dare family Meridian Hotels. Keeping with a spooky theme, onyx and purple linens covered the tables. The centerpieces consisted of black pumpkins and white skeleton heads surrounded by long twigs, purple feathers, and similar-hued flowers. His sister had outdone herself tonight.
“What’s got you looking like a proud papa?” Dash Kingston, lead singer of the band The Original Kings, strode up to him, holding his one-year-old son, Freddie, in his arms.
“Proud brother. I was just admiring Jade’s talent,” Harrison said, adjusting his bow tie. No matter how many parties and award shows he attended, he still hated the feeling of being strangled by the damn thing.
“You’re looking uncomfortable,” Dash said with a smirk. “Who are you supposed to be, or is that penguin suit just a way to avoid putting on a costume?”
“Bond. James Bond,” Harrison said in a practiced British accent. He let his gaze skirt over the other man’s jeans and Original Kings band T-shirt. “What about you?”
“Kingston. Dash Kingston. Rock star.” Dash laughed, knowing he was bending the rules by going as himself and clearly not giving a damn. His sister, Aurora, wouldn’t give him too much of a hard time. “And this is Freddie Mercury. Give the crowd a wave,” he said to his son.
The little boy with his mother’s blue eyes, his father’s dark hair and famous dimple in one cheek, waved a chubby hand. He gripped a blow-up guitar in the other and kept knocking Dash in the head with it.
“Good job!” Dash grinned indulgently at the young toddler. “Freddie pulled off his mustache earlier. Didn’t you, little man?”
Harrison shook his head and laughed. “Freddie’s the greatest rock star ever,” he told the boy, a deliberate dig at Dash, both because his son wouldn’t understand and that’s how his and Dash’s friendship rolled.
Dash frowned at Harrison and moved the guitar that had bopped him in the nose. “Let’s go find your mom.” He leaned in so Freddie couldn’t hear. “Cassidy’s dressed as Madonna’s character from some 80s movie. She’s hot.” He chuckled and moved the guitar away from his face again. “Talk to you later, Bond.”
The boy banged his plastic instrument against his dad’s head as they strode away.
“He’s a good father,” Asher’s familiar voice said, his brother sneaking up beside him.