Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“But I’m perfectly happy without a man,” I complained.
“Just for the night,” Macy said.
“Do you approve?” I asked Dillon.
“I was a monk before I met Macy.” Dillon winked.
“You were not.” Macy found a baby sock on the couch and threw it at him.
“You don’t have to worry about your safety,” he said seriously. “Nobody in this town is gonna mess with you. Go out and have fun, if that’s what you want.”
I considered it. Maybe Macy was right. It had been a long time since I let my hair down. My life had been grief and guilt and work with a little betrayal thrown in for good measure. Now that I had moved all my belongings and changed the view out my window, maybe it was time to let loose. I had never had a one-night stand before. I understood the concept but wondered if I really had what it would take to seduce a man so quickly.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” I said.
Macy stood up, offered me her hand, and dragged me to her closet. We went all the way to the back to the clothes she hadn’t worn since Nicky had been born. Behind all the house dresses and business suits, there was a little black dress that fit me perfectly. I examined myself in the mirror, twisting and turning to try to get a look at my butt.
“It looks great!” Macy clapped. “Now, let me throw something on, and we’ll get out of here.”
It seemed like I was committed. I left Macy alone to change and found Dillon watching television. He nodded appreciatively, like he thought I was pretty but not much of a competition for football. I waited patiently until Macy emerged, dressed in one of her sexier work outfits. It was a blue dress that stopped right below the knee. The sides were fitted and the neckline low. If you didn’t know any better, you might think it had been designed for an evening on the town.
She stopped to kiss Dillon on the top of his head. “Thanks for watching the kids.”
“Home by midnight,” he said, as if this was a well-established ritual.
We hopped into her car and drove ten minutes to a local bar. It was right across the street from a fancy hotel, a picture of a buxom woman with a pint in her hand painted on the glass. Macy pushed the door open and walked in, immediately absorbed into a world of music and laughter. I followed quietly, trying to summon my inner party child. It had been years since I kicked loose like this, hitting up clubs late at night. I was much more comfortable with a book and a cup of coffee or a jog along a well-lit path.
I was here on a mission, I reminded myself. I was going to snag a man. I was going to take that man to the hotel or the back seat of a car in the parking lot and have an orgasm. That was a critical component, so I would need to choose my bed partner carefully. Not just any willing penis would do—he would have to have some skills. I couldn’t believe such naughty thoughts were running through my head. Was I already drunk? In all likelihood, the experiment wouldn’t work, and I would return to Macy’s cabin before midnight to sleep alone in the laundry room.
I straightened my skirt, determined to give it my best shot.
“There’s a guy.” Macy grabbed my elbow, half whispering, half yelling over the music.
I looked where she was pointing. A man stood alone at the bar, a white T-shirt barely concealing washboard abs. The cut of his silhouette was so masculine, I wondered why he was single. Sandy hair spiked above chiseled cheekbones. Half an inch of stubble dusted his chin, and I had an overwhelming desire to rub my fingertips along it. I could imagine the soft sandpaper feel, the heat of skin against skin. This was definitely the guy.
Before I could stop her, Macy slid right up to him and asked him to buy us a drink. She smiled her brightest mother-of-the-bride smile and turned to me.
“This is my cousin Tammy,” Macy said. “She’s new in town.”
“Hi, Tammy,” the man said, catching on quickly. “What are you drinking?”
“I’ll take a bottled beer,” I said shyly.
“Not a wine drinker?” he guessed.
“Oh, I’ve been known to drink wine, and occasionally tequila shots, but my favorite is beer.” I stepped up to the bar where Macy made room.
“Tequila?” he asked, intrigued.
“If it’s a special night,” I said.
He signaled the bartender. “Two shots of tequila.”
The man behind the bar frowned and went back to serving another customer. Macy leaned over the counter to get his attention. “Three shots of tequila,” she ordered.
The bartender came right over, smiling brightly. “Good evening, Macy. How are the kids?”