Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Chapter Two
Ben
“What’ll it be, Ben?” one of my favorite bartenders, Leanna, asks.
“Like you have to ask.”
She shoves a lowball glass filled with two fingers of Wild Turkey at me with a smile. “You never know when it might be something else.”
I give her a wink.
The Stargazer is a little hole in the wall in downtown Boston. It’s my own little secret. There’s always a seat at the bar for me.
“You meeting someone?”
I nod. “Braden’s fiancée’s maid of honor. She and I need to put together bachelor and bachelorette parties for the happy couple.”
“You’re doing it on your own? No party planner?”
“Braden rented out this private resort near Ocho Rios, Jamaica. It’s big enough that we can have both parties there, and yeah, they have a planner, but I feel like I should be involved. Best-man duties and all.”
“Will you be able to get a stripper?”
I let out a chuckle. “Braden doesn’t want a stripper.”
She laughs heartily. “That’s what they all say.”
I nod, grinning.
I’ve already looked into getting a stripper. If my big brother thinks he’s getting out of bachelorhood that easily, he can think again. It’s going to be a proper party. Not just one stripper, but several.
I glance at my watch. Tessa’s late. I would’ve been okay with planning over the phone, but Skye asked me to try to get Tessa to meet with me in person. She’s had a hard time of it, and Skye thinks she needs to get out more.
I don’t know that I agree with pressuring Tessa to leave her place if she doesn’t want to, but Skye knows her better than I do and—
I jerk to attention when a woman sits down next to me.
It’s Tessa.
And it may sound cliché, but the woman takes my breath away.
I’ve seen photos of her. She’s a knockout for sure. But in person?
Man, photography doesn’t do her justice. Even the photos taken by Skye herself—and she’s an amazing photographer. Skye’s become a major influencer, largely due to the fact that she started dating my brother, but in short order, people recognized her for the talent that she is. Spectacular images.
But not when it comes to her best friend. Skye’s camera didn’t capture the subtle freckle on Tessa’s lower lip, the way her hair catches the light with plum more than mahogany highlights, the lovely warmth of her light tan complexion.
Tessa is wearing black leggings and a blousy black tunic. Black sandals on her feet, and her toes are unpolished.
Not that I would normally notice such a thing, but most of the women that I come across—except for Apple Ames, my ex-friend-with-benefits—have freshly manicured toes.
But what’s more noticeable than the lack of polish on her toes is the sheer beauty of them. I’m no fetishist when it comes to feet, but Tessa Logan has the most beautiful pair I’ve seen.
Once I’ve noticed her bottom half, I look up, into her eyes.
I’ve never been serious about a woman in my life, and I’ve always gone for a hot body over a pretty face.
But Tessa’s eyes…
They’re large, dark, and long-lashed… And my God…
They look so fucking sad.
A wave of empathy surges through me, and it almost makes me shiver. It’s an odd feeling—a foreign feeling. I know what Tessa’s been through, and in this moment, I would move heaven and earth to get that look of pure remorse and resignation off her beautiful face forever.
Those beautiful eyes were meant to show happiness, excitement, love.
“Thanks for coming, Tessa.” I hold out my hand. “I’m Ben Black.”
“I know you are.”
Leanna places a cocktail napkin in front of Tessa. “What can I get for you?”
“Just some sparkling water, please.”
According to Skye, Tessa’s favorite drink is a margarita. But also according to Skye, her assailant, Garrett Ramirez, laced alcohol with ketamine, which nearly cost Tessa her life.
I imagine she’s purposely staying away from booze.
“So…” I begin. “I thought we should, you know, talk about our plans for the respective parties. Make sure they can both happen on the same premises without any issues.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
Even her voice sounds sad. She taps her fingers on the wooden bar. Her nails are also not polished, but her hands are shapely and beautiful, with long fingers and oval nails cut short, filed smooth. She doesn’t wear a watch or bracelet or any other jewelry. Her hair falls in gentle waves around her shoulders and midway down her back.
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re planning?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Just the usual stuff. We’ll shower her with gifts.”
“No strippers?”
She turns and meets my gaze for the first time. “No. I don’t want any men there.”
“Is that what Skye wants?”
Her gaze narrows. “Yeah. She specifically told me that she and Braden don’t want strippers.”
I chuckle under my breath.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, nothing.”
She raises her eyebrows. “You’re going to have a stripper at the bachelor party, aren’t you?”