Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“And he swam right by.” She moves her arms as if she’s swimming the breaststroke.
Hearty laughter bubbles out of me. “Thanks for the reminder, Eloise.”
“So maybe Hot Dad isn’t the one for you.” She winks. “There is a man somewhere in Manhattan dreaming about kissing a woman just like you. All we have to do is find him.”
I point at the locked door of the store. “You can head out on that search alone.”
“If you come with me, I’ll treat you to a glass of lemonade with a little splash of gin in it.” Her brows lift. “I did just make a cool hundred bucks on a sweater.”
Shaking my head, I smile. “One drink and I’m buying, but only if you promise you won’t try and set me up with anyone.”
She studies me for a second. “I can live with that. Let’s go.”
Eloise led me straight to the same bar I went to with Berk last week.
Tonight there are a lot more people. I suspect that has to do with the fact that there’s a hockey game on every big screen TV.
Just as we’re taking our seats, the room erupts in cheers and applause when a goal is scored.
Eloise glances around as she settles in a chair at a table in the middle of all the action. “We just walked into man central.”
My gaze darts to the left and then the right. I spot a few women, but she’s right. The majority of the patrons are men. “We can go somewhere else.”
“No way in hell.” She laughs as she slips out of her jacket. “We both need a drink, and being hit on is always fun.”
I follow her lead and take off my jacket, placing it on one of the vacant chairs at our table. “What makes you think we’re going to be hit on?”
Her gaze drifts to something beyond my shoulder. “The gorgeous guy coming our way.”
I don’t bother to steal a glance because I hear him clearing his throat before he’s suddenly standing next to our table.
Eloise glances up at him. “Hi.”
I look up to find an attractive man wearing jeans and a hockey jersey. His blond hair is a mess, but it somehow makes him cuter than he might be if he had styled it into place.
“Hello, beautiful ladies.” He extends a hand into the air in front of him. “I’m here to buy you both a drink.”
Eloise grabs his hand and gives it a soft shake. “I’m Eloise, and this is my cousin…”
“We’re good here,” I interrupt her. “You don’t need to buy either of us a drink.”
“But he wants to.” Eloise stares at me while still holding tightly to the guy’s hand. “I, for one, appreciate the gesture. It tells me that he’s a gentleman.”
It tells me that he wants inside Eloise’s panties.
I glance up to find him staring at her.
“I’ll have a cosmopolitan,” Eloise says before she looks in my direction. “Astrid will have a lemonade and gin.”
Shaking my head, I smile. There is no way out of this now. This guy, and likely a friend or two of his, will sit down at our table and spend the next hour trying to charm us into some late night fun.
“Let me grab those drinks and my friend.” He looks to the left before he waves his hand in the air, summoning someone to come over. “I’m Heath.”
Eloise finally lets go of him. “It’s nice to meet you, Heath. Thank you for the drinks. We both appreciate it.”
She appreciates it more than I do, but I nod along in agreement because I can tell that Eloise is attracted to him.
I won’t be going home with anyone tonight, but there’s no harm in a little small talk and one drink.
Chapter Nineteen
Astrid
The first sip of my drink brings a grimace to my face.
I glance over at the bartender because it must be his first night on the job. That or he has a very heavy hand with gin.
It’s way too strong for me if I want to walk out of here on my own two feet.
“That looks delicious,” Lyle, Heath’s best friend and apparent wingman says.
He’s around my age with shaggy brown hair and green eyes that are the same shade as mine. We have that in common. I’m not sure that anything else connects us beyond the other two people at our table.
Eloise and Heath are deep in conversation about the hockey game that’s loudly playing in the background on the multitude of televisions.
“It’s really not,” I respond because he deserves that at least.
He picks up the bottle of beer that he brought to the table with him. “This is. Do you want a taste? I think there’s a drop on my lips.”
The way he drags his tongue over his bottom lip is enough to make me look away.