Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
He’s just ... too clean.
Too nice.
Too put together.
I like my men with a bit of ... well, bad boy.
“Oh, sorry,” I say after a few seconds. I don’t know how to pronounce a damned name like that.
“It’s quite fine,” he says. “It’s not your fault, a lot of people get it wrong.”
“Right. So, about what you do for a living?”
I listen for the next twenty minutes as he tells me about a company he runs and how busy he is and how much money he makes. I’m sure for a good deal of women, the word money would make their eyes light up, but quite frankly I’d rather be poor with a man giving me his time and energy than have a man who was rich and always at work.
I know what I want, and it isn’t that.
Still, I should give him a chance.
Maybe he doesn’t work as much as he’s saying.
“What about you, Evelina? Your mom tells me you own your own café.”
“Yeah, I do. I own Wildflowers. It’s on the main street, right at the end.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen it before.”
I smile awkwardly.
This is uncomfortable.
Should I feign diarrhea? That usually ensures they don’t call me again.
I’m contemplating this when the door opens to the Italian restaurant we’re in and I see Riggs striding in. He’s wearing his leathers, looking like a god damned lickable ice cream, and he’s striding right toward me and my date.
Oh, god.
No.
This is very bad.
Very bad.
He gives me a little smirk before he reaches the table. There, he leans down, captures my face in one of his hands, and kisses me. He kisses me hard and fast, no tongue, just those incredible lips, but it is enough to have me forgetting I’m on a date, forgetting that I’m with someone else and everyone is probably looking. It makes me forget everything except the incredible feeling of his mouth on mine.
He leans back and looks down at me. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Mom said you should be home by now.”
Wait.
What?
Mom?
What?
“Huh?” I squeak.
“I’m sorry,” Bjorn says. “I must have missed something here.”
Riggs looks to Bjorn. “Oh, you must be her date. How are you, I’m her brother, Riggs. I have been looking everywhere for her.”
“Brother?” Bjorn squeaks.
I stare wide eyed at Riggs.
“He’s not my brother, Bjorn, I assure you,” I say, but my voice is squeaky and pathetic. He won’t believe me.
Damn Riggs.
This is good.
Well played.
“Don’t be silly,” Riggs says in a voice that doesn’t match him at all. “Don’t be shy, families kiss each other on the lips all the time. Isn’t that right, Beyorne?”
Oh, god.
What did he just call him?
“It’s Bjorn.”
“Sorry, Byron. I just need to take my sister here home, she’s not supposed to be out this late. With her condition and all.”
“What condition?” Bjorn asks.
“No condition,” I say, laughing. “He’s just playing a prank. We’re not related.”
“Sure we are.” Riggs laughs. “She’s always trying to hide it. Don’t be ashamed, sis, it’s fine. He’ll understand.”
“Understand what?” Bjorn asks.
“Oh, about the baby.”
“What baby?”
“The one she’s pregnant with. We’re not sure who the father is, though we have a few ideas. You can’t just capture any man and try to blame it on him, Evelina, you need to take responsibility one day. Now come on, Mom is worried.”
My face is flaming hot.
My eyes are wide.
I’ll give it to him, he nailed this one.
I stand and look over to Bjorn, who is a little pale. “He’s kidding, I swear.”
Riggs laughs again and throws his arm around my shoulder. “Come on, little sis. Before Mom freaks out anymore.”
“Sorry,” I squeak as Riggs walks me outside.
The second we’re out, I turn around and slap him. My tiny hand hits his chest over and over. “You’re evil! Evil! I was on a date.”
Riggs grins. “With that dick? I doubt you were enjoying it.”
“I was having a wonderful time, thank you very much. Who told you I was here? Ramona. Oh, it was Ramona ...”
“She didn’t like him, either.”
“I’ll kill her!” I growl.
Riggs keeps the smirk, takes my arm, and walks me toward his bike.
I pause when we reach it.
“I’m not getting on that, god knows you have probably rigged it to throw me off or something equally as bad.”
“I didn’t, so get on. Unless you want to waste money on a cab.”
“Have you seen what I’m wearing? I can’t get on a bike.”
He stares down at the dress I’m wearing—short, tight and black. It’s sexy; I got it from a shop that specializes in curvy girl attire and fell in love with it. It hugs my curves and is a flattering cut that makes my ass look great and my boobs even better.
“Lookin’ to get laid, were you?”
“Yes, actually, I was. The drought has been going on long enough. I shaved my legs and everything before you so rudely interrupted. There will be bittersweet revenge, I hope you know that.”