Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 157848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 789(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 789(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
“The next round is on me.” I tip my glass to Scottie, receiving a grin of approval in return.
“Oh God, here we go,” Megan mumbles. “Looking at them makes me a little jealous and sick at the same time.”
I follow her gaze to catch Todd, Stephanie, Darby, and Peirce headed our way. My phone buzzes with a text. Luckily, Scottie’s focused elsewhere, so I glance down and immediately regret it.
Rina- I made a huge mistake. I should have never pressured you. Things were good between us, and I’d like to try again.
The unwelcome blast from my past sets my nerves on edge. In true Rina fashion, she’s made what was a simple arrangement between two consenting adults into a ‘thing’. What she’s forgotten is there was no pressure. She laid out an ultimatum—plain and simple.
Rina Lewis and I hooked up on and off after meeting at a banking event. At first, she was perfectly fine with grabbing a drink, which always led us back to her place. Neither of us pushed for more until a few months ago when I mistakenly mentioned Miller and Ashlyn’s wedding. Her attitude then took a one-eighty.
I should have cut it off at the first sign of her persistence. But in a moment of weakness, I let my dick do my thinking. One thing led to another, and I found myself balls deep in her once again. Afterward, she laid out her ultimatum. Either I invite her to the wedding and introduce her to my life, or it’s over.
Option two it was. I walked away, cutting all ties. It may make me a supreme asshole, but it was a straightforward decision. No matter how good the sex, no woman was dictating my life.
I evaded any event we’d come into contact. It worked until last week at the annual client appreciation. She was there, draped on a man I didn’t know. Her eyes met mine briefly, and in that second, her expression changed. I left without a word, avoiding any contact.
“You good, man?” Austin breaks into my thoughts, bringing me back to the scene in front of me.
“Yeah.”
“You look pissed.”
“Nope.”
His eyes go to the hand gripping my phone. “Whoever she is, must be pretty intense.”
“Not intense, more of a mistake. “
He nods his understanding. “Been there a few times. But look at the bright side; we’re in fucking Las Vegas. The women are everywhere, so my guess is they aren’t asking for more.”
I crack a grin and glance around. Why the hell am I sitting my ass in this bar, shooting back scotch, and waiting on the last of the happy couples to arrive? Not only that, I’m tortured by the fact that my sister is glowing like a firework.
It has nothing to do with the fact she’s pregnant. The shimmers covering them both tell me more than I need to know.
“I’m ditching,” I announce lowly to Austin and Andrew. “This is getting too soppy for me.”
“I’m with you.” Andrew drains his glass.
“Me too.” Austin stands. “Let’s head out before my sister comes in and God forbid Miller’s covered in those fucking sparkles.”
Too late. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Ashlyn glides in with Miller holding her waist.
Darby shoots me a glance, reading my thoughts, and nonverbally pleads with me to stay.
Her hand drops to her stomach, and fuck if my irritation doesn’t fade. For over twelve years, I lived with the shell of my sister. She never fully recovered until she came back to Charleston and confronted Pierce.
Piece by piece, he did what none of us could do and put her back together, suffocating her with his devotion. Now, she’s determined to make up for lost time with the cloud she lived under for so long.
Our drinks arrive and I dip my chin, deciding not to bail yet.
When Scottie announces that he’s trying to play matchmaker for all the singles, my eyes narrow at her. She barely hides her amusement.
I half-listen to them gushing about their encounter today with a woman at the spa. When Scottie calls her a ‘flawless flower child’, the question flies out of my mouth. “Flawless flower child? Is that the politically correct way of saying hippie?”
“I’d describe her as more Bohemian,” Darby offers. “She is wonderful.”
The conversation carries on, but everything goes static as my eyes zero in on the woman floating into the bar. Her bright eyes dash around, landing on mine.
Holy fuck.
An unfamiliar sensation invades my chest.
The purple dress hugs her every curve and highlights her tight body, and a mass of multi-colored waves fall down her back, topped with a crown of flowers circling her head like a halo. Tiny sparkles glimmer across her skin, adding to her glow.
She’s exquisite.
Absolutely fucking breathtaking.
An electric current fills the space and I’m unable to tear my eyes from her.