Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“You mean that? I could really use you. I know it’s silly to go all out for a kid’s first birthday when they won’t even remember it, but—”
I held up my hand. “Are you forgetting you’re talking to someone who plans events for a living? The bigger the better in my opinion. Cruz might not remember it, but you will.”
She grinned. “Glad we’re on the same page. David thinks I’m crazy.”
“Who asked him?” I teased.
David—who was standing there listening to us—flung his hands up and groaned. “Oh hell. This party is going to cost me an arm and a leg. I’m gonna have to get a second job.”
Sawyer walked up to the group then. “Hate to interrupt—”
“Please do!” David tossed his arm around Sawyer’s shoulders and tugged him playfully so they both almost lost their footing and fell to the ground. “These ladies are driving me insane talking about Elmo-inspired fruit platters and Peppa Pigs in a blanket.”
Sawyer chuckled, took one look at me, and then laid it all out there. “I just thought you should know I’m takin’ your sister out tonight.”
David laughed at this. A real belly-aching laugh with his head thrown back and everything. “No shit? ’Bout time.”
“What’s that mean?” I frowned.
“Any advice?” Sawyer asked David.
David studied me, one eye narrowed shrewdly like he was really thinking it over. “She might look sweet and dainty, but she’s a spitfire.”
I rolled my eyes, already walking away.
“Don’t let her win every battle!”
If he said anything else after that, I didn’t hear it. Now, I grab my purse from the side table near the door and am about to slide past Sawyer to get this show on the road, but my mom stalls us before I can make my great escape.
“What a gorgeous pair you two make. Let me take a picture before you leave!”
“We’re not going to prom,” I protest. “We don’t need pictures.”
Sawyer steps into the foyer and smiles at her. “Where do you want us?”
I want to sock him in the arm for willingly going along with her ridiculous request.
“Oh! Over by the fireplace. Yes. Step closer, and Madison, put your back to him so he can wrap his arms around your waist.”
We are officially too close for comfort. Sawyer’s hard body cocoons me. He’s somehow taller than I realized. I slyly peer back over my shoulder. He’s wearing jeans and a white button-down, clean boots. His hair’s still a little damp from a shower, and it’s holding on to its wave even better than usual. Men in Hollywood would sell their soul for that hair.
My assessment doesn’t include a look at his face. His handsomeness is a given; no need to confirm what I already know.
“Now where did I put my phone?” My mom pats her hips like her dress has pockets. Then she snaps her fingers. “Think I had it in the pantry a second ago.”
The pantry?
“Use mine!” I urge, yanking it out of my purse, but she’s already wandering off into the kitchen.
I sag. “This will take a while,” I warn him.
“It’s fine.”
He doesn’t remove his hands from my waist.
“This is what you get for humoring her.”
“She wants a good photo of us.” I can hear the amusement in his voice. “We’ll be glad to have it.”
“Glad to have it?” I echo in disbelief before I glare up at him. Ugh. Damn his captivating brown eyes. “Why?”
“First date. That’s special.”
He smiles and it’s like the whole world should take notice. I’m sure the furniture leans closer. The whole house sags in love.
His hold on me tightens and I shiver. His smile widens ever so slightly.
I’m about to continue acting the way I feel—bratty and annoyed—but then I remember the whole reason I’m here. I’m meant to be seducing him! I’m a woman on a mission! I return his smile and hope it seems sweet. I’ve never been all that good at acting.
“Oh too cute! Hold on, don’t move, y’all! Let me snap it.” My mom rushes into the room, getting in position in front of the coffee table. “Wait, it’s facing me. I can see straight up my nose.”
She laughs and slaps her thigh, and by the time she switches the camera around, there’s no telling what faces Sawyer and I are making. All I know is being nestled in his arms is a dangerous place to be. A girl could get used to this feeling of safety and comfort.
I step away as soon as she tells us she’s got it.
“I’m going to post this to Facebook,” she exclaims, probably already doing it. “Going to tag my book club girls.”
I imagine her rambling caption, outlining our full history.
“Please don’t.”
She doesn’t look up from her phone. “They love seeing you, Madison! And Sawyer, your grandma is in book club too. She’ll be tickled to see you two together.”