Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Can I dare hope Lake’s really a good person?
I came here with the intent of making him break off the engagement, and now that I think about all the ways I planned to make it happen, I find myself resisting the very ideas which I’ve been fantasizing about for the past three months.
Maybe…
Maybe Lake is the solution and not the obstacle?
Or maybe I'm naive thinking a foreigner will help me to reunite with my mother.
Lake
Lying on the couch I’m practicing some Korean words and glancing at Mason’s closed bedroom door, I call, “Mace!”
I wait for three seconds. “Mace!”
“What?” he yells back.
“Help!”
When he yanks the door open, with shampoo suds still in his hair and gripping a towel around his waist, I press my lips together so I won’t burst out laughing.
“I’m thirsty,” I whine, giving him the cute pleading look he can never say no to.
He walks into the living room, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the carpet. Glaring at the table, he growls, “You have water, OJ and a fucking milkshake on the table. Pick one.”
My lips begin to hurt from holding the laughter in and reaching over, I even pretend to stretch. “I can’t reach any of them.”
He stalks to the table, grabs the water bottle, and tosses it onto my chest. “You better find religion because it’s only a matter of minutes before I kill you.”
When he stalks back to his room, I call out, “Love you, buddy.”
His door slams shut and I let out a chuckle as I grab the bottle from my chest and place it back on the table.
Falcon comes out of his room, laughing, “He’s going to beat the shit out of you.”
“I’m trying to see how far I can push him. I’m doing him a favor by teaching his impatient ass how to hold back.”
Falcon sits down on the couch, shaking his head at me. “It’s your funeral.”
“How much damage can he do with a damn pillow?”
“True.” Falcon leans back against the couch, then asks, “When are you going to arrange everything for Lee’s arrival? You do remember you have to pick her up tomorrow?”
“It’s all taken care of,” I say, grinning at him.
“You haven’t left that damn couch since your ass touched it on Sunday. When did you take care of it?”
“Preston. You know the assistant y’all stole from me?”
Falcon begins to chuckle. “You asked Preston to prepare a suite for a girl?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”
Mason comes walking into the living room, shooting me a scowl before he sits down next to Falcon. His gaze goes to the unopened water bottle, and it makes him narrow his eyes, and then he grumbles, “For starters, Preston might be a genius, but he’s senseless as fuck when it comes to women.
“He is? What makes you say that?” I ask, and I begin to sit up, feeling a little worried.
“He helped Layla and me prepare Kingsley’s suite,” Falcon says, and the grin on his face makes my worry grow. “What’s the one thing Kingsley loves most?”
“Her candy stash?” I glance at Mason. “And him of course.”
“Preston got rid of all the candy. When I asked him why; he said it’s not healthy for her and she’s recovering. If I hadn’t stopped him, Kingsley would’ve come home to a bowl of fruit with vitamins on the side.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “You should’ve let him do that. I would’ve paid to see Kingsley’s face.”
“Wait there’s more,” Falcon says. “He even ordered… shit, what were they called again?” he asks Mason.
“Expand-a-lung breathing fitness exerciser and a deep breathing lung exerciser,” Mason mumbles. “The one had those balls in them you have to try and blow to the top.”
“Expand-a-lung.” I begin to laugh. “Blowing balls.”
Yeah, I wonder who’s balls we’re talking about here.
I crack up at the thought, and I have to grab hold of my stomach to try and breathe.
Falcon begins to chuckle, but Mason tilts his head, saying, “For someone who was dying ten minutes ago you sure look fine right now.”
“The healing power of laughter,” Falcon, mutters before he cracks up again.
Mason nods and drawing his bottom lip between his teeth, he gives me a you-are-so-fucked look. “Keep laughing,” he warns. “Meanwhile, Preston is converting Lee’s suite into a fucking Buddhist temple.”
I shoot up, the laughter disappearing at the speed of light. “He wouldn’t.”
Mason sits back and smiles. “I helped him carry a Feng Shui gong to the suite. He even had a miniature yin and yang zen garden because it’s the symbol on South Korea’s flag.”
“In other words,” Falcon says, “it’s safe to say you’re fucked.”
Darting to my feet, I run for the door, which has Mason and Falcon laughing their asses off. I rush down the stairs to the floor beneath ours and almost crash my way into Lee’s suite, only to come to a sudden stop.