Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
“The women are coming over.” Emile nudges me.
“He’s just saying shit—stuff”—Hudson corrects himself—“to get you riled up. He wants you to leave.”
“Quinn’s not interested in either of them. Or you for that matter,” I warn Hudson in case he gets any ideas.
“I didn’t think she was,” the vet admits, but he sounds disappointed.
He’s the one I’m most concerned about since he’s a vet. I’m a city boy who likes the convenience of same-day delivery and a coffee shop on every corner. I lived on caffeine and takeout during my working days. When Quinn brought up how she’s anti-city, I had a brain freeze. When I envisioned us together, it was in my apartment, going to my local barista, hanging out at my local pub, which was dumb as hell because I’m unemployed and she helps run a big cat sanctuary. Hudson, on the other hand, is used to that kind of life.
They fit together in a way that Quinn and I don’t—at least on paper. If I was a better person, I’d step aside and let the two of them get to know each other, but I’m a possessive asshole, and I’d rather bury Hudson in a pile of sand than let him get close to Quinn.
I stride forward and intercept her before she can reach the other men. “I’ll carry it for you. Don’t know why you were sent to get the food. We have legs and arms.”
“I think it’s reverse gendering stuff. Like men are traditionally the hunter-gatherers, but this time it’s the women.”
“I’m very proud of you for slaying the”—I jostle the fruit tray Quinn was carrying—“bananas and strawberry plants.”
“Thank you,” she replies solemnly. “It was a challenge, but I managed to suffer through.”
“She fought hard,” Serena chirps. “The pineapple mama was about to take her down but was no match for Quinn’s knife.”
“Sounds like a horror story. Might be good to tell around the campfire tonight,” I suggest.
“It’s too scary to retell. I don’t want to be responsible for anyone’s nightmares.” Quinn grins, and the three of us laugh until Penelope breaks in.
“You all sound like a bunch of kindergartners,” she snaps and pushes past us with a tray of sandwiches.
Christina sidles up beside me. “Don’t mind Pen. She’s hungry. Your jokes are cute. I want to hear more.”
I hear a small growl to my right where Quinn is standing.
“Oh my God, is that an animal?” Christina squeals. She grabs for my arm but misses because I’m jerking around to see if there’s an animal near Quinn. I let out an uneasy breath when I see nothing but empty space. On the other side of her, Serena covers her mouth and turns away, coughing slightly.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods but doesn’t swing around. I shoot Quinn a quizzical look, but she lets out a whistle and stares at the sky.
“Huh.” There doesn’t seem to be any danger, but I’m going to keep an eye out.
An arm brushes mine, and I remember that the Christina is walking with us. She has a jug of lemonade in one hand and plastic cups in the other.
“Is that straight or laced?” I ask. Drunk people around Quinn could be a problem. The men might forget their inhibitions and natural self-preservation instincts and try something on her. Then I’d have to beat them into the sand, which would get me kicked out. I need to avoid that, so it means heading off potential problems.
The other men rush to greet us when we arrive with the food.
“You’re an angel, ladies,” shouts Emile.
“What about me?” I grumble. “I carried the fruit tray.”
“You are not an angel, sorry. Fruit doesn’t count as food,” Emile says.
“I carried the fruit most of the way,” Quinn interjects.
“Oh, fruit is definitely nectar of the gods, and you are a goddess,” the other man declares.
Quinn grins at this compliment. Emile must want to die.
“Let’s play a get to know each other game,” suggests Christina. “I haven’t been able to spend enough time with all of you.”
“Actually, I have a better idea.” Mason strides forward with an empty beer bottle. “Let’s play spin the bottle. Winners get a little tent time.”
I open my mouth to object, but everyone else clamors at how great of a plan this is, and before I know it, I’m seated on the sand with an amber colored bottle lying in the midst of us. It looks innocuous, but I’m fairly sure I’m going to end up punching someone before the game is over.
CHAPTER 16
QUINN
Are we really about to play spin the bottle? I glance around at everyone in the circle, not wanting to kiss random people. How the hell do I get out of this? I flick a glance over to Leo, who is glaring at Mason. There’s no doubt in my mind that he wants to take his head off. Of course, it was a man that suggested it. Aren’t we a bit old for this?