Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Otherwise, I never would have blurted out those embarrassing things to a perfect stranger.
Did I mention he turned out to be a scorching hot superstar of professional hockey?
But wait, there’s more.
When the plane lands safely, I rush off, praying I’ll never have to face him again. My luck holds out for less than twenty-four hours, when I realize he’s a groomsman at the wedding I’m attending.
We end up having a drink and a good laugh about my panicked confessions, and when he invites me up to his room for some no-strings-attached fun, I say yes. After all, a headboard rattling one-night stand with a guy who knows how to put the puck in deep isn’t something a bookworm like me ever thought she’d experience.
Neither are those two little pink lines.
Now what’s crashing are all the plans Joe Lupo and I had for our lives–separately.
After all, we’re totally wrong for each other. He’s commitment-phobic and completely focused on his career. And I want to plant roots in my small town–with someone who chooses me.
Love? It’s out of the question.
Until Joe Lupo lines up his shot and aims straight for my heart.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
ONE
mabel
In my defense, I thought the plane was going down.
Otherwise, I never would have said those things about my sex life to a perfect stranger.
And not just any stranger.
The man in the seat next to me was hot. I don’t mean regular hot. I mean next-level hot. The kind of hot that can momentarily distract you from your pathological fear of flying, which was worse than usual, thanks to terrible summer thunderstorms raging across the Midwest. Flights had been canceled or delayed out of a dozen different airports, including Chicago O’Hare, where I’d spent the last three hours getting more and more anxious about the fundamentals of aviation in general and the effects of thunderstorms on aircraft specifically.
Frantic internet searches had done nothing to quell my nerves.
Already on edge, I’d boarded the plane only to discover that my last-minute upgrade had resulted in my getting a window seat instead of the aisle. I always preferred an aisle seat since it would allow me to reach the nearest exit row more quickly in case of an emergency. Were the perks of first class going to make up for the anxiety I already had about this flight? Gravity wasn’t going to give a shit about my gold member status. People in the posh rows fell out of the sky at the same rate as the people in the back.
My plan had been to ask whoever had seat 3B if they wouldn’t mind switching with me in 3A. Then I’d immediately locate the nearest exit row and plan my evacuation route. However, I’d been struck dumb by the sight of the gorgeous, broad-shouldered guy who’d boarded a few minutes later, walked down the aisle, and stopped at my row. After tucking his roller bag into the overhead bin, he offered me a smile before dropping into 3B.
My heart fluttered. I felt strangely honored, like he’d chosen that seat. Like the cutest, most popular boy in school had gotten on the bus and slid in next to me despite all the other open seats.
He pulled out his phone and tapped at the screen while I stared unabashedly at the chiseled jaw with a hint of stubble, the tousled brown hair, the small scar near his temple.
He wore jeans and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves cuffed, revealing tanned, muscular forearms and a fancy black wristwatch. His legs were long, and I liked the way the denim hugged his thighs. He looked effortlessly sexy and cool.
Glancing down at my own clothes, I took a moment to inwardly bemoan this morning’s choices—I’d come straight from a conference session, so what I had on could loosely be described as business casual, but there was nothing cool or sexy about my camel trousers and pink blouse. Worse, I’d already traded my heels for sneakers and thrown my hair up in a ponytail. I’d worn my glasses instead of my contacts.
The guy stood up again to grab something out of his bag overhead, and I realized there was something familiar about his face. Did I know him from somewhere? I racked my brain, but I couldn’t place him. He was handsome enough to be a movie star, but I didn’t think that was it. Certainly it wasn’t anyone attending the conference I’d been at this week. The Small Museum Association had many smart, passably attractive professionals, but nobody in this guy’s league.
He glanced down and caught me looking at him. It was the perfect opportunity to ask about a seat switch, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. Embarrassed, I adjusted my glasses and focused my attention out the window, where heavy sheets of rain were slanting down angrily from dark skies. Lightning flashed, and I sat back abruptly and yanked the strap on my seat belt to tighten it.
Why hadn’t I waited and flown home tomorrow morning? I still would have had plenty of time to make the wedding. Or I could have hopped on a train. Rented a car. Hitchhiked. Anything would have been safer than this airplane!
The hot stranger took his seat again, calmly buckling up. “Looks bad out there, doesn’t it?” He had a nice voice.
I nodded and braved another look at his face. His eyes were midnight blue, his brows thick and dark. I wondered how he got that scar on his temple. He had a second scar, a tiny vertical white line, just above his upper lip. Maybe he’d been in a car accident or something. Or maybe he was a boxer.
I realized I’d been staring at him for too long without speaking. “Yes, it does,” I said, “and unfortunately, I’m—” Hiccup! I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Sorry. I get the hiccups when I’m nervous.”
He laughed, but in a nice way, and handed me one of the little mini bottles of water resting on the armrest between us. “Here. Drink this.”