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)
Or maybe they were laughing at me.
My eyes flew open. I gasped. “Oh God.”
The hot stranger holding my hand laughed.
“Oh. God.” I lowered my lids again. “I’m not going to die, am I?”
“Nope.”
“But now I want to.” I peeked sideways at him. “I’m so sorry.”
Another chuckle, warm and genuine. He took his hand off mine. “It’s okay. You kept me entertained.”
“Oh God.” I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I could curl into a little ball and roll under the seat. “What was your name again?”
“Joe Lupo.”
I looked at him in complete despair. “Joe Lupo, you have to promise me you will forget all about this.”
“I mean, I could try. In all honesty, I’ve never had a great memory, and I’ve taken a few bumps to the head that make it even worse.” One side of his mouth hooked up, and his blue eyes twinkled. “But something tells me I’m gonna recall this for a long time to come.”
I slumped in my seat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we do apologize for the rough air.” The flight attendant spoke calmly. “The captain has informed us that we’ve cleared the storms and it’s now safe to move about the cabin, so he’s turned off the fasten seat belt sign. We will offer a quick beverage service, so please keep the aisles clear.”
“Would you like another drink?” Joe asked.
“No, thank you,” I said, plucking my blouse away from my chest. Beneath the silk, my skin was sticky. I probably had armpit sweat rings.
Flight attendant Barbie was back with her flirty smile and perky banter, and Joe seemed to eat it up. I took my glasses off and cleaned the lenses, just for something to do. Then I dug my earbuds and laptop from my bag and listened to music while I went over some of the notes I’d taken at the conference.
But I was distracted.
Next to me, Joe Lupo sipped a cup of coffee and chatted with the pretty flight attendant, who seemed to have an awful lot of free time. Wasn’t there something else she should be doing? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his big hand wrapped around the cup and recalled the way he’d touched me.
Envy rippled low in my belly. He’d probably ask for her number. Maybe they’d hook up later tonight. They’d have a hot one-night stand during which she wouldn’t be shy about what she liked or wanted, and she’d probably have a mind-blowing orgasm.
Probably? I snuck a peek at those muscular thighs again.
Make that definitely.
Joe Lupo struck me as a man who knew how to score.
TWO
joe
I’d missed the rehearsal dinner completely, but I met up with the wedding party at a bar called Buckley’s Pub.
Which was kind of a weird coincidence.
I’d been thinking about that girl on the plane almost the entire drive up to Cherry Tree Harbor. The one with the dark hair and dimple in her cheek. The one who’d blurted out all those things about her sex life when she’d thought the plane was going down.
Mabel Jane Buckley.
Not my usual type, I’ll admit, but there was something about her. She was cute in that girl-next-door kind of way, like the nice nurse at the pediatrician’s office when you were a kid, the one who gave out the suckers. Or your favorite elementary school teacher, the one who said good things about you at parent-teacher conferences, even though you had trouble following all the rules.
She was thirty years old. Never had an orgasm during sex. Faking it for years with unexciting guys. Never had a one-night stand with a hot stranger. My interest had definitely been piqued.
But once the flight had smoothed out, she’d kept her earbuds in and her laptop open. Then after we landed, she’d avoided eye contact as she hurried through the jet bridge and into the terminal.
Too bad, I thought, pushing open the door to the pub. I wouldn’t have minded playing the role of hot stranger for her. I had zero interest in being anyone’s boyfriend, but putting the puck in the net was my specialty.
Inside Buckley’s, an upscale place with lots of leather, dark wood, and brick walls, I spotted my twin brother Paul standing by the bar. We looked alike but weren’t identical. Both of us had brown hair, our dad’s muscular build, and the Lupo nose and mouth, but I had our mom’s blue eyes where his were dark. We also had an older brother, Gianni, and a younger sister, Francesca.
Paul smiled when he saw me, grabbing me in a bear hug. “You’re late, asshole.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Flight was delayed out of Chicago. We didn’t even land in Traverse City until after eight, then it was a ninety-minute drive up here. How did everything go?”
“Fine.” He shrugged and tipped up his beer. “Footsie seems pretty chill about everything, and our part is easy—we just stand behind him during the thing and then follow him back down the aisle when it’s done.”