Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“The doctor said it would fade within a week,” Rye says with a shrug when Brin scowls at him.
How do you turn someone’s feet black for a week?
“Damn it, Ash,” Kode groans, returning to Tria’s side. “Now I need to brush my teeth.”
“You’re just mad that you can’t devour Tria in front of all of us with your puke breath,” Maverick says with a wicked tilt of his lips.
“Cut me some slack. I’m in a good mood. That dick Pete went crazy and attacked a guard. After his psych evaluation is over, they’re moving him to a maximum security prison in no more than three weeks, possibly as soon as one week. He’ll be there with some of the most violent criminals. I doubt he’ll ever make it out again to fuck with my girl.”
Ah, Tria’s crazy ex.
Tria rolls her eyes while moving back to her abandoned food. I can’t eat.
“Sorry,” Ash says sincerely to me, and I note with some amusement that she doesn’t extend the same apology to Bella. “I didn’t mean to ruin your appetite. I was planning to wait until everyone was done, but Bella sort of gave me the perfect opportunity.”
Bella groans. “I’m never asking another question.”
Ash quickly says, “For the record, the real secret is French vanilla coffee creamer instead of milk.”
Bella mutters something about not needing the recipe anymore. I couldn’t agree more.
***
ALLIE
“Run, you beautiful bastard! RUN!” Maverick yells, bouncing up and down as the dude in red runs down the field. I don’t have a clue what’s going on.
Wren shouts, getting just as excited, and I watch him. I can’t help but be fascinated, considering he’s sexy when he’s intense. Melanie and Ray left with Carrie in tow. They were dropping her off at her grandmother’s house—Rain’s stepmother.
Bella took Angel home over an hour ago because football bores her. It usually bores me, too, but Wren is very fun to watch. We’ve been here all day, and the guys have been doing pre-game stuff they like to call tailgating. It’s the ritziest version of tailgating that I’ve ever seen.
Tag tosses his hat down like he’s pissed, since he’s apparently cheering for the other team. And Wren tugs me to be on his lap before trailing a set of kisses from my ear to the bottom curve of my neck, moving the collar of my shirt away from my throat to give him more access.
The game has been on for what seems like forever, but every time Wren pulls me closer, I decide I might just start enjoying football. I relax against him as his arms come around my waist, and one of his hands slides down to my thigh.
“Damn, Wren. You’re getting as bad as the rest of them,” Maverick says just as Dane Sterling laughs.
Wren doesn’t bother looking up. His lips continue to devour my neck, kissing and nipping. I don’t like how everyone is suddenly looking at us, and I shift uncomfortably on his lap before tugging my shirt back into place.
“Ignore them,” Wren says, moving my collar back to the side.
“Yeah,” Tag says, smiling salaciously with his pregnant wife in his lap, “ignore us. We’re all just surprised to see Wren finally break.”
I don’t know what that means.
“Fuck off,” Wren says to Tag, and everyone starts laughing.
“I need a drink. You?” I ask Wren, standing up to escape the scrutiny of everyone’s looks.
“I’ll get one in a minute,” he says, glaring at Tag for reasons unbeknownst to me.
I head out, and run all over Dale Sterling when I reach the kitchen. I step on his foot, and the shoe sinks, allowing my foot to dig into his.
“Sorry,” I say quickly as he staggers backwards. He laughs while righting himself.
“No problem.”
“Your foot. I had to have hurt it.”
His smile vanishes. “Not possible. Don’t worry.”
“It has to be possible. I felt the shoe push down hard. Let me look at it. I could have broken your toe or something.”
He studies me for a minute, hesitance clearly in his eyes.
“You’re a nurse, so this probably won’t freak you out like most chicks,” he says with a shrug. He pulls up his jean leg, and my breath catches in my throat when I realize his left leg is prosthetic.
“Sorry. Did I freak you out?” he asks, wincing while dropping his pant leg back down.
“No,” I say quickly, too quickly. “It just surprised me. You don’t have a limp.”
He pockets one hand. “I have a lot of money. It affords me the best. Prosthetics have come a long way from when I was a kid.”
So it happened when he was younger?
“I didn’t know.”
He grins while laughing. “I don’t tell many people, and no one in our group thinks about it anymore. It’s just part of me. Women have an issue with it usually.”
He shifts, looking self-conscious all of the sudden, and I feel like shit.