Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“From last year,” the blonde on Ethan’s left muttered.
“Really?” Daisy kept on as if she hadn’t heard the blonde. “That is so fascinating. I’ve always thought about writing about beauty pageants!”
I pulled out her chair, and she sat next to Miss South Carolina, placing her black clutch on the table. I didn’t know much about women’s accessories, but I had the strangest urge to buy Daisy something classic, a vintage label like Dior or Chanel to match her vibe.
Weird. Usually, if I was dating someone—and I definitely was not dating Daisy—I asked Mrs. Donaldson to pick out something nice for the woman, and yet here I was, picturing presents for a woman I hadn’t so much as kissed.
Gareth leaned back in his chair and gave me a once-over as I stripped off my jacket, hung it on the back of my chair, and took my seat. “Given the way you’re looking at her, I’m guessing you don’t want to switch seats?” he asked quietly, cocking a dark eyebrow at me.
“I’m not looking at her,” I muttered under my breath as the two women struck up a conversation about pageant life. The blonde was more than pleased with the arrangement, since it left Ethan all to herself.
“Right. Keep telling yourself that,” Gareth said, reaching for his glass of ice water.
“So,” Daisy said, leaning forward slightly. “Is this a date thing?” Her gaze swung to mine, pure panic written in those soft brown orbs. “Did I ruin your night? Were you supposed to bring a date, and now you’re stuck with me?” She leaned in, her brow knitting. “Am I intruding on your…frolicking time?” She whispered that last part.
My gaze dropped to her mouth, and I quickly looked away, laughter rumbling in my chest. “No, this is not a date thing. Ethan likes his company—”
“Hey, I brought a couple friends just in case the conversation got boring.” He stretched his arms across the backs of both chairs. “You beautiful, loquacious women would never let the conversation stray to mergers and acquisitions, would you?” As much of an asshole as he was to everyone outside our social group, he’d never had a problem with women. Probably because he never disrespected them, at least not that I saw.
“And you’re not dating anyone?” Daisy asked Gareth.
“Never found a woman I’ve wanted around more than a weekend,” he said unapologetically, unbuttoning the sleeves of his dress shirt.
“Damn, Gareth, that’s a little harsh to the fairer sex.” Ethan reached for the bottle of wine and poured a glass of red.
“Would you rather I lie to the writer? Kind of defeats the purpose of her gluing herself to Ash’s back if she’s not getting an accurate picture.”
“You’re the owner of the Cougars,” Daisy said, a look I now knew to be curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Right?”
“Yep.”
She eyed his tattoos as Maria walked in through the kitchen door. “I’d bet you’d be a compelling char—”
“Nope,” I cut her off, blocking her line of sight with my face. “Gareth isn’t up for being interviewed about his frolicking habits,” I said quietly. “Or…any habits.”
Light dawned in her eyes. “Oh. Right.” I could see the question in her eyes, but she sat back in her seat, thankfully aware enough of his reputation not to ask it.
“Tonight, we’re starting you boys off with some crab risotto,” Maria said as servers marched in with steaming bowls, placing them all in front of us.
“We don’t get to choose?” Miss South Carolina asked.
“It would be rude not to trust Maria,” Ethan answered, his tone changing. “She’s never steered us wrong.” That right there is why women loved him for a night or two, but took off the second they caught wind of just how blunt he was.
The staff left, and we tucked in.
Three courses later, Daisy’s cheeks were flushed from two glasses of wine and she’d never looked prettier. Her curls were tucked behind her ears as she laughed at something Ethan said.
He’d turned on the charm after dessert, aiming it right at my girl.
Not your girl.
I recognized the ugly knot twisting my stomach for what it was—jealousy—and tried like hell to ignore it. Daisy wasn’t mine in any capacity. Hell, if she wanted to go home with Ethan and both his dates, she was free to.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t have to fight the urge to beat the shit out of one of my closest friends, but that was on me, not her.
“Has he driven you batshit crazy with his to-the-second-schedule yet?” Ethan asked, clearly enjoying watching me tighten up.
“He’s a little…structured,” Daisy agreed. “But it seems to work for him. Are you telling me you’re not as—” she glanced sideways at me, “—rigid when it comes to how you spend your time?”
Ethan grinned, and Gareth scoffed. “Oh, I’m rigid all right. But Asher over here takes it to the extreme. The rest of us know when to let loose and have a good time. Though I will say that Crossland is probably the best at it.” He glanced at Gareth. “Though I’m not sure Gareth even knows how to have a good time.”