Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Peter leaned forward until only inches and breaths separated them.
“Not sure how eligible I am, but you weren’t impressed. I’ve been watching you.” He chuckled, his minty breath reaching her lips. “There’s no shortage of interested males, but you always manage to elude them.”
“And yet you waited until the day of the ballet to ask me. That was a pretty confident move.”
“A woman like you only responds to confidence, I think.”
Jo didn’t blink but held his blue eyes with little effort.
Peter’s hand wandered from her shoulder up her neck until his thumb could stroke the line of her jaw.
“I’ll pick you up at six.” Peter dropped a quick kiss on her temple before striding out of the office.
Jo stood in the middle of her office long after Peter had gone. She couldn’t help but think it was exactly what she’d done for the last fifteen years. Stood still waiting for something that would never happen with Cam. She might not ever fully understand why, but did it really matter? Whatever she had imagined between them at Christmas, it could be diced and chucked along with all the other half-truths, innuendos, and veiled promises she’d misinterpreted through the years. It was time to move on. To forget the almost-thing they had practically been that one time or two…if she wasn’t mistaken. Yes, it was time to move on, and maybe Peter was her next move.
Chapter Eight
Peter, I had an amazing time tonight.” Jo clutched her clutch, tracing the raised YSL with her index finger.
“So did I, and I hate the ballet.”
Jo gave in to a grin, something she had been doing all night. Peter’s sense of humor held just the right amount of bite to be clever, but never cruel. He opened her car door, pulled out her chair, and actually listened when she soapboxed about foreign policy and human trafficking. He spoke the same languages she did. Belonged to the same clubs. Even drove the same freaking Land Rover. He was perfect for her. He made sense. He wanted her, and wasn’t afraid to show it.
“Would you like some coffee?” Jo thumbed at the door behind her. “Want to come in?”
“I’d like that very much.”
Peter’s eyes roamed down the gold shantung cocktail dress sheathing Jo’s curves from shoulder to knee, before making their way back up to her eyes.
Vera Wang, thank you vera much.
“Have I told you how absolutely beautiful you look in that dress?”
“Maybe four, five times, yes.” Jo loved that he didn’t flinch or even look embarrassed but shared a small smile with her. She pulled the key from her bag as she formulated her next words. “Peter, when I ask you in for coffee, it’s not a euphemism for anything else. It’s literally coffee.”
“I like my coffee literal. And I wouldn’t expect anything more.” He gave his own pause for effect. “Not on the first date, at least.”
Jo raised wide eyes but caught the little smirk giving him away. She slapped his arm with her clutch, laughing and turning to open the door.
“You had me going there for a minute,” she said, ushering him into the foyer.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His straight face just made her laugh more. “Now please point the way toward this literal coffee. It sounds delicious.”
“Jo, is that you?” her father called from the sitting room.
“Didn’t think Daddy would still be up.” She linked her elbow through Peter’s and pulled him with her. “Come see him.”
“Daddy, you remember Peter, he—”
Jo didn’t finish her sentence. She hadn’t expected to see Cam sitting across from her father, poised to steal his queen. Chess had always been their thing. You could never get Walsh to sit down long enough for a game of chess. Cam, though, despite the raw energy that snapped, crackled, and popped around him, especially when he was painting, could be downright restive. He and Daddy would play sometimes for hours. Maybe they were just getting started. She didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out.
“Sorry, Daddy. Didn’t realize you had someone with you.” She skidded her glance over Cam, making sure not to linger on the too-long hair tousled by his own fingers. A sure sign he and Daddy had been at it for a while. “Cam, welcome home. Shaundra thought you weren’t flying in until tomorrow.”
“She must have gotten the dates mixed up.” Cam’s eyes shifted between Jo and Peter. He bent his lips into a smile that would have fooled anyone else. Jo, though, knew every smile that had ever graced Cam’s face. This was his three-dollar-bill smile. He couldn’t pass it off on her as the real thing.
“Cam, this is Peter Halstead, director of our international adoption program.” Jo gestured between the two men. “Peter, Cam Mitchell. Cam’s like a…like a brother to me.”