Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
But before I could put words in his head, Jake spoke for himself. “I think you should have Thanksgiving dinner with us.”
So far, Christi had held off shooting me any knowing looks about Jake’s “Uncle Nic,” but now she couldn’t help herself. A smile twitched up her lips, and she said, “Oh, we couldn’t intrude,” in a tone of voice that invited Jake to insist.
“That’s so sweet, but we’re totally fine just the two of us,” I said firmly, shooting Christi a quick glare in return. I couldn’t imagine the exquisite, intimate torture of sitting across the table from Dominic at his family’s Thanksgiving dinner.
“Totally fine?” Jake exclaimed. “Says the girl who apparently can’t toast a piece of bread without ending up in a cast?”
It was a gross exaggeration, but Christi started to laugh, so I didn’t bother defending myself. Whatever knocked the rain cloud that was my parents out of the sky over her head was all right with me.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,’” Jake said, his voice suddenly low and persuasive and designed for Christi’s ears, not mine.
“I don’t know,” she murmured coyly, her eyes flicking to mine again. “Isn’t your uncle kind of intimidating?”
Yes, I answered silently. Intimidating was the perfect word to describe Dominic. But so was a whole host of other words that I wouldn’t say out loud in front of his nephew.
“He comes off that way, but you just have to get to know him.”
“What about your mom?” Christi asked.
Jake assured her that his mom would love it. I don’t think either of us believed him, but I could tell by Christi’s face that she wanted to say yes. She glanced at me, and I shrugged my shoulders minutely.
“It could be fun?” she said, making the sentence a question, giving me space to disagree.
I didn’t think fun was the right word. It was too tepid. I had a feeling that spending Thanksgiving with Dominic was going to be thrilling and potentially horrible or potentially amazing or maybe both. And I didn’t think for a minute that he’d be happy Jake invited us. The part of me who had always followed the rules and made sure not to ruffle feathers quailed. The new part, the part that he had awakened, thrilled.
“Whatever you want to do,” I said to my sister as if I wasn’t bothered either way. It was a feat of acting. Jake bought it, but Christi didn’t. She hesitated, trying to figure out what I really wanted. She didn’t have a chance, though, it was a riddle, even to me.
She took a deep breath, and I knew she was about to decline the invitation even though she really wanted to go.
“Let’s do it,” I said, the words coming out of nowhere and surprising all of us. I fought the urge to look around as if I didn’t know who had spoken.
“Yeah?” Christi asked, still watching me closely. I heard the excitement rising in her voice.
“Yeah,” Jake answered enthusiastically on my behalf. “I’ll call my mom today and let her know.” He bumped Christi’s knee with his under the bar, and she let her smile slide out of its constraints and fill her face.
They looked so happy it made my heart ache. I couldn’t imagine Dominic and I ever being that open together, that easy. One of us saying what we wanted, and the other making it happen. With us, it was all simmering sexual tension and illicit, ominous longing.
But I’d tried the nice guys. I’d tried following all the rules. It didn’t change a thing.
I wanted to break them, and I wanted to do it with Dominic White.
17
DOMINIC
“No way in hell,” I said when Jake called to let me know that Selena and her sister were coming for Thanksgiving dinner.
“Wasn’t asking, Uncle Nic. I’m just letting you know so you can get the bigger turkey,” he said cheerfully and hung up before I could respond.
I stared at the dark phone screen, wondering how the hell this had happened. Then I decided it didn’t matter how it happened. All that mattered was that I made it not happen. I considered calling Marjorie, but that would be like dropping a nuclear bomb on an ant colony. No, I could finesse my way out of this situation with a targeted approach.
Ignoring the last vestiges of professional propriety that remained squirming in my conscience, I looked up Selena’s phone number in the company records. Then I called her before I could consider how bad this could look for me. After all, I’d practically had her shirt off the other night before she told me she was a virgin. A phone call was like throwing a few twigs onto a raging forest fire.
I was surprised when she picked up. I’d expected to have to leave a voicemail. “Hello?” she asked, her voice tipping up at the end.