Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“As friends, sure, but I don’t know you intimately.”
“After Saturday, you certainly know me more intimately than most of my friends,” I mutter. When he shoots me a mischievous grin, I roll my eyes. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Well, first we’re going to need to explain why we told Rich we’d been together two months a year ago and then I told everyone on Saturday that we’d been dating for two months.”
Crap. He’s absolutely right. It’s obvious, and yet I’d been so relieved to know Carter would be by my side that I hadn’t given that explanation any thought. “Okay, we were dating last year for a couple of months, but things were getting serious and you didn’t want that.”
He gapes, pressing a hand to his chest. “I didn’t want it? Do you want to make me look like a commitment-phobic asshole?”
“What if I broke up with you because you called me really obnoxious pet names?”
“How about saying it was mutual? Things were getting serious, and neither of us was ready for that.”
I consider, running it over from a couple of angles in my head before nodding. I don’t want either of us to sound like a jerk in whatever story we concoct. “That works.”
“Though I secretly was ready,” he says. “I just didn’t want to rush you because I understand that my job was part of the reason you were afraid to get too close.”
I flinch. They say the best lies are based in truth, but that one feels like it’s too close to home. So close it’s knocking on my damn door. “My sister would certainly buy that.”
“But then we started dating again a couple of months ago,” he says. “This time I’m determined to make you fall as hard for me as I’ve fallen for you.”
It’s weird to have this conversation and weirder to stand here wishing this weren’t pretend, that we were describing our history instead of manufacturing it. I take a long pull from my beer and sigh. It’s so good that I want to drain my glass, but I’ve made that mistake with this one before. “I haven’t eaten much today,” I tell Carter. “I should probably find some food if I don’t want this to go straight to my head. Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
I open the pantry and frown at my pitiful selection. I eat out too much and hate cooking for one, and that’s completely obvious by the lack of food in my house.
Carter comes to stand behind me. “You’re worse than Shay. At least she has whole-wheat bread and stuff for sandwiches most of the time.” He pulls open my freezer and fridge, then nods to the stool. “Sit. I’ll cook, and you can fill me in on the lesser-known details of Teagan Chopra.”
I open my mouth to protest then decide not to. I don’t know if Carter is any good in the kitchen, and that does seem like something I should know. “Okay, you know I have one sister, younger. Her name is Saanvi.”
“And her fiancé?” he asks. “Leroy?”
“Liam.” I’m honestly impressed that he’s even that close. I don’t remember talking about Liam, but I’m sure I have. He came to Jackson Harbor last spring to help Saanvi finalize some wedding details, but I’ve never had the chance to introduce either of them to my friends.
Carter nods as he pulls a package of chicken breasts from the fridge. “And you like Liam?”
I have to smile at the question in his voice. Given how protective I am of Saanvi, maybe it’s odd for me to love her guy so much. “Once I would’ve thought no one was good enough for my baby sister,” I admit. “But when she started dating Liam, I realized it isn’t about whether he’s good enough—it’s about how happy he makes her. How much better her life is when he’s in it.”
“I like that.” He puts a pan on the stove and drizzles it with oil, letting it warm while he pulls out a cutting board and knife. “I guess I feel the same about my brothers. I want them to be happy, and if the women they marry bring them joy, then I approve.”
“The KonMari method, but for spouses.”
He laughs, and I watch as he butterflies the chicken with the smooth, steady movements of someone who’s done it a hundred times. “I guess so. And your parents? They’re still together, right?”
“LouAnn and Kamal. Yes. They’re both doctors—Mom’s an OBGYN, and Dad’s a general surgeon.”
“Wow. I didn’t know that. Did you feel pressured to go to med school?”
“Not at all. They love what they do, but since they live it, they know the downsides of the career. They wish I’d become an NP and will probably bring it up at least three times while they’re in town, but I’ve become adept at ignoring them.”