Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Maybe he’s letting go of some of that all-or-nothing mentality? Or maybe that’s wishful thinking.
When I finish Ryker’s tie, I set a hand on his strong chest, remembering the first time I did it, when I explored the scar and his ink, then I place my other hand on Chase’s shirt, picturing his scratches and cuts.
My two men, with their big bodies they push to the limits to provide for their families. And their bigger hearts.
Everything about this moment just feels so right. Me doing the finishing touches for their outfits. Me enjoying the scent of both of them.
Us getting ready to leave as one.
All day long, I’ve been borderline sad, thinking about tomorrow and the end of the most unexpected and wonderful week of my life.
Thinking that it’s ending like any vacation inevitably does.
Now, with me in the teal dress they bought, with us looking like we belong together, new thoughts—fragile thoughts—circle my mind.
What if this could be my life?
It’s a wild thought, but it’s taken hold of me as we leave together for the wedding.
“You must be Trina.”
The woman with the piercing blue eyes and bold style—her bright paisley-print dress is eye-catching—can only be Ryker’s sister.
“And you must be Ivy,” I say, then I gesture to my dress, the one that she helped to pick out, for all intents and purposes. “Thank you so much for that recommendation.” Then I quickly add, “I’m so glad you told Ryker, who told Chase.”
And shoot. Did it just sound like I was covering something up?
Ivy just smiles, kind of slyly. We’re at a gorgeous hotel in the Presidio, in a classy ballroom teeming with white roses, and offering a stunning view overlooking the Pacific. Ivy shifts her gaze from me to Ryker to Chase. The guys are saying hello to Chase’s teammate Ledger.
My cheeks flush. And in a heartbeat, it’s clear that Ivy knows something.
It took all of two seconds, and I’m positive Ryker’s sister knows this isn’t a fake date with her brother’s best friend.
But before I can figure out what to say next, her brother turns away from the other guys and brings Ivy in for a hug. “How’s it going, troublemaker?”
“Fabulous,” she says brightly.
Like a hawk, I watch her every move as she chuckles then whispers something in his ear. With a light laugh, he lets go. He says nothing, but there’s a smirk on his face.
And I still don’t know what to do with this moment except wriggle away from the awkward. “And I hear you write all about fashion,” I say to Ivy.
“I’m kind of obsessed with it,” she answers. “I wish I had the skills to design, but I guess I’ll have to do the second-best thing.”
“I feel the same way about books. I can’t write them but I sure know how to read them.”
“I’ll have to get some book recs from you,” she says.
Whew. This is much safer ground. “And you’re going to have to tell me what all the trends are in clothes. And then basically how to get knockoff versions at Target,” I say as other guests shuffle in, big guys who are clearly from the Sea Dogs and the Avengers.
As the goalie from Ryker’s team walks in, Ryker slides past me. “Give me a sec. I need to chat with Dev.”
“Sounds good,” I say, and now I wonder if that came out awkwardly too. If Ivy or anyone else can read into everything I say to the two childhood best friends.
But what exactly is she reading into it? Does she know I have feelings for her brother and his friend? Does she think I’m some kind of trollop?
My stomach churns. Then it loops when Ivy moves into the aisle and pats the seat next to her. What the hell do I say if she asks me what’s up?
I sit, hoping she won’t ask prying questions. I gesture to the ocean crashing against the sand in the distance, hoping small talk can save the day. “This is such a gorgeous view, isn’t it?”
“I heard you met my grandma.”
Well, that small talk didn’t last long at all. “I did,” I say evenly since I don’t know where she’s going with this line of conversation.
Ivy leans closer to me, her voice low. “She likes you.”
“Well, I liked her too,” I say, wishing I knew what Ivy was getting at. Is she friend or foe? Is she as protective as her brother? Is she going to give me the third degree for being Chase’s date but making eyes at the guy who looks out for her?
“I think she sent me here on a matchmaking mission,” Ivy says, and whew.
I breathe a sigh of relief. That makes so much more sense. She’s Dorothy’s soldier rather than my jailer, but still, I don’t know what she thinks of unconventional arrangements.