Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
June, the lingerie model, is standing alone, having just left the dance floor. She’s not my type at all—her beauty is way too obvious, and she tends to be a bit rude—but she’s available at the moment.
I walk toward her, touch her gently on her shoulder. She turns to look up at me.
“Good evening, June. Are you enjoying yourself?”
She gives me a wide smile. “Absolutely. I hate to say it, but damn, Sienna Costello can dance.”
“Why do you hate to say it?”
She chuckles nervously. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just… There are only four of you, and Sienna’s moves definitely make her stand out.”
To be honest, I haven’t been watching the dance floor since my moves are nonexistent. “What makes you stand out?” I ask.
Easy answer. She’s beautiful with a smoking hot body whose curves I’ve seen on display in ads for everything from corsets and nighties to demi-bras and thongs. No surprises there. Her hair is a shiny brown with subtle reddish highlights, and her eyes are a stunning blue.
“Isn’t that obvious?” she asks.
Seriously? She’s going there?
“Should it be?” I press.
“You read my bio. We all have good qualities, Mr. Barrett.”
“So you weren’t referring to…”
She clasps her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God… I just heard that how you must have heard it. No, that’s not what I meant at all.” She shakes her head, casting her gaze downward. “You must think I’m the most egotistical woman on earth.”
I tip her chin up so her eyes meet mine. “First, call me River, and second… Well, yeah. It sounded like you were talking about your physical attributes.”
She sighs. “This is why other women hate me. I…” She looks down again.
“What?”
“I don’t always think before I speak, especially when I’m nervous.”
Ah… That explains the comment she made earlier when she said Rachel and I didn’t have anything in common. I found the words off-putting, which is why I wasn’t initially drawn to June. But now she meets my gaze with vulnerability—and intelligence—in her eyes.
“Why are you nervous?” I ask.
“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re four of the most eligible bachelors in the world. I don’t want to screw this up.”
I give her a slow smile. “You haven’t screwed anything up. And you are beautiful, June. Even if that’s not what you meant, it’s not like you were lying.”
“I know that, but the other seven are also beautiful. I mean, have you seen Ginger? And Sienna? They’re both knockouts. And Emily with that ashy blond hair and adorable accent…”
“And Rachel…” I say absently.
“Right? I’ve never seen dimples like that. And her hair, so dark and such a beautiful, even color. She’s nearly perfect. Plus, her intellect. I bet she can converse about anything.”
I focus on June’s pretty face. The idea was to get to know her and to stop thinking about Rachel. To give all the women a chance.
“Yes, all eight of you are spectacular, but I’m talking to you, June. I want to get to know you.”
She draws in a breath and exhales slowly. “Maybe the best thing is for me to stop talking.”
“Then how can I get to know you?” I gesture to a vacant table. “Would you like to sit down? Have a drink?”
“Sure, that would be nice. But no alcohol. Just some sparkling water for me.”
“Of course.” I lead her to the table and pull out one of the chairs for her.
A server comes by with champagne, but I shake my head at him. “Could we get some sparkling water for the lady, please? And I’ll have a bourbon.”
“Brand?”
“The best you’ve got. Thanks.”
The guys and I are all bourbon drinkers. We got into it while we were all still living in Montana.
Damn….
I can’t think about Montana. Not now.
I turn back to June. “Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.”
I can’t use my mother’s advice about being a talk show host, since we know everything about these women already, so I’ll take a different route.
“Like what?” she asks.
“Like anything. It doesn’t have to be your deepest secret or anything, just something no one else would know about you.”
She tilts her head. “That sounds like a deep secret to me.”
“Really? There isn’t anything you keep solely to yourself?”
“What if I did have a secret like that? Why would I divulge it to you?”
I cock my head. She raises a good point. I sure as hell won’t divulge my deepest secret to any of these women. Neither will the others. We made a pact long ago—a pact we’ve kept for twenty years.
“Don’t divulge it then,” I say.
“What if I do? Will you tell me your secret then?”
My voice is steady but my gut clenches tight as a fist. I shouldn’t have asked the question. I don’t want to play the “you show me yours” game. Not with her, and not like this.