Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“Well you will be,” I inform him. “It’s her day, and you’ll be participating.”
We step back inside and move to the family room.
“Ugly sweater party.” York takes a seat on the sofa, raises his hands behind his head and leans back, propping his feet on the coffee table. “I repeat, she’s going to get you an ugly sweater.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Don’t mind him,” my father says, dropping down into the recliner, “he’ll be single for the rest of his life. I think I like Zoe for you.”
I meet his eyes, a little shocked by his statement. “Oh really? Why’s that?”
“She’s lively.”
Ain’t that the truth. I’ve never met anyone like Zoe before. And I find myself loving that about her, loving the fact she’s unique, like the engagement ring around her finger. “Yeah, I kind of like her,” I let slip out, forgetting the moment. “I really kind of like her.”
My father chuckles, loud and deep. “Well, I sure hope so, son.”
Before I mess up any more, I excuse myself to take care of business. When they arrive back a few hours later, giddy and laden with bags, I pull Zoe to the side. “What’s my sweater look like?”
She dabs my nose with her index finger and then digs into a white bag. She pulls out a red and green sweater, unravels it and holds it against her chest.
Horrified, I stare into the button eyes of Santa, and well, she’s got to be kidding. “Umm, what is that?”
“It’s an ugly Christmas sweater.”
“Ugly is right. I’m not wearing that.”
“Why?” Her face twists into an adorable pout of disappointment, complete with big eyes and plump bottom lip. My dick hardens instantly, and all I want to do is kiss this girl.
My hands land on her hips. “I just can’t wear tinsel.”
“I think you can.” She inches closer.
I stare at the sweater again, then at her lips. And I lean in. “Fuck it, for you I’ll do it.” Our lips meet in an instant.
I’ve never been one for PDA’s—yeah, I’m that guy—but, with Zoe, I can’t keep my hands off her. At this point, I don’t really care who’s around, so I keep kissing her. Until a familiar cough interrupts us.
“Guests will be arriving soon,” my mother says.
Guests? How big of a party did they plan? An hour or so later, I find out a pretty damn big one. The house is alive with friends of my parents from the club, and community. My mother doesn’t do small intimate affairs. ‘Go big or go home’ is her motto.
Everyone is having a great time in an ugly sweater, and I glance around looking for the one person responsible for it all. Zoe. Her sweater takes place in outer space with kittens wearing Santa hats and eating pizza. It’s god awful. How she can look so beautiful in such an ugly sweater is beyond me.
“Graham, haven’t seen you around in a long time,” Mr. Vesterlane, Trudy’s father, says.
His sweater is atrocious. A fuzzy reindeer protruding from his belly bumps me as I shake his hand. “I’ve been busy with the resort, sir.”
His brow rises. “Quite a spunky little fiancée you have.”
“Yes, she sure is.” It comes out like I’m talking about her spunk in the bedroom, but I don’t care. She is spunky, both in and out of it.
He walks away after patting me on the shoulder, and I can’t say that I miss him. I know the Vesterlanes aren’t happy I came home with a fiancée on my arm. Mr. Vesterlane has been trying to get his hands on my resort for a long time. And if I marry his daughter, that’s one step closer to his hands in my business.
My mother saunters over in a gaudy green cardigan dripping with garland and tiny ornaments, still managing to somehow look couture. “You must really love this girl if you’re willing to wear that in public.” She points to the Santa sweater I’m wearing, like she has any room to talk.
I laugh. “I guess I do.”
My mother lifts her champagne to her lips and takes a sip. “The Vesterlanes won’t be happy about this.”
I face my mother. “Who would you rather see happy? The Vesterlanes or me?” I walk away and head straight for the bar. I grab a bourbon, and then I spot Zoe heading right for me.
“You look upset,” she says, concerned.
I throw an arm around her shoulders, putting on a show, but not really. “I’m great now that you’re here.” I lean in to kiss her. “Want to get out of here?”
She nods.
I know this is her event, but my mother always plays the gracious hostess, and I doubt anyone will even miss us.
After grabbing our coats, we slip out the back door, and I fire up the SUV and speed away before anyone even notices we’re missing.