Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Uh, over here,” she called back breathlessly, giving me a wide-eyed stare as I looked up at her from where I was tying my shoe. There was really nowhere to hide and if she hadn’t answered him, he would see us in a few more steps anyway. She jerked her chin and I stood just as a very large man came around the corner sporting a trimmed black beard and an eyepatch.
A pirate. Her uncle was a pirate. He stopped short, his gaze flying from her to me and back to her. My God the man was huge, not just in height, but in breadth. His arms were the size of my thighs and he could probably crush me if he wanted to. Or make me scrub a deck. Or walk a plank. And by the way he was staring at me, one icy blue eye narrowed and suspicious, he was definitely considering doing all of those things, and much worse.
“What’s this?” he barked.
“Why are you wearing an eye patch?” Rory asked.
He reached up and removed the patch, squinting the eye that had been covered. “I took a rope to the eye last night. I’ll ask you again,” he growled. “Who’s this?”
“Him?” she asked, sweeping her arm in my direction as if her uncle might have been asking about some ghost or other invisible person in the room. “He’s uh…he was servicing the…uh…”
“Pool table,” I cut in, forcing myself not to grimace. Nice save, Buchanan. Apparently my brain cells were still scrambled from the sex.
Her uncle’s eyes narrowed further, his hand curling into a fist. “What kind of service does a pool table need?” he asked, his voice low and measured in a way that was scarier than the way he’d first yelled.
I glanced over my shoulder at the table, my eyes widening when I saw the clear ass imprint in the felt. I shifted my body, hoping to hide the evidence. “Uh, the pockets have to be…calibrated,” I said.
The giant pirate’s eyes narrowed to slits. The room brightened another degree, morning asserting herself over the dawn.
“And the balls,” Rory said. “He was checking the balls.” She tilted her head. “Balls should have a certain feel in the palm.” She raised her hand and massaged the air. “Isn’t that what you were about to show me?” She gave me a wide-eyed innocent look and batted her lashes.
The pirate growled.
“Uh…” My eyes locked with Rory’s. The corner of her mouth trembled though her eyes looked just a little sad. I realized what she was doing. She was saying goodbye. She was going to end this as it’d began. With barely suppressed laughter and good-natured teasing. And as far as endings went, it wasn’t a bad one. So why did I feel equal parts alarmed by the giant, and regretful that I was about to walk away from this woman?
I heard shouts from the front door and the sounds of palms slapping the glass. My friends. They were calling my name. Had it really been hours since I’d left them sleeping? It felt like mere moments. Their calls got louder.
And yet I couldn’t look away from Rory. We’d both known it was temporary. Just a chance encounter. Reality that would soon seem like nothing more than a fantasy. A fever dream.
“Those are, ah, my calibration experts and…but, I think we’re done here,” I told the big man who looked like he was seconds away from hanging me on the coat rack. I turned to Rory and reached for her hand. Our palms met, my fingers wrapping around hers. “Cakes…”
“Ivy League.” She inclined her head toward the door. “You better go before they break it down.” I paused, somehow not able to let go.
I’ve got you.
But then she was the one to pull her hand from mine and I released an exhale and turned away from her before I figured out a way to stay, scooting carefully past her uncle and then jogging for the door. I flung it open and my friends almost fell in, all chattering at once. “Did you stay the night here?” Aidan leaned his head in and I pushed him out, letting the door slam shut behind us. “Details later,” he whispered, holding his hand next to his mouth, and then looking over his shoulder.
“The repair shop’s open and they’re putting on a new tire now,” Grant said.
“My phone is working,” Trent told me, holding his up. “Grant’s and Aidan’s are permanent goners. Check yours.”
Check mine? Check my what?
“It’s a glorious day to golf!” Aidan declared as we walked down the dock.
Golf?
Something about heading out to a day of golf seemed hilarious but I couldn’t figure out why. And I loved to golf.
“We’ll check in to our hotel, take showers, change, and be on the course in a couple of hours. Mud Gulch will be nothing but a bad memory by noon.”