Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 202(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 202(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
“Okay.” It’s strange seeing the two of them in my house, though we’ve been busy carrying things out. When I packed my belongings into boxes and emptied my closets, it turned out I had a lot more than I realized. The guys are taking the furniture – my bed, dresser, desk and chair – in the back of their truck and we’re going to load my car with the boxes.
On my next trip outside, I find my mom standing with Cade and Ryder, shaking their hands.
“Oh hi, Bianca,” she says in a bright voice. “I just met your friends. It’s so nice of them to help you.”
I try not to look as uncomfortable as I feel. “Yes, very nice.” I agree.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Bianca mention you,” she says to the men. “How do you all know each other?”
“They work at the golf course Dad and I go to. Their father owns it, actually.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Mom is giving them long second glances. She’ll definitely be asking me questions later. The last time I brought a guy home was … never, and now there are two extremely attractive ones here with me.
Not that this counts as “bringing a guy home.” They’re just my friends, after all, even though thinking of them as only friends causes a twinge of discomfort now.
My mom says goodbye to Cade and Ryder before turning to me. “Will you be staying at your apartment tonight?”
“Yeah.” I gesture to the truck. “My bed will be there.”
A flash of sadness crosses her features before she smiles at me. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow at work then?”
“I’ll see you then, Mom.” When I hug her, I hold on longer than usual.
Cade and Ryder finish loading my car with the few remaining boxes, and then we drive over to Sandy Shores, the guys following me in their truck.
“I’m on the second floor,” I tell them when we arrive. “I’m sorry there’s no elevator.”
“No problem,” Ryder says. “Luckily, golf course maintenance keeps us in pretty good shape.” He playfully flexes his bicep and gives me a silly grin, but there is no joke about how good his muscles look. My mouth goes dry while other parts of me get a little wet.
“Let’s take boxes up on our first trip,” Cade says to Ryder, “so we can see where we’re headed.”
I grab a box and lead them up the stairs and around the building to my unit. After fumbling with the key for a few moments, we make it inside.
“Very nice,” Cade says as the two of them walk around surveying the place. There’s really not that much to see, but it’s mine, and I’m excited about it. It’s sweet of them to compliment the place when my entire apartment could easily fit inside one of the many rooms in their giant home.
“You can walk to the beach,” Ryder says, looking out the window where, if you lean in close, you can get a glimpse of the ocean. “I wonder how shell collecting will be at this end of the island?”
“I guess I’ll find out.” A bubble of joy rises at the thought of it. Maybe Ryder will come over and help me.
The guys unload the truck first, and while they’re putting my bed together, I bring up boxes from my car. On my second trip, I run into Dave, the Blond Beach Guy, on my way up the stairs.
“Oh hey,” he says, with a smile and a nod at the box in my hands. “Looks like you decided to move in.”
“I did.” I smile back at him. He’s wearing another tank top, and his arms – even though they’re not as big as Cade’s and Ryder’s – look great in it.
His hands are resting on the rails on both sides of the stairs, blocking my path, so I prop the box against one of the railings to help support its weight while we talk.
“Glad to see you here.” Bobbing his head, he runs a hand through his wavy hair.
“You too.”
He points a finger at me. “Bianca, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” I’m flattered that he remembers my name, but also distracted by the box, which is slipping a bit.
“Well, welcome to the neighborhood, Bianca. Maybe we can hang out sometime.”
I’m about to respond when Ryder comes up behind him. “Hey, bro, could you move.” It’s not a question, but a command.
Dave steps to the side, jerking his head around to see who’s talking. Ryder’s face is hard, with an expression I’m not sure I’ve ever seen, even when he’s arguing with his brothers.
“Let her through,” Ryder says, pushing past Dave and hefting the box out of my arms. “I’ve got it, B.” His tone with me is softer but still edged with irritation.
“I had it,” I tell him in protest. I’m glad to be relieved of the heavy box but I’m not liking his attitude. Not at all.