Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“I’m not doing anything to my tattoo.” I shrug. “Someday, he will be mine.”
The hint of a wince wrinkles his face, disappearing just as quickly as it appeared, but not before stealing his smile.
“But you’d better change yours to galoshes. It’s the only thing that will make sense for you.”
His cheeks puff for a few seconds before he slowly breathes. “But let’s be honest, nothing about me makes sense.”
“You need to stop listening to Will and Maren.” I click my heels toward him, grabbing his lapels. “Can I just say you look incredibly sexy in this suit?”
A renewed smile slides up his face just as the door opens.
I step back.
“Late! I’m running so late. My brother has no sense of time.” Melissa whizzes past us to the bedroom. “I’m going to need help zipping my dress!”
“That’s all you.” Fitz shakes his head.
“Coming.”
Chapter Nineteen
CALVIN
Jaymes Andrews is the best mistake I’ve ever made. And if I had it to do over, I wouldn’t change a thing.
In my rookie year, I turned around after we were told to evacuate, and I went back for the two guys who were seemingly trapped. I managed to save one. After countless surgeries, he’s still unrecognizable, but he’s alive. He’s told me I made the wrong decision. And perhaps he’s right. However, his wife and daughter have felt eternally indebted to me.
So, if I had it to do over, I’d make the same mistake, because not all mistakes are bad. Sometimes, a mistake is taking a wrong turn, an unplanned detour.
Tonight, I’m going to enjoy this detour because this is my first party at a yacht club. As soon as we arrive, Melissa excuses herself since she’s one of the hosts.
We pass an impressive lineup of yachts and stroll over a wooden bridge to the clubhouse and its sprawling patio facing the water. Jamie clutches my arm to steady herself on the bridge.
Some guy in a fancy gray suit walks up behind her. “As I live and breathe.”
She turns. “Noah!” Her arms wrap around his neck, and he lifts her off the ground, turning in a slow circle before returning her to her heels.
“Melissa said you took a job in Wyoming?”
“Montana.”
“What the hell is that all about?”
“I needed a change. Oh”—she turns to the side—“Noah, this is my roommate, Calvin. Calvin, this is Noah. We attended nursing school together.”
“Nursing school together?” Noah questions, eyeing her suspiciously. “To put it mildly.” He chuckles.
He fucked her. I know that look. I had it two seconds before he arrived. But he’s kind of an asshole for saying it that way in front of another guy.
“Calvin’s a smoke jumper in Missoula.”
Noah shifts his attention to me, stretching his neck and pulling his shoulders back as if he now has something to prove. I don’t give a shit that he’s a nurse and I’m part of an elite group of wildland firefighters. We don’t need to compare dick sizes.
That’s never been my game.
But for the record, my dick’s twice the size of his. And Jamie knows it.
“I bet it takes a different kind of personality to do that kind of work,” Noah says.
I nod slowly. “Yes. Smoke jumpers are intelligent problem solvers. We’re focused. Brave. And then there’s the physical part. We’re in top physical condition all the time.”
“Noah’s looking into medical school,” Jamie announces, shooting Noah a reassuring smile that he’s not a loser.
He’s not.
Nursing is a necessary and admirable profession, as is being a doctor.
“Well, that’s great. Someone has to sign those prescription pads.” I grin. It’s not genuine. I must have misplaced the sincere smile.
Jamie frowns at me. Fine. I’m being a dick. The bigger dick. However, for argument’s sake, let’s say Jamie was my girlfriend. What kind of asshole picks up another guy’s girl right in front of him and spins her in a circle while she’s wearing a dinky dress that shows half her ass when she’s lifted off her feet?
I take Jamie’s hand as Noah opens his mouth to defend himself. “It was nice meeting you. Good luck with school, buddy.”
Buddy. It’s either a term of endearment for a guy who’s actually your buddy, or it’s what you say to a guy you never care to see again. And Noah’s fake smile says he knows it.
“Find me later, we’ll catch up,” Jamie calls to Noah as I drag her toward the clubhouse, where there’s music, food, and drinks. I don’t need another drink today, but I could use one.
“What was that?” Jamie pinches my arm.
I smile at the waiter and reach for two glasses of champagne from his tray.
“No way.” Jamie bats at my hand before I can secure the glasses. “We are not drinking.”
“You suck,” I grumble.
“What was that back there?” she repeats.
“What was what?” I head toward the food, since drinks are no longer an option.