Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
The reminder brings heat to my cheeks while at the same time puckering my nipples. Great. Where is that bra when you need it?
“Morning,” Jack says, turning to face me.
“Morning.”
He pours granola into a bowl of plain yogurt, then drizzles honey on top, licking some excess from his finger while meeting my eyes.
“Did you know your nipples are poking out of that shirt?” he says helpfully.
Oh my God.
“Your observation is noted,” I grumble. “Perv.”
“Just saying.”
“Say it quietly and in your head next time,” I suggest in a saccharine tone.
Jack chuckles and shoves yogurt in his mouth.
“Apparently Australians need to take some etiquette lessons from the Brits,” I add, rolling my eyes at him.
“We’re a very vocal bunch,” he agrees. “If you think I’ve no filter, you should meet my older brother Charlie. Chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome, that one. And our eldest brother, Noah, holds the record for getting his teeth knocked out at bars for talking shit.”
I furrow my brow. “How many siblings do you have?”
“One sister and three brothers.”
“Wow. That’s a lot. You’re saying there are three other Hot Jacks walking around— ” I stop, cursing myself when I realize what I’d said.
A half smile curves his lips. “Hot Jacks?”
My cheeks are on fire.
The grin widens. “You think I’m hot, do you, Abbey?” he drawls.
“Shut up. You know you are.”
He props his hip against the counter and drags a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “Honestly? Nobody’s ever said that to me before.”
I stare at him. “You’re fucking with me.”
He bites his lower lip. There’s something very vulnerable in the way he’s—
“Yeah, I’m fucking with you,” he confirms, that brash glint returning to his expression. “Most women agree with that assessment.”
“Cocky much?” I try to distract from my red cheeks and thundering pulse by pretending this has all been a bit of banter.
He brings his bowl over to lean across the breakfast counter where I sit. “Hey, you’re the one going on and on about my good looks.”
That devastating smile should be a war crime. In fact, no man should be so handsome and charming at once. Like, one or the other, buddy. Save something for the rest of the guys.
“G’morning.” Jamie strolls in looking all shiny and new.
It’s remarkable how well he cleans up after a night out. No puffy eyes or signs of a hangover. Still manages to make a T-shirt and jeans look couture. He’s got a runway model build and effortless cool. It’s very annoying.
Jamie goes to start a kettle for tea and turns to look at us. “Lee and I are off to Surrey today. I need to drop in at the estate for a few things. You’re both welcome to join if you don’t have other plans.”
Jack shakes his head. “Can’t, mate. Got a match this afternoon.”
“Abbs?” Jamie asks. “Care for a drive out to the country?”
I’m not exactly claustrophobic in the city already, but I could use some greenery and blue skies. Might be nice to get out from under the gray buildings and car exhaust.
So I say, “Sounds delightful.”
“Lovely.”
“And on the way, maybe you let me try a little of that driving on the other side of the road?”
It came up last night, though from the puzzled look on Jamie’s face, he doesn’t recall our conversation. He laughs, shaking his head.
“Not bloody likely. I’d sooner lose a foot than give you the keys of a machine like that. American drivers are notorious.”
“You know movies aren’t real, right?”
“Isn’t crashing cars literally a sporting event there?” he responds. “Depends who you ask.”
Jamie pours himself some tea, defiant. “Americans are the most destructive force the world has ever known, and I won’t have one behind the wheel of my car. Especially not a teenage girl.”
“The most dangerous kind,” Jack says with a mocking ominous voice.
“I’m turning twenty in January,” I protest.
“It’s September. Ergo, today you’re still a teenager who won’t be touching my car.”
“Forget him.” Jack winks at me as he carries his empty bowl to the sink. “I’ll take you driving when we get a chance.”
A flush of excitement warms my cheeks. “Really?”
“Sure. What’s living without the imminent threat of death?” Jack elbow-jabs me on his way out of the kitchen, leaving Jamie to chuckle to himself as he scrolls Insta.
Boys are dicks.
Once Jamie, Lee, and I are on the road headed south out of London, I come to understand why Jamie is so militantly protective of his car. The Jaguar is gorgeous on the inside and rides like it’s on a cushion of air. Of course, this makes me more determined to break down Jamie’s resistance. I’ve got time. He hasn’t seen me put my mind to a task yet.
“Nate’s got another gig at the Polly next weekend,” Lee says from the passenger seat, reading off his phone. “Should he put us on the list?”