Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
We fucked three times, and I’m still not satiated.
“Nothing,” I answer as I step toward the table to fill a plate so I can eat and get to the office.
“Decky took a princess home, but I ruined it all.” Ava adjusts the neckline of the sweater she’s wearing. “I interrupted them as they were getting out of the car, and she left.”
“Princess?” Callie giggles as she slowly lowers herself onto one of the chairs surrounding the dining table. “Does this princess have a name?”
“Abby,” Ava blurts out before I can get a word in. “She was dressed like a fairytale character with glass slippers and a tiara. Before anyone asks, she’s beautiful.”
She’s right about that.
Sean turns to face me again. “Looks like Prince Charming struck out.”
I’m far from Prince Charming, but I won’t argue with him. I may have spent the night having the best sex of my life, but she ditched me before dawn.
Fortunately, I know right where to find Abigail Duvall.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Abby
“Hey, Abby,” Carrie says in barely more than a whisper as soon as I exit my bedroom. “Come here.”
I scrub a hand over my forehead.
I’m exhausted. I got home shortly after four this morning. I debated waiting for Declan to wake up to thank him for all the orgasms, but my better judgment won, and I raced out of his place as soon as I was dressed.
Since I’ve never had to deal with the aftermath of a one-night stand before, I wasn’t sure of the protocol.
Was I supposed to stick around for a cup of coffee and an awkward exchange about the weather, or do people get out of bed, say goodbye, and the party who doesn’t live there leaves?
I was too tired to sort through all of that, so I put the ridiculous gown back on and fled.
My bare feet pad across the hardwood floor as I walk toward my stepsister.
I’m beginning to believe what she tells me about living a clean and calm life because she looks gorgeous this morning, even though I know she hasn’t showered yet.
She’s still wearing her big white fluffy robe, and her brown hair hasn’t had a brush taken to it yet. It’s a mess, but that only adds to her natural beauty.
“What?” I ask as I approach where she’s standing.
Her arms dart out to her sides as her expression shifts to mass confusion. “What do you mean what?”
I shake my head. “I mean what. Did you make coffee?”
I sniff the air, hoping that will answer the question, but all I smell is something floral and bright.
“What am I smelling?” I question just as Carrie opens her mouth to say something.
She offers her right wrist to me, pushing up the sleeve of her robe. “It’s a new fragrance I’m working on.”
I take a big whiff. “That’s a winner.”
She holds her wrist up to her nose and inhales. “You think?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Package that up, and Matiz Cosmetics will make a mint.”
She smiles. “I’ll present it to my boss this week.”
“Good.” I start to move around her to head toward the kitchen. “I need coffee.”
Her hand on my shoulder stops me before I can land my foot on the floor for a second step. “Wait. I want answers.”
“To what questions?”
She rolls her green eyes. “I really want to ask if it was good, but first, I need to know when he’s leaving because I don’t want him to walk in on me when I’m taking a shower.”
I try to unpack all of that, but with my brain screaming for caffeine, I get lost midway through what she just said. “Who exactly is him?”
She shrugs a shoulder. “You tell me.”
I let out a laugh. “I’m confused. Rephrase all of that, please. Start at the beginning so I can follow along.”
She scratches her chin. “We met when your dad married my mom. We were fourteen. I didn’t like you much at first.”
Still laughing, I tap her on the tip of her nose. “Don’t be a smart ass.”
“I am smart,” she points out. “I’m a freaking scientist, Abs.”
I rest both hands on her shoulders. “I know, and I’m a lawyer. That still doesn’t mean that I know what the hell you’re talking about. “
That sends her left hand out into the air. She points a finger toward the door of our apartment. “There’s a man here, Abby. Unless he’s hiding under the couch, he’s in your room.”
Smiling, I shake my head. “There is not a man here.”
“Explain that then.”
I don’t have to glance back to where she’s still pointing. I know exactly why she jumped to the conclusion she did.
I suck in a breath and look her dead in the eye. “I spent part of the night with a man. When I left his apartment this morning, I stole a pair of his shoes.”
“You what? With who? Where?”