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)
I wince when I realize what I just said. I don’t bother trying to retract it because it’s out there.
“Her?” Holden is the first to spit the word out. “Questions, Declan. I’ve got questions.”
“I second that.” Rook pops two fingers in the air. “Let’s start with her name.”
“Let’s not.” I chuckle. “I’m not telling either of you anything.”
“You already told us you’re fucking someone on the regular.” Rook narrows his eyes. “You apparently do that at your place.”
“That’s more than you need to know.” I glance at him before I look at Holden. “Drop it.”
“We will if you tell us if this is sex or more.” Rook rubs his chin. “Give us that, Declan.”
“It’s new,” I say, revealing only what I want. “If there’s more to report at some point, I’ll let you two know.”
“Do I know her?” Holden asks. “That’s the last question I’ll ask. Do I know her?”
I hold my breath, hoping Rook doesn’t chime in, but he’s dropped his gaze back to his phone, so I answer Holden truthfully, “No.”
He glances back to the ocean as he pushes to his feet. “The waves are calling my name. If anyone wants to grab a surfboard to join me, I’m good with that.”
“I’ll be right there.” I stand too. “I’ll show you a thing or two.”
“That won’t happen,” Holden calls over his shoulder as he rips off his T-shirt and sprints toward the beach. “We both know I’m a hell of a lot better on the water than you’ll ever be.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Abby
I smile as soon as Declan swings open the door of his apartment. He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. My gaze skims over his bare chest.
“You’re more than welcome to come inside, Abigail.”
I let out a light laugh. “I should hope so. You’re the one who ordered me here.”
“Ordered?” he questions as he shuts the door behind me. “I remember it as my requesting your presence.”
I spin around to face him. “You remember wrong.”
He flashes a megawatt smile. “I know exactly what the text said.”
So do I.
I was getting ready for bed when my phone chimed. My stomach flip-flopped when I noticed the text was from Declan. I hadn’t heard from him since Friday night and assumed I wouldn’t talk to him until tomorrow. So, when I saw the text, I had visions of a late-night rendezvous with the man I can’t stop thinking about.
As soon as he told me to get to his apartment, I was out the door and on my way to the subway.
“You’re tanned,” I point out. “Did you spend the weekend at the beach?”
“East Hampton,” he says, looking me over. “Have I ever told you how fucking amazing you look in jeans?”
I glance down at my faded jeans and the black blouse I’m wearing. “You haven’t.”
“I will more often.”
I smile. “What was in East Hampton?”
His gaze roams my face. “Your boss and our mutual friend, Holden. We took some time away from the city to decompress. Two days of sand, surf, and seafood was just what we needed.”
I sigh. “Sounds like heaven.”
He closes the distance between us with measured steps. “This is heaven.”
I take the compliment with a sigh. “You know just what to say to get me to go to bed with you.”
His chin lifts. “I only speak the truth. I don’t have ulterior motives.”
I poke a finger into the middle of his chest. “Are you sure about that?”
His hand jumps to catch mine. He plants a soft kiss on my palm. “Very sure.”
My gaze traces his tattoo. “When did you get that?”
“The chest tattoo?”
“Yes.” I nod. “The other one too.”
His fingers leave mine so he can pat a hand over the tattoo on his chest. “I got this when I was fifteen.”
“Fifteen?” My mouth falls open. “How? Your parents were on board with that?”
“Absolutely not.” He huffs out a laugh. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way, and I had a hell of a strong will back then.”
“You have that now, too,” I point out. “What about that tattoo on your side?”
His fingers skim over the script. “This one I got the day after my grandfather died. I got it for him.”
“Honor your wisdom,” I whisper.
He nods. “Stetson, my grandfather, would always say that to me. When I had doubts or needed to make a hard choice, he’d tell me to honor my wisdom. Look inside to weigh the pros and cons. That advice has never steered me wrong.”
“So, in other words, trust your gut?”
Declan laughs.” Essentially, yeah. It’s how he lived his life. I looked up to him. He was my hero, so I inked that advice on my body to remind me of it every day.”
I glance at the tattoo and the crisp lines of dark text running down his side. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”