Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
I get that. Even at a glance I’m envious of the cheer I see among the small group of people milling around the inn. “I’m sure you’re not.”
Bethany grips the door handle. “It’s fine. They’re all happily married, and that’s something I’ll never be. I’ve made peace with it. I’m good to let them enjoy their party.” She opens the car door. “Thanks for the ride. Good night.”
Before I can say anything, a big hunk of a man saunters over with his beefy arm slung around a gorgeous brunette’s waist expanding with pregnancy. “Bethany! How are you? I saved you some champagne.” Then he peers at me through the windshield. “You’re Clint? Maxon told me about you. I’m Noah Weston.”
I debate giving Bethany privacy and peace versus making inroads with her family and gaining insider information. It’s no contest.
With a smile, I exit Ash’s sedan and stick out my hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m a fan. You’re killing it with the color commentary this season.”
“Thanks. Other than that, nothing to be a fan of these days except the dad bod I might be working on.” He pats what appears to be a flat, hard stomach. His arms definitely bulge in a tank top that leaves me little doubt he’s stronger than fuck.
The brunette laughs. “You’re so full of shit. You’re working out harder than ever—and dragging me with you. My thighs hurt after yesterday.”
“Hey, watch your language around the baby.” Looking slightly tipsy, he presses a hand to her rounded belly. “We don’t want her picking up on bad habits. Besides, if you want, I’ll really give your thighs a reason to hurt.”
When he winks lasciviously her way, the brunette laughs. She turns to Maxon. “Don’t give him any more to drink.”
“What?” Noah protests. “The night is still young! You want a drink?” he asks me.
“Sure,” I say, then I turn to Bethany.
She looks torn.
I take her hand. “I won’t stay long. I just…Ash is going to be with Montana, and I’m not ready to be alone if that’s okay.” I press my lips together and confess something that, even if it’s manipulative, has been paining me all night. “This will be my first whole year without my parents and…I’m not sure how mentally ready I am for that.”
Her face softens. “I didn’t even think of that. I’m sorry to be wrapped up in my own crap. Come on in. Meet everyone.”
Within minutes, I’ve officially met Noah’s wife and Bethany’s half sister, Harlow. She’s just like Bethany described her—confident and full of life. I like her instantly. I can tell she’s good people. Maxon shakes my hand, seemingly thawing toward me. Keeley pauses her pregnant walk to hug me and tell me glumly that the labor pains have stopped—again. Griff shuffles up next, seeming to take my measure. As we’re introduced, he shakes my hand a bit too forcefully as if to let me know he’s watching me and he’s got teeth he has no problem using if I mess with his sister. I give him my friendliest smile to assure him that’s not a problem.
By the time I’ve gotten the evidence I need from Bethany and turned it over to the authorities, I’ll be long gone and none of these people’s opinions will matter.
As unwanted guilt twinges me, Griff introduces me to his blond wife, Britta, who is also very pregnant. She’s very sweet, too.
A tall, intellectual guy saunters up next. He might be smart, but he’s clearly logged a lot of hours at the gym, as well. He introduces himself as Evan Cook. I’ve heard the tech genius’s name. I had no idea he’s Barclay Reed’s son. Then he wraps a long arm around a beautiful African-American woman and introduces me to his wife, Nia, whom he says is also pregnant. Apparently, all these newlyweds decided not to waste any time before starting their families.
Next, I meet a few of the inn’s guests just before they thank Maxon and Keeley for a great time and head off to bed. Single dad Trace, Noah’s brother, picks up his sleeping son in his infant carrier, waves at us, and heads home.
Last, Evan’s friend and CFO, Sebastian, comes out of the house with a cold one and passes it my way. “Beer?”
“I have to drive home,” I say with a shake of my head.
“Just one,” he says. “If you don’t feel comfortable driving, someone will take you or let you crash on a sofa somewhere.”
I hesitate. I probably shouldn’t stay long. I don’t know how Bethany will handle it. But I need to make inroads, get information. Plus, the idea of going back to Ash’s crappy apartment to spend the rest of the night alone really does sound depressing.
“All right. Thanks.” Then I scan the lawn for Bethany and see she’s talking to Keeley and Harlow, but she’s empty-handed. “What does Beth drink?”