Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
I snorted in amusement. I admired him, though—and Darius. They’d always taken it upon themselves to teach their loved ones self-defense and gun safety. Jake had been much the same. It was because of him I’d learned. He’d brought me to a range back when we’d been in college. Of course, he hadn’t known that I’d been the last person on earth who should own a gun. These days, I kept it stowed away in a small gun safe in my nightstand.
The girls returned, and I did a double take at everything they were carrying on two big trays.
I’d bought two bags of chips, but evidently that hadn’t been enough.
“There’s no way you found all this in my kitchen,” I stated.
The tray Pipsqueak set down on the table was packed with smaller bowls of probably six or seven different types of chips, nuts, and mini pretzels.
Angel’s tray had mixers, ice, and all the booze, and I didn’t know how much she thought we were going to drink. I just wanted a few beers and maybe a whiskey or two. No need for vodka, gin, tequila, and rum.
“No, we found it at the store.” Pipsqueak smirked and took her seat next to me. “What? It’s impossible to pick just one or two bags for you. You have a dozen kinds you call favorites.”
Because that was what Elise did. She wanted to get my favorites.
“You’re something else.” I smiled and shook my head.
“I know,” she replied cheekily and popped a couple chips into her mouth.
I chuckled and snagged one of the cold beers, feeling the same way I had this morning. There was a sense of bliss when I was around her. Without fail, she made every day better.
“Just so everyone is clear,” Angel announced, “I’m mixing all the drinks tonight. According to Ryan, I need practice.”
Ryan smirked. “To be fair, it’s according to the customers too.”
She glared up at him.
He cocked a brow, and it made her stop instantly.
Interesting dynamic, to say the least.
“Okay, can you make me something?” Pipsqueak asked. “I like it sweet and tart.”
Sweet and tart sounded about right.
As the last light left the sky and after everyone had enjoyed a few drinks, it was too easy to take a trip down memory lane and give Angel a bigger picture of the Quinn family. Through tipsy tales, she got to meet Jake. Ryan told her about the time he, Darius, Jake, and Ethan had hotwired their dad’s car as a way to teach James to never say, “I ain’t givin’ you the key, so good luck.”
I shared a story of when all of us had proclaimed we were never settling down with kids, and Jake had pointed to us and said we were dead wrong. One day, we’d all end up with some runts.
Angel snuck a teasing look at Ry, who chuckled.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s possible that only Darius and Ethan still believe they’ll never settle down.”
“Aw, you two will make such cute babies.” Pipsqueak beamed at the happy couple.
“One day.” Ryan leaned in and kissed Angel’s temple.
I drained the last of my beer and side-eyed Pipsqueak. She’d probably want kids too. She was already amazing with Grace.
“All right, bartender,” I said. “I could go for a drink. What do you recommend?”
Ryan grinned and lifted his brows at me, and I merely smiled. I knew it was the question bartenders loathed. Angel would have to work on that too, right? Working at Ryan’s bar ensured she’d get that question a lot.
“Umm.” She tapped her chin. “Do you like rum?”
“Depends,” I said pensively. “Sometimes it’s the best thing since sliced bread, and sometimes it turns my stomach.”
She furrowed her brow at the selection of bottles.
Ryan cleared his throat. “Right about now, four other customers are waiting for their drinks, and a drunk asshole at the end of the bar calls you little lady and asks if you’re single.”
“Well, fuckers are gonna have to wait,” Angel huffed. “And as for the asshole at the end of the bar, there’s a baseball bat under the register.”
Elise and I cracked up.
“Wrong answer,” Ryan replied, looking like he was struggling to keep from laughing. “You gotta be quick on your feet, baby girl. When someone asks you what you recommend, be your ballsy but polite self and say something along the lines of ‘I’m full of recommendations, but I don’t fly blind. Give me something to work with, and I’ve got you covered.’ Then they’ll have to tell you what they like, be it rum or vodka or whatever.”
Angel nodded thoughtfully and then turned to me. “I gotta know your poison in order to intoxicate you, sugar. What’re you in the mood for?”
Oh, that was a good one.
“There’s my seductress.” Ryan winked at her and drank from his beer.
“I like whiskey,” I said.
“Make him an old-fashioned,” Ryan directed. “You don’t need the fruit. He doesn’t like it anyway.”