Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“I wish I could’ve been there for you.” Goldie frowns. “No one should have to go through that alone.”
I grab her hand. “You have been there for me. And seeing you and Cooper—I think it’s showing me what I really want. What I deserve. You guys seem to have so much fun together.”
“You seem to be having lots of fun with DR. You think it’s for real? Like, could this be a long-term thing, or . . .?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Goldie, the man I was going to marry broke up with me two weeks ago. Gimme a minute.”
“Two and a half weeks. Be honest. Did you think about Patrick at all today? Up until just now?”
“No.”
“What about yesterday? Last night?”
“I mean, I talked briefly about Patrick with Riley last night. But only in the context of explaining why I’d gone back to blonde. I didn’t really think about him after that.”
She smiles. Squeezes my hand. “What if—and I know this sounds crazy, but hear me out—what if you’d already fallen out of love with Patrick when y’all broke up? You guys weren’t having sex, and you just heavily implied you weren’t having fun with him. You weren’t spending that much time together at all, really. Maybe you were just refusing to face the music?”
Ugh, I’m crying again.
And again, I don’t know if it’s because I’m sad or happy or overwhelmed or what. All I know is that I’m brimming with feeling in a way I haven’t since I was young, stupid, and in love.
Oh, God.
“It’s happening too fast,” I manage.
Goldie squeezes my hand. “Is it? Riley seems to know you—truly, deeply know you—in a way Patrick never did. You’re writing that cookbook, by the way.”
“Y’all and the cookbook!” I laugh. “I’m sorry. This is your day. I’ll get it together—”
“Don’t you dare. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s a lot, yes. But it’s lighting you up. I haven’t seen a smile like the one I saw on your face just now for ages. Whatever’s about to happen—Louise, I think you should let it happen.”
Sniffing, I manage a smile. “He calls me Lu, which I always liked better than Louise anyway.”
Goldie cackles with delight. “Lu, I think Riley fucked some sense into you. Hallelujah.”
The sun is high in a big, blue sky when we pull into a parking spot at the marina.
The door to Riley’s dock is open. Music floats on the breeze—Maggie Rodgers, yes—along with the scent of something delicious.
My pulse takes off at a sprint. Adjusting my bikini top, I take a deep breath and climb out of the cart.
Coop and I grab the cute monogrammed tote bags Goldie stuffed with all kinds of cute goodies for each of her friends attending today. Walking down the dock, I notice the buzz of activity that surrounds Dolly. People in white shorts and polo shirts scurry across her deck. Some are carrying trays. Others murmur into walkie-talkies. Tom bounds toward us, his tail wagging a hundred miles a minute.
“It’s not Vegas,” Goldie says as she leans down to ruffle Tom’s ears. “But dare I say, this might be better?”
Coop laughs. “Do you know anyone else who’s had their bachelorette party on a yacht?”
Despite the bags I’m holding, I manage to bend one knee so I can kiss Tom’s head. “I don’t.”
“Having rich friends definitely doesn’t suck,” Goldie replies.
Speaking of rich friends, Riley appears on Dolly’s stern. He’s wearing a blue swimsuit and those gold-rimmed aviators. A backward baseball hat.
Nothing else.
No shirt, no shoes.
Big problem. Because my whole body rises on a wave of arousal—giddiness—when he sees me and smiles. A devastatingly handsome flash of white teeth and full lips that almost distracts me from the glistening muscles of his chest and arms.
Almost.
He stands at the top of the steps that lead to Dolly’s deck and looks at me, hands on his hips.
“You’re back,” he says.
“I am.” And I mean it.
The old me—the real me—who I was before Patrick, before I buried the dreams and relationships that defined the first part of my life—she’s here.
And she’s ready to have a good time.
seventeen
Riley
Showtime
It’s the dark hair and lit up expression on Lu’s face that makes me smile.
But it’s that fucking pink bikini that makes me short of breath.
I feel a sudden, sharp surge of hunger as I stare, somehow managing to keep the smile plastered on my face. Her tits fill out the top nicely. I can just glimpse an enticing slice of ass through the sheer wrap she’s got tied around her waist.
My hands itch to grab her. Give that ass a squeeze before I kiss her mouth, throw her over my shoulder, and take her back downstairs to my bed.
“You all right, sir?” Kurt asks.
I blink. “Nicorette. In my bathroom.”
“On it.” He glances at Lu. “Lordy. I’ll bring the whole box.”
“Thank you kindly.”