Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
The sexual tinder waiting for a spark to set it ablaze…
“Woah, who’s that?” Wendy Ann asks, sitting up in her lounger as Seven rumbles up the drive, bypassing the parking area and heading straight for us.
“That’s Seven.”
“Holy sexy beast and a half,” she mutters, popping to her feet beside me. “No wonder you have a crush. He’s outlandishly good-looking.”
“Outlandishly,” I agree.
“His hair is like a luxurious pony mane,” she breathes. “And I think his thighs are as big as my entire body.”
“He has amazing thighs,” I murmur, fighting a goofy grin as he draws closer. Discreetly, I flap a hand at Wendy Ann. “Now scram.”
“No way, I want to meet him,” she says, pushing her glasses up her nose. “You never let me meet your boyfriends.”
“Yes, I do,” I counter, raising my voice to be heard over the approaching engine.
“No, you don’t. You always made me go upstairs to my room before your boyfriends picked you up.”
“That was in high school, when you were an annoying middle school goober. And he’s not my boyfriend,” I say, with a soft swat on her thigh. “But fine. Just play it cool, okay?”
But I don’t get the chance to see if my sister is capable of playing it cool. The moment Seven swings off his bike—before I can begin the introductions—he jogs toward us with a frantic look in his dark eyes, demanding, “Is she here?”
I blink. “What? Is who here?”
“Sprout,” he says, running a hand over his head, smoothing the hair that’s escaped from his ponytail away from his face. “Mom went upstairs to take a shower. When she came back down, Sprout was gone.”
My fingers fly to my throat as panic dumps into my bloodstream. “Oh my God. Was there any sign of a break-in or—”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “And Mom said she was complaining about missing the party before she went upstairs. Sprout saw the reception invitation you sent and has been begging me to take her all week.”
“You should have told me. You could have both come. But no, I haven’t seen her.” I turn to Wendy Ann. “What about you? Did you see a little girl with long, wavy brown hair the same color as Seven’s sneak in at some point before I got down here? Or maybe while I was helping Aunt Cindy up the hill?”
“She would have been wearing a green dress,” Seven adds, his voice vibrating with worry as he shifts his focus to Wendy Ann for the first time.
Wendy Ann bites her bottom lip, shaking her head. “No, I don’t think—”
“Green and white stripes,” Seven cuts in. He motions around his waist, holding his hands out a good foot from his hips. “With a fluffy, scratchy thing underneath that makes it stick out. My mom said it was missing from her closet.”
My sister’s forehead smooths as her brows shoot toward her hairline. “Oh, yes, maybe! There was a little girl in a fluffy dress like that with the Simons. I assumed she was their granddaughter or something, but maybe not. They should still be up there. No one’s left yet.” She motions toward the tent, but Seven is already on the move.
“Thank you,” I tell Wendy Ann, turning to run after him.
“I’ll come help!” she calls from behind me, but I don’t slow my pace.
Wendy Ann has spent the past six years hitting the books, not the gym. There’s no way she’ll be able to keep up with Seven. I’m having a hard time myself, and I added extra sprints to my cardio regime last month in advance of an obstacle course race I want to do in the spring.
But that’s what terror does to a person—it delivers one hell of an adrenaline rush—and Seven is clearly terrified. I’ve never seen him this worried. He’s usually the coolest cucumber in the room, the kind of man who can stop a bar fight in its tracks with one hard look and a raised brow.
But this is his baby, his world.
His devotion to his daughter is one of the many things I love about him.
Realizing I dropped the “L” word again in my mind, I run faster, determined to be by his side when he finds Sprout.
Chapter 2
Seven Trevino
A man about to yell at his daughter.
Then hug his daughter.
Then yell at his daughter again.
Then hug his daughter again.
Then tell his daughter that she’s grounded for the
next ten years, and that if she keeps
trying to Parent Trap him into
dating Binx McGuire, she can consider that
grounding effective until she’s thirty-five,
or a nuclear physicist, whichever comes first.
She’s here. She’s probably on the dance floor.
Or by the dessert station, sneaking cake.
Or watching the band play and drumming along on whatever hard surface she’s found nearby.
Binx’s sister said that she saw her.
Thought that she saw her… She could have been wrong. Sprout could be walking down a highway in the dark right now, about to be kidnapped, and it’s all your fault, the terrified voice in my head pipes up, making me run faster. My lungs burn as I crest the hill and aim myself for the large tent beside the tasting room.