Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I smile. “I noticed you were pushing the peas to the side of the plate.”
“Peas are not my favorite,” she says. “But they make great ammunition.” She arches a brow. “So, are you going to answer the question or not?”
“My favorite color is sky blue, my favorite food is anything with freshly ground sausage in it, and no, I have never had a boyfriend. I’ve only had girlfriends, and I haven’t had one of those for quite some time.”
She nods but doesn’t look satisfied by my revelations. “So, you’re not even a little bit gay?”
I shake my head. “Sorry. Is that disappointing?”
“No,” she says in a tone that says ‘yes.’ “I just… Gram thought you must be. She couldn’t see any other way you could resist a butt cheek flash.”
I choke on pot pie.
When I’m finished coughing and have sucked down a gulp of water, I ask in a strained voice, “You told your grandmother about that?”
She shrugs. “I did. I was looking for seduction advice, but all she gave me was a headache and unfounded doubts about your sexual preferences.”
I choke again, this time on nothing.
Nora claps me on the back. “Are you okay? Do you need more water?”
“No, I need…” I trail off, not sure what I need except out of this tightly enclosed space with this woman, who isn’t nearly as easy to resist as she seems to think.
With the rain pouring down, a head-clearing walk in the woods isn’t really an option right now, but I can at least change the subject. “You weren’t supposed to tell your gram where you were.”
“I didn’t,” she says. “Not exactly. I didn’t tell her who I was with, either.” She motions toward where her cell sits on the edge of the table. “And I edited my settings so she can’t send my brother after me with his ‘track my friends’ app. No one will find your secret hideout, I promise.” She sighs as she stabs another bite of pot pie. “I just didn’t have anyone else to ask. I have successfully seductive girlfriends, of course, but I didn’t want to bother them on Thanksgiving.” She frowns. “What about you? Aren’t the McGuires concerned that you missed Thanksgiving dinner?”
I shake my head. “I told them something came up and dropped the cupcakes off early this morning.”
Nora hums beneath her breath. “How’d your parents take that? I didn’t think McGuires were allowed to miss family holiday celebrations.”
“It was fine. I told them I had to help a friend.”
She arches a brow.
“It wasn’t a lie. Clyde is a friend, and I’m helping him.”
She purses her lips, clearly dubious, but she keeps her peace.
I grunt and skewer the last of my green beans, chewing and swallowing in the strained silence that follows. Finally, I can’t resist asking, “So?”
She looks up. “So what?”
“So…what did she say? Your gram.”
Pushing her nearly empty plate away, Nora says. “Scoot your chair back.”
My eyes narrow on hers. “Why?”
“Just do it. I won’t hurt you. I promise. It’ll just be easier this way.” When I’ve grudgingly pushed my chair away from the table, she reaches for her wine. “Okay. Here it is. Are you ready? This is Gram’s recipe for a foolproof seduction. First, I’m going to finish this glass of wine.”
She swallows the second half of the ruby red liquid in three slow, sexy gulps, her throat working in a way that makes the air in the room suddenly feel too warm. She sets the glass down, her tongue sweeping out to catch a bead of wine left on her lips, triggering a reaction below my belt that isn’t wise.
It’s especially unwise considering the next thing she does is stand and sway her curvy backside from her chair directly into my lap.
She loops her arms around my neck and whispers in a slightly tipsy voice, “This is it. Gram’s plan. I should have a glass of wine, get a little loose, and sit in your lap. Apparently, in the olden days, this was all it took to get a guy irrationally hot and bothered. But that was before every man had free, on-demand porn in the palm of his hand. ‘Twas a simpler time.”
“I don’t watch porn,” I say, unable to resist slipping my hand around her hip.
Her lips part. “Why not?”
“None of those women are having a good time. I can tell.” I curve my free hand around her thigh, just above her knee. “And if the woman you’re supposed to be fantasizing about is faking it, what’s the point?”
“You don’t like fake things,” she says, her head tipping closer.
“No, I don’t.”
“How about temporary things?” she asks, the tip of her nose brushing mine, even that relatively tame contact enough to transform my semi into a full-fledged hard-on.
A hard-on she’s going to feel if she shifts even an inch to her right…