Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“You know damn well what it was for! You’re the last person I want to be partnered up with.” A low growl vibrates from her chest. “And now we’re stuck together for the next month.”
“Ouch.” I pretend to wince. “That’s not very nice.”
“Yeah, well…I’m not feeling very nice right now. Thanks to you.”
I tilt my head and give her a considering look. “You would’ve seriously rather been partnered up with Cameron?”
“Anyone, Ford,” she grumbles with a huff. “I would have rather worked with anyone other than you.”
“You realize that he would’ve made you do all the legwork and then write the entire paper, right?”
I can tell by the way she smashes her lips into a tight line that she understands that my assessment of the situation is spot on, otherwise she’d argue.
“He’s a nice guy,” she finally mutters.
“He’s a high guy,” I shoot back with a laugh.
She rolls her eyes before swiveling around and stalking away. “You’re like a stubborn rash that refuses to clear up no matter how much steroid ointment I use.”
Another chuckle slips free as I flash a grin. “You spend a lot of time thinking about me, don’t you?”
She shakes her head, refusing to answer.
“So, about tonight—we’ll take off after practice?”
Her only response is to raise her hand and give me the finger, letting me know that I’m number one in her heart.
Exactly where I want to be.
Chapter Five
Carina
I reluctantly set the bookmark in my paperback and slip it into my purse as Ford drives his cherry red Corvette Stinger up the long, weathered brick road before pulling into the circular drive and easing off the pedal.
The first time I caught sight of the stone mansion with its turrets and portico was the summer before freshman year of high school. It was the kind of place I’d only read about in the romance novels I’d started to devour.
Mom met Crawford at the restaurant where she worked. It was love at first sight followed by a whirlwind courtship and engagement. Eight weeks later, they slipped rings on each other’s fingers and promised to love one another until death do they part.
Then we moved in with Crawford and Ford and voilà—instant blended family.
Unlike the books I’d read, everyone got along great. Crawford had been widowed for more than a decade. His first wife, Sandra, drowned in a freak swimming accident. It had been him and Ford ever since.
Ford…
To this day, I’m still embarrassed by my reaction to him. It had been so cliché. My breath caught at the back of my throat and my chest constricted until sucking air into my lungs felt agonizing. I’d had the weirdest feeling that we’d met before. And then it hit me that I’d drooled over him in advertisements for a high-end teen clothing brand. The one where they barely wore anything at all.
I learned that in addition to playing hockey, he dabbled in modeling.
When we first moved in, I’d worried that Ford would despise me. After all, who wanted some teenage girl and her mother to take over a house that had been a bachelor pad for the last decade?
But that wasn’t the case at all.
Ford was friendly and nice. He made me laugh and actually wanted to spend time together. When the school year began, he took me under his protective wing and introduced me to all of his friends.
Since Ford was popular—I mean, duh, of course he was—I was accepted without question.
Before the marriage, Mom and I scraped by, living paycheck to paycheck. I was able to take a dance class or two by helping out with beginner level ones as a way to pay for them. Once Mom and Crawford tied the knot, I was able to immerse myself in lessons and took them five days a week for hours at a time.
It was utter bliss.
After my new stepfather discovered how important dance was to me, he built a private studio in the basement. It was open and airy with wood floors and mirrored walls. I spent all my time there and it quickly became my happy place.
Within a matter of months, Ford’s father felt like my own. It was devastating when they split up five years later. I was terrified that Crawford would turn his back on me the way my own father had.
As soon as Ford cuts the engine, I blink back to the present and pop open the door, relieved to escape the stifling confines of the vehicle before slamming it shut.
He trails after me as I jog up the wide stone stairs.
“Not even going to wait for me, huh?” he calls out, humor simmering in his deep voice. It’s like the guy is trying to burrow as far as possible under my skin. “How rude.”
It’s tempting to flip him off for a second time but I’m trying to limit myself to one bird a day where Ford is concerned. Trust me, it’s not easy. Plus, I’m well aware that he takes perverse pleasure in riling me up.