Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
I move to the stove and grab a different frying pan. “I did give up carbs. For all of three days. Then I realized that carbs make me happy and fuck the diet industry.”
I’ll just find somebody that likes my curves. Like maybe my date tonight.
Ryan pours himself a cup of coffee, stifling a yawn.
“Did you have trouble sleeping again?” I click my tongue against my teeth. “You should have woken me. I would have watched Star Trek with you.”
Ryan tries to be quiet at night but sometimes, the sound of him moving about the apartment wakes me.
When that happens, I sit on the couch and watch TV with him. He’s been introducing me to the best classic sci-fi shows including the original Star Trek. It’s kind of our thing. I guess he’s trying to look out for me since I’m his friend’s kid sister.
I know Ryan’s insomnia has to do with a mission that went wrong. But he never talks about it and I haven’t asked. Instead, I keep him company so at least he doesn’t have to be alone.
“Are you going to the masquerade tomorrow night?” I ask, working to act casual as I pour fresh batter into the pan. For some reason, the idea of him knowing I had to hire a date is too humiliating. But still, the thought that my date could be a creep also has me worried.
Ryan turns to me and grimaces. “I hate black-tie events.”
I focus on the pan. Other than my brother who will be busy at the masquerade, there’s no one I would trust to have my back like Ryan. Six foot two and all muscle, he’s sure to intimidate a potential date that’s shady.
“Why? Are you looking for a date?” There’s amusement in his voice.
The thought that he’s laughing at me, at his poor best friend’s little sister who can’t get a man, stings. “Of course, I have a date.” I lift my chin and hold tight to my pride.
A muscle works in Ryan’s jaw, but he stays silent.
“That’s kind of the thing.” I nudge my pancake with a spatula and drop my gaze. “It’s my first time meeting him, and I’d feel a little more…well, comfortable if you were maybe there. Just to make sure he’s not something dangerous like a serial killer or a low carber.”
He’s quiet for so long that I glance up to gauge his expression. But it’s impassive and devoid of any emotion. “Give me his name, and I’ll vet him.”
Like I want Ryan figuring out that I had to pay a man to date me…or for a night of smoking hot sex.
“I don’t know his name.” I doubt given his profession that it’s his real name on the website anyway. “But he’s meeting me by the fountain. I’ll be wearing a purple dress and he’ll be carrying a purple rose. Just hang out by the fountain for a few minutes, doing that broody bodyguard thing and make sure he’s legit.”
Ryan sets his coffee cup on the counter and studies me. “And what do I get in return for my broody bodyguard services?”
His sexy baritone sends shivers down my spine and has me imagining what it would be like to spend a night in Ryan’s bed.
I flip my pancake and place it on a plate, trying not to think about all the filthy things I’d like him to do to me.
Since I know exactly which button to push to get Ryan to do me a favor, I give him an innocent smile. “You’ll get the undying gratitude of your best friend’s little sister.”
2
RYAN
I nearly lost my damn mind for a moment.
I’d just drifted to sleep and started dreaming. Only it wasn’t the usual nightmares in this one. It was Lacey in the kitchen, cooking in nothing but her purple heels. I was on my knees, tasting her sweet syrup. My tongue was coated in her juices then that damn alarm went off.
When she slipped from the chair and I grabbed her, it took every bit of self-control not to kiss her.
Then she slid down my body and no amount of military training had prepared me for that. For the way her soft curves felt against me, reminding me that it’s been too long since I’ve had a woman under me.
She’s eating her pancakes when the apartment buzzer sounds. “I bet Mrs. Cooper locked herself out again.”
She hurries to the intercom to buzz the seventy-year-old neighbor into the building then reaches for her sandals. “I’ll make sure she gets in. Don’t let your pancakes burn.”
As soon as I hear her leave the apartment, I reach for her phone.
Normally, I wouldn’t snoop.
But the fact that Lacey wouldn’t or couldn’t give me the name of her date gave me a bad feeling.
I scroll through her messages and stop when I see the notification from last night. She went onto one of those websites where you can rent a man.