Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Grady nodded. “That is not even a little bit surprising.”
Coulter shrugged. “It’s no secret I’m a boob man.”
“In more ways than one,” Grady quipped.
I was about to take a sip of my beer when I saw her and paused everything, including breathing. Shea had just walked into The Barn, and I wasn’t the only man who’d noticed.
I’d only seen her with her hair pulled back, and tonight it was loose around her shoulders. She wore a T-shirt that said “Letterkenny Irish,” cutoff jean shorts and cowboy boots. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
Someone stopped her to say hi, putting his hand on her arm, and a flare of jealousy shot through me. What was with me?
She gave him a dazzling smile, said a few words to him, and then walked over to our group.
“Hey, guys,” she said, hugging Avon. “Hi Holt, it’s good to see you here.”
“Yeah, it’s nice to be out with adults.”
I couldn’t think of anything new or remotely entertaining to say. My gaze kept drifting to her bare legs and I had to check myself, forcing my eyes to Grady instead.
“Holt, you remember my sister Shea, right?” Grady said. “She’s my sister.”
His emphasis let me know he’d seen me staring. Grady had always been overprotective of Shea.
“Of course I remember Shea. She’s been letting my son bug her at work and he’s crazy about her.”
She turned her megawatt smile on me and I felt a stirring in my chest. What was it about her that I couldn’t look away from?
It was everything. She was beautiful but also funny and sweet. I’d never seen a woman be so nurturing to my children and damn if it didn’t make her irresistible to me. Spencer hadn’t been excited about much of anything since his mom left, and Shea had brought back his enthusiasm.
“How did your birdhouses turn out?” she asked me.
“Marley painted hers purple with a rainbow roof. It turned out great. Spence tried to blend colors together, so his is gray, and mine...well, it won’t be winning any birdhouse awards.”
“It has boobs on it, though,” Coulter said.
I shook my head as Shea gave me an alarmed look. “No, it doesn’t.”
“I need another beer,” Coulter said. “Anybody want a drink?”
Everyone passed, and as soon as he was gone, Avon smiled up at Grady. “Want to dance?”
“Absolutely.”
They headed back to the dance floor, leaving Shea and me alone. Our eyes met and we both smiled and looked away. I felt like a nervous high school kid at a homecoming dance.
“Hey, thanks for baking cookies with the kids today,” I said. “They were really excited to give cookies to their grandparents.”
“I loved it. They’re really great kids, Holt. You’ve done a great job with them.”
It wasn’t the time or the place to tell her I’d been too busy with hockey to be much of a dad until a year ago. So, instead, I said the only thing that came to mind.
“We could dance. If you want to, I mean.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Shea
“Sure,” I said, my pulse pounding as I accepted Holt’s invitation to dance.
He took my hand and led me onto the dance floor, the curious gazes of bystanders following us. We’d be the talk of the town by tomorrow morning, thanks to the churning rumor mill.
He put a hand on my hip and I silently warned myself to be cool. I didn’t come to these things often because I was usually busy planning the next day’s menu and closing down the kitchen for the day. Evenings were my quiet time.
Grady and Avon had talked me into coming tonight, though, and I’d expected to just hang out with them and talk. The only men I’d danced with in a long time were Grady and Coulter. There was no possibility of sparks flying between me and my brother’s best friend.
With Holt, though? There was an entire gymnastics meet happening in my stomach. I was used to having his kids as a buffer between us, the attention mostly on them.
“You okay?” he asked me as we moved in time to the music.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
We were close enough that I could detect notes of cedar in his cologne. He wore a short-sleeved button-down shirt, jeans and cowboy boots, looking every inch the Beard native he was.
There was also an element of newness, though. He’d changed since leaving right after high school to play pro hockey. I felt a pull not just toward the boy I’d crushed on but the man he’d become.
“Hey, I have a favor to ask,” he said.
“Sure, hit me.”
The corners of his lips tugged up in a sheepish grin. “Spencer told me he wants you to teach him how to cook since his old man is so terrible at it.”
I laughed. “Is that true?”
“Entirely. When my ex-wife left, I was still playing hockey, so I had to hire a full-time nanny and she cooked for the kids. But once I retired, I wanted to take care of the kids on my own. We all learned some hard lessons that first month or so.”