Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Loves. Really? Maybe he’s just a better actor than me.
Of course he’s a good actor, my mind oh-so helpfully supplies. There wouldn’t be bidding wars to spend a night in his bed otherwise. Because his attraction has to be more about sex, right? No woman would pay huge numbers for just a quick screw, even with someone who can make knickers disintegrate at the mere quirk of a brow.
I wonder if he’s interested in what’s in her knickers? The brunette standing next to him, chatting animatedly. The brunette with a spectacularly large bottom, I think to myself quite uncharitably.
“Remy, come dance with me.” Rose stands suddenly, pulling on his hand.
“Ma, Rose. There isn’t really a dance floor,” he answers, amused. And yet as she tugs on his hand, his body follows the rhythms of hers.
“When have you ever needed a designated space to put your hands on me?” she says, firing me a wink over her shoulder.
I look up from watching the pair as Rhett drops to the seat Rose vacated. “That was a big sigh.”
“Was it?” I shoot him a short smile. “I was just thinking I should go. I promised to tuck Lulu in.”
The kids have gone off to watch a movie with Arianne. It’s probably a good idea for me to head off because watching him flirt (watching her flirt with him, as the case may be) is making me feel more stabby than I have a right to be.
But my God, Kim K has nothing on that arse. I can’t see her face so I’m able to console myself with the thought that she might look like a bucket full of bumholes.
“Arianne might have a chin like a Viking but she’s great with the ankle biters.”
“She should be. It’s her job.” And one she’ll be paid for very well, if I know Rose.
“I’m just saying you should stay. Relax. Enjoy yourself for a bit.”
“Do you think it’s my turn to get a round of drinks in or something?” I quirk a teasing brow as I turn to face him.
“There’s no being nice to you,” Everett grumbles, folding his arms over his chest.
My attention returns to the bar at the same moment as the woman flicks the shimmering sheet of her dark hair over her shoulder. I get a glimpse of her almost feline beauty and my heart sinks to my strappy heels. She’s gorgeous, and not one bit like a bucket full of you know whats. She’s perfectly pulled together. I bet she never gets a black eye from being thumped by one of her kids. Current or future. She looks like the kind of woman who always has a perfect manicure, unlike me. I’ve already torn a fingernail after Rose treated us to a mani-pedi this afternoon. She’ll be one of those women who never has a hair out of place when she wears her hair in a ponytail. And her level of pristine probably emerges from mad, passionate sexy times with nary a smudged lip line.
Knowing I find him irresistible is one thing.
Seeing that reflected in other women is . . . discomforting.
Bollocks. It’s fucking horrible! My sweary brain yells.
I watch as she presses her hand to Carson’s shoulder and, whatever she says makes him grin like a schoolboy. I can imagine him as a kid. Floppy haired and boisterous. But it’s been a while since he was innocent.
And whose fault is that?
Probably not his. Not wholly his, at least.
Try as I might to stand up, to walk away, to turn my thoughts from him, I just can’t seem to. Because I just don’t want to. But I sense rather than feel Rhett following my line of sight.
“Lulu seems to like him,” he says evenly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who’s eyes are falling out of her head.”
“It’s not like that,” I murmur in a tone more dignified than I feel.
“You could do worse,” he says with a shrug.
“You don’t even like him,” I scoff. He’s never had a good thing to say about Carson, as I recall.
“I don’t like many people,” he notes, his tone dry. “But he’s all right. For a yank, I mean. And I suppose for someone who has been through the shit has.”
“What do you mean?” I feel myself stiffen. Does he know?
“Just his life. Losing his mum during 9/11 and the reason he signed up. That shit messes with you.” Everett slides me a harsh glance, but I don’t answer. There’s so much I don’t know about him. We were supposed to have a lifetime to learn.
“And then there’s his family,” Rhett continues, reaching to scratch his cheek. “More fucked up than the Borgias, though without the incest.” He considers him some more. “He’s bound to have his boundaries skewed.”
“You’re making him sound like a real catch.”