Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“Are you sure?” Fyfe asked. “You’re more than welcome to stay.”
Eilidh flicked him a look but didn’t meet his eyes. “Nah, I’m good.” She leaned up to press a kiss to my cheek. “I’ll stop by tonight so I can see the new house in person and check on Callie. That okay?”
“Of course.”
A few seconds later she was striding out of the Gloaming, only offering Carianne a wave of acknowledgment before she was gone. Eyes followed my sister, people whispering to one another in excitement, a few of the tourists’ phones coming out to snap pics.
It was still so strange. I kept forgetting she was famous.
I sat back down across from Fyfe whose attention was on the door, looking lost in thought. He hadn’t seemed to notice the flurry of excitement Eilidh had caused.
“She’s fine,” I promised him.
My friend looked back, wincing. “I didn’t mean to insult her.”
“It’s Eilidh.” I gestured around the room at the people who were still buzzing that she’d been in their presence. “She’s got millions of people drooling over her on social media on a daily basis. She’s not bothered if you don’t fancy her.”
Fyfe snapped his menu up to his face, the action a bit aggressive. “Of course not.”
Thirty-One
LEWIS
Instead of taking Callie home, we ended up at my parents’ house, and Mum invited Callie’s parents and Harry over for dinner. If it made them all feel better to have us with them, then we could do that, but I did want Callie alone so I could get a finger on the pulse of what she was feeling.
The chance never really came. Mum pulled out the board games after dinner and even Walker played, though, as per usual, he didn’t say much. It was good for us. It brought out mine and Callie’s competitive nature, and it was funny to watch Harry and Mor act like a younger version of us, bickering and egging the other on. Honestly, it was just really nice to see Mor come out of her shell a bit. For once she wasn’t begging to leave so she could return to her book.
Callie was worn out by the end of the day, though, so much so we crashed in my parents’ annex. The next morning, after breakfast with my family, Eilidh accompanied us back to my place so she could see it in person for the first time. I saw her pride in Dad as she walked around the home he’d designed, and perhaps a bit of longing. An emotion she was quick to hide. She stayed through lunch, and when Fyfe unexpectedly showed up with his security guy, Paul, I was relieved Eilidh was no longer acting strange around him.
Back to her usual self, she teased Fyfe mercilessly and flirted outrageously with Paul who was not immune to a famous actor’s attentions.
Callie and I exchanged a grin. I didn’t think Eilidh knew how to interact without flirting. Dad said she hadn’t gotten it from him or our mother, Francine, but it was in the Adair blood because Uncle Arran and Uncle Brodan were the biggest flirts he’d ever known until Eilidh came along.
“You miss her,” Callie observed once everyone left. Eilidh was off to catch a flight back to Romania.
I nodded. “I do. Sometimes I wish she’d chosen a normal career.”
“She’ll come back one day,” Callie replied with sincere belief.
“How do you know that?”
“Because every Adair who’s ever left this place has found their way home again.”
The next morning, my body clock seemed to know Callie’s early alarm was about to go off, and I woke up first. Only to discover I was spooning Callie, my morning wood digging into her arse. A plump breast filled my palm, and I realized I was also groping her in my sleep.
Fuck.
Slow.
She wanted to take it slow.
Hoping not to wake her, I released her, my thumb grazing a hard nipple. I had to stifle a groan as need tightened in my gut. Carefully, I withdrew, easing back silently from her.
I’d quietly taken care of myself in the bathroom and when I’d come out, Callie was awake and stomping out of the bedroom with a grumbled “Morning.” She didn’t look in my direction and I felt confusion and guilt. Had she been awake after all, and I’d made her uncomfortable?
I found her upstairs making coffee, her back to me. She wore a strappy tank top, the hem rising to reveal her lower back and the way it sloped from her narrow waist to her curvy hips. The pajama shorts she wore were extremely short and cupped her perfect arse. Blood was traveling southward again, so I dragged my eyes off her. “You know, we never really discussed the sleeping arrangements?” I broached tentatively.
She whirled, her generous, unbound tits bouncing with the movement.
The woman was trying to kill me.