Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
I still don’t know why Bre got with Gabe, but I’ve heard my mom and Shel talking enough to understand that Gabe was safe for her. He didn’t push her to try new things, he wasn’t a threat to the bubble she built around herself, he didn’t challenge her, and he didn’t dare her to explore her fears or take chances. I’m nothing like Gabe. I don’t get the point of living if you’re not really living, if you’re not testing boundaries, exploring, and taking risks. I have always lived life on my terms.
“What was the name of the drink you got me?” I look at Bre when she asks that simple question and notice the glass she’s holding is now empty.
“So you liked it?”
“I drank it.” She shrugs.
“You liked it.” I smirk.
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes.
“It was a Moscow mule.”
“Oh! I want one of those.” Steph wraps her arm through Bre’s. “Or maybe I’ll get a lemon drop if they have the stuff to make one.”
“What’s a lemon drop taste like?” Bre asks her.
“Oh, honey, you’re going to have to experience it for yourself,” Steph says, starting to lead Bre toward the bar.
“Andy!” I shout, and he turns his attention toward me, lifting his chin. “Start a tab.”
“Got it, man,” he calls back, giving both Bre and Steph his attention when they reach the bar.
_______________
“I think I wove you,” Bre says, then her nose scrunches up. “Wove you.” She shakes her head. “Love you.” She smiles when she gets the word right and rests her head on Steph’s shoulder, closing her eyes.
“I love you too. You’re my new bestest friend in the whole world.” Steph rests her head on Bre’s, closing her eyes with a smile on her face.
I look at Scott and shake my head. Both women are out of it, totally and completely smashed. I have never seen Bre drink, so I’m not surprised that two Moscow mules and three lemon drops knocked her on her ass. She’s adorable drunk, and I have to say drinking is one sure way to get her out of her shell. I have never seen her talk so much.
She’s had random conversations with almost every person in the bar, and more than once I had to rescue her when she’d sit at a table and start to chat. The men sure as hell got a kick out of her. The women were another story. Especially when she’d start talking to their men. She didn’t flirt. I don’t think she even knows how to flirt. But just being her, she draws attention, and when she’s chatty and open, talking about random shit like fuel or bears, her cheeks pink and her eyes dancing with excitement, she’s gorgeous.
“I think I need to get my wife home before she’s so far gone I’m forced to carry her out of here over my shoulder,” Scott says, finishing off his beer before standing.
Steph opens her eyes and squints up at him. “I’m not that drunk.”
“Babe, you’re wasted.” He grins at her.
“Am not.” She stands up then stumbles sideways laughing. “Okay, maybe I’m a little drunk,” she gives, and then asks, “Can I have piggy back ride to the hotel?”
“You couldn’t hold on if your life depended on it.”
“Can too.” She places her hands on her hips. He shakes his head then turns his back to her, and she hops on, wrapping herself around him while cackling.
“See you around, man,” he mumbles to me, and I nod.
“Bye!” Steph smiles then looks at Bre. “Call me. We can do lunch one day.”
“I will.” Bre grins, then giggles when Steph shouts, “Giddy up!” while slapping her husband’s ass.
“You ready to head home?” I ask.
Bre’s eyes come to me, and I see something in her eyes that makes me brace myself. “Can I see your boat?”
“My boat?”
“Yeah, I’ve never been on it and I’ve always wanted to.”
“It’s late. I think we should get you home, baby,” I say softly, and she tips her head to the side.
“We could talk.”
“You wouldn’t remember anything we talked about.”
“I would too.” She crosses her fingers over her heart.
“All right.” I stand and bring her up with me then smile when she wraps her arms around me.
“The floor is a little wobbly.”
“Or you’re a little drunk,” I state, tipping my head down to look at her, and she grins.
“Those mixed drinks were awesome.”
Laughing, I hold her against me as we leave the bar, and then I keep holding her as we walk the short distance to the harbor where my boat is docked. When we get there, I help her onto the deck then stand back as she looks around. “What did you want to see?”
“Everything,” she responds, turning to face me.
“There isn’t much to it.” I follow her into the wheelhouse and show her around then take her downstairs to the main-cabin-slash-kitchen. When she takes a seat on the bed and kicks off her shoes, my body tightens. “What are you doing, Aubrey?”