Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
He glanced at the new blue jeans on the bed and the casual T-shirt and frowned. What the hell was he doing, changing who he was in order to fit into a place where he had no intention of remaining? The minute he figured out how to fix the mess in his family business, he was heading back to Manhattan. Except this small town was growing on him. And so was one woman in particular.
He grinned as he thought about where he and Macy were going tonight. Miniature golf. He shuddered at the thought. Yet he’d agreed because doing anything with Macy was something he knew he’d enjoy.
No sooner had he dressed than he heard a knock on his door. He opened it to find the woman who’d been on his mind. Macy stood before him, petite compared to his six-foot frame, wearing patterned shorts, a denim blouse tied over a white tank, and a pair of white Toms on her feet.
“Hey, all set to go?” she asked. Her gaze slid over him. “What are you wearing?” she asked, her smile turning downward.
He swallowed a laugh at her look of dismay. “My clothes.”
She scowled at him. “But you’re not going to be comfortable outside in those pants and that shirt.”
“You mean I’m overdressed for miniature golf?” he asked, unable to suppress a grin at how cute he found her.
“That too. I can wait downstairs while you change.”
He shook his head. “Not happening.”
Lines formed between her brows. “Why? We went shopping for all those clothes. Just throw on a pair of cargo shorts, and we’ll be good to go.”
He braced one hand on the doorframe and stared down at her, doing his best to ignore the swell of her breasts above the tank top. “Macy Donovan, are you embarrassed to be seen with a well-dressed man?”
“No!” she sputtered at him. “If you want to be hot and sweaty all night, be my guest. I was just trying to look out for you.”
“And I decided I’d rather be myself.”
“Fine.” She raised her hands in defeat. “Are you ready to go?”
He nodded and slipped his hand through hers. “Come on, hot stuff.”
He pulled her into the hall, shutting his door behind them, and started for the stairs.
Macy stopped, planting her heels and refusing to walk farther. “What’s going on? Why are you flirting with me?” she asked.
He met her gaze and shrugged. “I’m just acting naturally around you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I bring out the flirt in you?”
He couldn’t contain yet another grin. He’d smiled more in the last five minutes than in the previous six months. “Could be.”
“Well, rein it in. You’re trying to win your ex back, and tonight, we’re just killing time while she’s at Sam’s parents’ house for dinner,” she reminded him, turning away so he couldn’t see what he felt sure would be the hurt look on her face.
Even though they both knew what their time together was all about, and he appreciated her willingness to hang out with him, something was between them.
Or could be if not for Tyler’s complicated life. At least she was smart enough to remember that.
Macy was the one who’d told him why he couldn’t go out looking to run into Nicole tonight in the first place. She’d also tried to encourage him to go back to New York and not set himself up for further hurt. Or embarrassment, she’d gently added. The last thing he wanted was this woman’s pity, but he couldn’t tell her the truth: that he’d already accepted that things were over between him and Nicole before he’d been coerced into coming up here to win her back.
If he hadn’t been, seeing the new Nicole would have convinced him. What he didn’t understand was why this woman, who was even more outspoken than his ex-fiancée, who dressed more provocatively, and who was even more comfortable being contrary than the new Nicole, revved him up so damned much.
His mother would take one look at Macy and have Tyler committed, all the while reminding him that his feelings for this woman were inappropriate because she wouldn’t fit into his world any more than he, in his khakis and polo shirt with long rolled-up sleeves, fit into hers.
“You’re right,” he told her. “But I just want us to relax and have a good time. Isn’t that what you told me to do while I’m here?”
“Yes. Just don’t do it by flirting.”
“Fine. I’ll try to behave.” But it wouldn’t be easy because she was adorable and so easy to be around, even when she was giving him a hard time—something people in his real life rarely did. It was refreshing. She was refreshing. He was actually looking forward to miniature golf, of all things.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Setting his jaw, he ignored it and promised himself he’d focus on this woman who made him feel good and try to disregard his problems, if just for this one night.