Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
He wanted to know about any other hobbies I had, and more about my family. We’d spent weeks together with only casual chat about these things, learning about each other slowly and naturally. But now, all of a sudden, it’s like he wanted to be an expert on Josie Ives.
Of course, I was flattered at first, but then I became suspicious. Finally, I just asked, “Why all the questions, Sherlock?”
He was completely unabashed. “I played golf with Aiden yesterday. It was quickly apparent I know nothing about you.”
I had just blinked in surprise at Reed for a few moments before I could unglue my tongue from the top of my mouth. “Well…he knew me about thirty-four months longer than you did. I would think you wouldn’t be able to compare knowledge.”
“So, I’m trying to learn more about you,” he said stubbornly, and I thought it was adorable. So much so that I rolled over on top of him and shut him up with a hot kiss, which led to other things.
When we came up for air much, much later, he informed me he was taking me out to a really nice dinner tonight and I should be ready to go at 8 P.M.
It’s only 7:45, which is why I’m still in the bathroom putting on mascara, and not in the slightest bit feeling guilty that Reed’s waiting for me.
“Two minutes,” I answer, and continue putting another layer on my lashes.
If he had a response to that, perhaps a grumble that I’m still fussing in front of the mirror, he doesn’t have the chance to say it. His phone rings and I hear him say into it, “Yo…Rek.”
Except he pronounced it “Rick,” which drives Marek nutty. He doesn’t mind the nickname Rek, but he wants it pronounced right, but of course Reed never does.
“I’m over at Josie’s,” he says into the phone, and I’m guessing Marek wanted to know what we’re up to tonight.
Sorry, buddy. Tonight is date night with my man and you aren’t invited.
“Yeah, sure…come on over,” Reed says, and I roll my eyes at myself in the mirror.
Sticking the wand back into the tube, I toss the mascara into my makeup bag. Reed pops his head in the bathroom door. “That’s Marek. He seems totally wigged out about something. He’s over at my house and—”
The loud knocking on my door has Reed giving me a sheepish grin. “I’ll get rid of him.”
“We’ve got time,” I say, brushing off his worry. “You said we didn’t have to leave until eight, and as it happens, I’m all done and ready to go.”
“And you look spectacular, Dr. Ives,” Reed says as he runs his eyes appreciatively over me. I went with a wraparound dress with a geometric pattern of dark blues and grays. I paired it with a pair of matte silver heels and left my long hair down loose and curly. I went all out on the makeup, and I know it’s got to be a bit of a shock to Reed to see me this way. He’s always called me beautiful even when I’m without makeup and in wrinkled scrubs, but the glow in his eyes right now warms my belly, and I make a note to dress up more for him.
There’s more knocking on the door, this time louder.
“Damn,” Reed mutters as he turns away and heads through the bedroom. I follow him, snagging my silver hoop earrings off my dresser. I’m putting the last one in as I hit the bottom of the stairs and see Reed opening the door.
Marek bursts in past him, eyes all wild. He glances at me, but it’s as if he doesn’t even see me. He spins on Reed and says, “Man…I am about to freak the fuck out. I’m getting ready to do something really stupid, and you better stop me.”
Okay, this isn’t funny, as it’s clear Marek is distressed.
“What’s wrong?” Reed asks. Marek stomps into the living room and starts pacing, one hand clutching his cell phone and the other scrubbing at his hair.
Marek doesn’t answer, looking to be in deep concentration. Reed says, “Marek…dude…what’s going on?”
Spinning on Reed, Marek growls out, “What’s wrong is that my ex-girlfriend, Gracen, is getting fucking married tomorrow and I have to stop the wedding.”
“What?” Reed and I exclaim at the same time.
Marek’s eyes shift to me and he nods as if he’s just now realizing I’m there, before turning back to Reed. “I’m taking a plane out of here first thing in the morning to New York. I’ll be damned if she’s going to marry Owen Waller, the town’s biggest douche bag.”
“You just told me you wanted me to stop you,” Reed says carefully, and Marek’s eyes narrow.
“Did I?” he hisses, and I’d find it comical if it wasn’t so obvious that Marek is really upset. “Well, I’ll kick your ass if you try to stop me.”