Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
I grab my bag, praying I kept that bottle of water I bought at the duty-free store. I need Advil and a large black coffee.
“Oh shit.” Julianna stares at the woman across from us in first class who’s reading a magazine. And there he is on the cover in all his glory.
I want to throw up.
People magazine’s sexiest man. I should try to be happy for him, because if there’s one thing he is, it’s sexy. But I’m not happy at all. Everything is crashing down on me. I need to get through this wedding and hold it together until I can lock myself in my bungalow. Julianna will have to stay with me.
My heart pounds as I stare at the magazine. His signature smirk haunts me. I should have taken the picture—mine are so much sexier. Except I gave my camera to Hunter, and I need to get it back.
Standing up, I sling my bag over my shoulder. “Let’s get this over with.”
She nods. I reach up to open the overhead bin to pull down our carry-on but a man in front of us takes pity on me.
“Here, let me.” His voice is deep, reminding me of Rhys, and I want to burst into tears.
“Thank you,” I mutter as I take in a breath. I’m about to smile, but freeze when I stare into green eyes and a fucking gorgeous face.
Holy shit, he’s one of the Saddington twins. It has to be Jax; his hair is longer. Why the hell is he flying commercial? The Saddingtons are billionaires. I’ve been trying to get a photo shoot with one of them for years. David, who’s like a second brother to me, is best friends with Reed Saddington. I tried to get him to call Reed, but he kept coming up with excuses, so I just dropped it. That and Axel said over his dead body, which is absurd. I photograph many big names.
I need to say something, grab my opportunity. I mean, what are the chances?
“Excuse me.” He looks down at me, his muscled arm on display as he brings out my carry-on.
“I’m Gia Fontaine. I’m actually good friends with David McCormick. He and Reed—your brother—are good friends.”
He grins. “I know David.”
“Yes.” I smile back. “Anyway, I’m a freelance photographer and I would love to photograph you sometime. I… shit, let me get my card.” I drop my bag back on the seat and fumble around for my wallet to give him my card, almost hitting my head on his arm as I stand back up.
“Oh God. Sorry.” My face heats up as he cocks his head, his eyes caressing my face.
“Thank you. Let me check my schedule and I’ll be in touch.” He takes my card, looks at it, and flashes me a smile that should make me wet.
“You two need a lift?”
“No,” we both say at the same time.
He raises a dark brow and laughs. Jesus, this man is beyond beautiful. He’s also looking interested. I should say yes and get in his car. It’s Jax fucking Saddington. If anyone can make me forget about Rhys, it would be him. Unfortunately, I feel zero. Nada.
“Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Gia Fontaine.” He hands me my carry-on and starts to walk out. The flight attendants look like they want to faint, and one of them is a man. He smiles as Jax passes.
“Just walk,” Julianna says under her breath because I’m not moving. I’m just sort of shell-shocked that in this moment, I finally admit to myself that I’m full-on fucked.
And in love with Rhys Granger.
She pushes me and I start to walk, not even looking at the flight attendants as they wish us a good day.
“I’m in love with Rhys,” I say to Julianna under my breath as we walk up the ramp out into the madness of LAX.
“Of course, you are. Keep moving. You hired us a car, a limo, right?”
I look at her. “Did you just hear me? I felt nothing for Jax Saddington. I’m doomed to be alone for the rest of my life. At least last time I rebounded with Sebastian. This time…” I grab her arm to stop. “This time I don’t want anyone but him. Oh my God. I’m never gonna have sex again.” Stunned, I wonder what the hell I’m going to do.
“Car? Where are we going?” she demands. Her slacks and white button-down shirt are a wrinkled mess.
“Axel sent one of the guys to pick us up. He didn’t trust us after we missed the flight yesterday.” She freezes.
“Relax. It’s not Ryder.” But what if it is? Yesterday, bringing Julianna seemed like a necessity. Now that we’re walking out into the hot morning sun of Los Angeles, I’m rethinking everything.
A black SUV honks and maneuvers into a spot a couple of cars away. A blond woman jumps out. “Gia.” She waves.