Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“He’s with two women,” I said drily, turning my attention back to my drink. Even without looking, I could feel his presence in the room. There was a heaviness to it. Like a weight or a magnetic force that made me aware of him at all times. Judging from the relative quiet in the bar that had just been noisy moments ago, I sensed I wasn’t the only one feeling it. Every woman in the building was probably visualizing a fantasy future where Dominic fed them grapes and pumped them full of babies–and why the hell was I joining them?
I physically shook my head, trying to get my senses back.
“So?” Elizabeth asked. “They could be his sisters, and here I am rocking the wild untamed garden. Maybe I could just prepare to blow him if things went well. I could play hard to get if he wanted more.”
“What world do you live in?” Farhad asked. “The guy gives off serial killer vibes to me. Look at the way he is with those women. He’s barely paying them any attention.”
“Maybe they are just friends,” I suggested.
“As if,” Elizabeth said. “When you look like him, there’s no such thing as just friends. There’s only people who want to fuck you but haven’t figured out how yet, and people you’ve fucked.”
“Or married women,” Farhad suggested.
Elizabeth snorted. “You think a little ceremonial commitment before gods and men is going to stop any red-blooded woman from jumping on that sea snake if they get the chance? If you do, you’re delusional.”
“Let me write that down so I can read it to your husband-to-be at your wedding.”
I risked a look over my shoulder and saw they’d all scooted into a corner booth. Marcus and Dominic were in the center and a woman was beside each of them. The one with Dominic had shampoo commercial black hair cut into an aggressive swoop that went from above her ears to her perfect little chin. She smiled and slid her eyes toward him, then rested a hand on his arm. Farhad was right. Dominic barely seemed to notice.
He lifted his head and looked straight at me.
“Oh shit!” I blurted, turning quickly along with Elizabeth, Pollie, and Farhad. It couldn’t have been more obvious we were talking about and watching them if we’d tried. I felt my cheeks burning hot and put my hand to my forehead, ducking down like it’d make me harder to notice. “Is he still looking?” I asked.
“Yes,” Farhad said.
I was about to suggest we all simply leave the bar when I heard a familiar voice.
“Darcy? No fucking way!”
I looked up to see the shaggy-haired, bearded bad date from the other week. He was with a guy friend and his eyes lit up as he came to sit right beside me. I suddenly wished I’d opted to sit between Farhad and Pollie instead of on the edge.
“Oh, hey,” I said, trying to sound friendly enough to not be a bitch but not so friendly that I’d encourage him to stick around.
“What are we drinking?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
His friend took the seat beside him and leaned in, smiling as if he was trying to get Pollie’s attention.
“That’s up to you,” I said. I couldn’t even remember the guy's name. It was something strange and monosyllabic, like a caveman noise. Thar? Mar? Jar. His name was Jar. I remembered now because I’d gone on a drunken rant about it to Elizabeth and Farhad, cracking myself up. I think I’d guessed that maybe his mother’s name was Vase and his father’s last name was Potter.
Jar tapped his chin, smile widening. He got the bartender’s attention. “She’s getting me a Jack and Coke! Thanks,” he looked at me and gave a smile and a wink.
Apparently drinks were on me?
Something prickled at the back of my neck and I turned. Dominic was glaring at Jar like he wanted to rip his head clean off his shoulders. I focused back on my drink, chewing my lip. I’d seen what looked like jealousy when I shook Marcus’ hand the day we’d met. Now a guy at the bar pays me a little attention and Dominic looked like he wanted to go ballistic.
This wasn’t my first rodeo, and I knew exactly what that implied. But I definitely didn’t understand it. He acted like he wished he could shotput my ass straight out the window of The Squawker any time he set eyes on me. I mean, sure, sometimes I wished I could shotput him straight into my bed. The man may be cold at best and downright abrasive at worst, but there was no denying he was the whole package. Okay, the whole package minus a parcel or two, like a functioning heart and a drop or two of kindness.
But if you were looking for a little eggplant over the weekend, he was actually kind of perfect. A guy like that wouldn’t be clingy. He wouldn’t go full Jar on you and appear randomly to mooch drinks off you when you were trying to unwind from work. He’d get in and then get out–pun intended.