Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“I’m fine,” I snap, indignant as all get out.
“Right there,” he says, pointing to a spot on my shoulder, his laser focused stare on it.
“What?” I grumble sourly.
“A dent in your pride––”
He barely has time to finish the sentence because I launch my fist at him again. Except this time he’s faster. He catches it in his hand and brings it to his lips, placing a quick kiss on my knuckles.
I shouldn’t be smiling. I really shouldn’t be. But I am.
I can never, ever show my face at Chelsea Piers––EVER again. We step outside. The river walk along the Hudson River is jam packed with women pushing strollers, cyclists, runners barely avoiding us.
“Ethan?”
My eyes rise off the sidewalk to find the owner of the feminine voice. Dressed in workout clothes, she’s tall and super fit, pretty in a ‘I’m too sure of myself and naturally beautiful to care what I look like’ way.
Hate her.
Her platinum blonde head tilts, her long ponytail swaying in a disgustingly adorable manner as she studies me with a quizzical expression. It’s then that I realize Ethan has yet to say a word. One quick glance reveals he’s stiff as a corpse and just as pale. His jaw is locked and his usual crooked grin absent.
“What are you doing here?”
Wow. Fancy Pants rude? Never would’ve imagined it. A second later a near carbon copy of Ethan walks up to the blonde and hooks a wrist onto her shoulder. This man’s features aren’t nearly as refined. He’s a bit rougher around the edges, and older by the look of the lines fanning out from his eyes. Though in his own way, just as handsome. My CSI skills lead me to deduce that they must be somehow related.
Four sets of eyes bounce around. We all stand there quietly for far too long, pretending it’s not awkward when in truth it is awkward as fuck. No surprise, I’m the first to lose my patience and decide to take care of business.
“Amber Jones, nice to meet you,” I announce, sticking my hand out to the handsome stranger.
His smile is genuine, reaching his eyes––if not a little tempered. “Jake Vaughn, nice to meet you, Amber. This is my wife Hope.”
Holy mother of all mothers. The brother and the infamous ex. Ethan’s dodgy behavior makes sense now. The ex extends a hand and we shake.
“We’re in town for a photo shoot so we thought we’d stay for Norma’s birthday party,” Jake offers.
“She didn’t tell me you were coming.” Ethan’s voice is almost unrecognizable, low and angry.
Eyes crinkling at the corners, Jake looks off into the distance, clearly uncomfortable. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
Another eternal three minutes passes in silence. I can’t take it anymore.
“Anywho, as much as I’d love to continue this riveting conversation, someone––” I hook a thumb at the stiff standing next to me, “––promised to feed me.” I turn to find Ethan looking back at me with…relief. He’s relieved, his crooked grin back on his beautiful face. The same smile that makes my heart lurch inside my chest…crap.
Time to redirect this very self-destructive train of thought. “Sugarpuss, you know how unbearable I get when I’m hungry.”
Ethan’s lips twitch up before he manages to press them into a tight line. He can’t keep the smile out of his eyes, though. “I sure do, babe.”
Babe? I need to not like that as much as I do.
Something in his eyes draws me in and holds me captive. I’m momentarily flummoxed, my world narrowing until there’s only him. Only us. I don’t know what kind of voodoo this man practices, but it needs to stop.
Someone clears their throat. “I guess we’ll see you at Norma’s,” Jake says, while Ethan and I continue to stare at each other.
“Guess so,” Ethan absently answers. Then he threads his fingers through mine, and yanks me away from sporty Ken and Barbie. As we make our way up the riverwalk, he raises our joined hands up and takes a long measured look.
Judging by his expression, he’s as confused as I am. I would give a kidney to know what he’s thinking right about now. I don’t have long to wait, though, because he shakes his hand loose and wraps his arm around my neck, tucking me onto his side.
Gasp. That feels amazing. So amazing I press even closer and indulge in another covert whiff of his scent, my eyes practically rolling to the back of my head. And as I’m doing so, I catch sight of Ken and Barbie.
They’re still standing there, watching us. My hand glides down from Ethan’s waist to his perfect booty, where I manage to get a nice handful and squeeze. A strangled cough comes from my human grope toy.
“Have a nice trip back to wherever you came from,” I shout over my shoulder. Jake smiles while Hope frowns.