Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Yes, but we need practice.” Reaching down, he takes my hand in his and laces our fingers together, leading me out of the house. He pauses to allow me to make sure the door’s locked before leading me to his truck.
“I can drive,” I offer.
“Maybe next time,” he says, reaching in front of me and pulling open the passenger door. I nod, and I climb into his truck. “Buckle up,” he says and shuts the door. I watch as he walks around the front of the truck and climbs behind the wheel. I shake out of my stupor when he leans over and grabs my seat belt, pulling it across my body and locking it into place. “Safety first,” he says huskily before settling back into his seat and doing the same with his belt.
“Th-Thank you.”
“Gotta take care of my girl.” He winks.
That shouldn’t have a single effect on me. None whatsoever; however, that’s not the case. I feel that wink between my thighs, and I know that I’m in trouble. The next three months are going to consist of me being turned on by him and trying with everything I am to hide it. That would definitely make this situation more complicated.
“Where are we going?” I ask, pretending as if he didn’t just melt me into a puddle with his comment.
“I thought we’d just go to Dorothy’s Diner. It’s in town, so people will see us together.”
“Right.” I nod. “Good plan.”
Merrick reaches over the console and places his hand on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’ve got this, Court. It’s all going to be fine.”
“I know. It’s just... different, I guess. I don’t exactly go around pretending to date the most eligible bachelor in town.”
His roar of laughter fills the cab of the truck. “That’s a stretch.”
“Hardly.”
He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips as he keeps his eyes on the road. His dark hair is styled back, and he has a slight shadow of stubble on his face. It’s sexy, just like the man who wears it. All nine of the brothers are lookers. I’m kicking myself in the ass for blurting his name, of all the names I could have said. Why the sexy, most eligible bachelor in Willow River, Merrick Kincaid? Why could I not have said Joey, who works at the gas station at the edge of town? We graduated together, and who cares if he smells like moldy cheese? I could have sold it.
Maybe. Possibly.
I shudder at the thought.
Probably not.
“You cold?” Merrick asks.
His question pulls me out of my head, and I realize he still has his hand on my thigh. “I’m good,” I tell him.
“This time of year, late April, is iffy on the weather. Some days it’s warm, others not so much. Adjust the heat if you need to.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him. If anything, it’s too hot in the cab of his truck. Specifically, where his hand is resting on my thigh. However, that’s a double-edged sword because even though I know it’s wrong, I don’t want him to move it.
The drive to Dorothy’s is short, not giving time for any kind of awkward silence to settle between us. I have no doubt that’s coming. Merrick parks the truck and turns to look at me. “Stay put.” He then lifts his hand from my thigh, grabs his phone and keys, and climbs out of the truck. I’m reaching for the door handle when he yanks my door open. He offers me his hand, and I smile as I take it and allow him to help me down.
“You’re pulling out all the stops, huh?” I ask. My hand is locked in his as he leads me to the door of the diner.
“No. I’m just being me.” His reply is so nonchalant like he couldn’t imagine being any other way. And I suppose that’s probably true. Merrick and Maverick and all of their brothers were always nice and respectful. They didn’t care who you were or where you landed on the social ladder, they were nice to you. Their parents did a hell of a job raising nine boys—sorry, nine men—to be gentlemen.
With his free hand, he pulls open the door to the diner and nods for me to enter. Not once does he let go of my hand. “Where do you want to sit?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
“Let’s go to the back.”
I nod, telling him I agree, and he leads us to the booth at the very back.
“I know we’re supposed to be seen together, but this looked more—intimate, I guess,” I say, keeping my voice soft so only he can hear me once we’re settled across from one another in the booth.
“I agree. Us being cozied up in the corner will definitely get people talking.”
“That’s what we want?” I ask, because honestly, I’m not sure.