Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
James is clearly thinking the same, given his expression. And then we both look at Brad, wondering how the hell we deal with this. He’s now undoing his trousers, standing from his chair, cigarette still hanging out of his mouth as he wriggles out of them before finishing on his shirt. And we all just watch as he strips down to his boxers.
“Tell me you’re going out on the water,” James says, just as Leon hurries in with Brad’s wetsuit.
“I’m going out on the water.”
“I thought you were quitting to join the girls on the stage at Hiatus.”
Brad pinches the Marlboro between his thumb and index finger, gyrating his hips. I laugh lightly, happy to see the Brad we know and love, as he takes the wetsuit, flicks his cigarette away, and turns away from us, walking off in his boxers, giving everyone in the café an eyeful of his sharp physique.
And the red, angry scratches all over his back. Jesus. “I think he’s cured,” I murmur. “His back’s nearly as gross as yours.” I look at James. He doesn’t retaliate.
“Ready for the water?” he asks.
I check my watch. God damn it, I’ve missed my opportunity. “Nope. I have a meeting.”
James’s face is a picture of indignation. “With whom?”
I get up, scoop my Marlboros off the table, and walk away from him. “Beau.”
“What?”
I smile as a few clatters and bangs ring around the terrace, a sign of James getting up from his chair quickly. “Your wife owns Winstable,” I say over my shoulder. “And I’m going to buy it from her.” It’ll be back in the family—the original boatyard. I’m smiling when I hear Otto and Goldie’s collective curses.
“Why the hell don’t I know about this?” James asks, as I join Brad on the steps, getting a closer look at the red marks decorating his back. And his arms too. Ouch.
“That’s some damage you’ve got there,” I say, ignoring James.
“What?” Brad frowns, his wetsuit halfway up his body.
“Your back. Your arms.”
“Danny,” James presses, putting himself between us, unimpressed and uninterested in Brad’s war wounds. “Why the fuck didn’t I know about it?”
“It’s between me and Beau.”
“Fuck that. I should have known.”
“From me or Beau?”
“Both of you.”
Brad bats his eyes between us, interested, almost goading. “Are we getting on the waves today or are you two bitches gonna carry on bitching over your bitches?”
We turn to Brad, both of us ready to rip his head off. Until we see there’s no need. Absolutely no need at all. I feel a smile pull at the corners of my mouth as the dumb fuck gets his arms into his wetsuit with a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. Something tells me this is a show. Don’t tell me that with the addition of a few vicious fingernails he’s cured and his winning, irritating-as-fuck personality is back. I’m not buying it. But, whatever. He’s about to have his arse handed to him on a plate.
Brad looks between us, his smile slowly falling, and I follow James’s lead, folding my arms over my chest.
“What?” he asks.
I help him out, nodding my head in indication.
He looks over his shoulder. “Oh.”
“Bitches?” Beau asks.
“Bitches?” Rose mimics, disgusted.
My eyes bounce back and forth between Brad and the girls, James’s too, both of us amused. Beau moves in, and I see James’s body engage. “Beau,” he warns, but he’s too late. She dips, spins, and swipes Brad’s feet from beneath him, sending him to his back on a wince-worthy thud.
“Fuck,” Brad gasps, winded, as Rose cackles and James shakes his head, annoyed but satisfied.
Beau moves in and stands over him, her jaw rolling. “Who was in your room this morning?”
“Fuck off.” He gets to his feet and grimaces. “What the hell are you doing? You can’t be going all Lara in your condition.”
James grunts his agreement, his grievance with Brad now redirected at his wife. She rolls her eyes. Worse thing she could do. “I’m fine.”
“I’m taking you home,” James declares, taking her elbow.
“I can’t go home.” She wriggles out of his hold. “I have a meeting with The Brit.” She looks at Brad. “And you.”
I’m falling apart on the inside. Until something occurs to me. I find Rose. “What are you doing here?”
My wife, God love the front on that woman, raises her nose, a certain edge of superiority emerging I’m sure I don’t like. “I’m here in an official capacity.”
“What?”
“I’m Beau’s advisor.” She swans past, pulling out a note pad. A fucking note pad. “Where’s the meeting being held?”
“In a torture chamber,” I growl. Brad’s now the one laughing. Wanker. “Why’d you bring her?” I ask Beau as I look back at Rose. “And where’s our baby?”
“With her grandmother.”
“Oh, so it’s okay for her to pull in resources, but not me?”
“Quit bitching.” Beau smiles and passes, looking James up and down. “Are you going out on the water?”