Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Fuck. That.
Burgess made a face and stomped into the moonlight, cutting across the grass toward the gate that would let him onto the patio. He closed it behind him with an intentional clang, hitting every golfer at the party with a look that said touch her and die. And he meant it.
Get yourself under control.
He’d lost her by acting like an asshole. He definitely wouldn’t win her back that way.
“Hey, man,” Wells said, appearing in front of him in a crisp white polo shirt, a glass of scotch in hand. “You’re looking a lot better since the last time I saw you. Mostly.”
Burgess stared at Tallulah over his friend’s shoulder. “Mostly?”
“You still look like you’re being tortured on one of those medieval stretcher tables, but at least you’re up and walking around. I call that progress.”
“Not the kind I’m looking for right now.” Sighing, he clapped Wells on the shoulder. “Congratulations on the wedding, by the way.”
“Heartfelt. I’m misting.” Wells chuckled dryly, before leaning in and lowering his voice. “I hear you’re signed up for cliff diving and zip-lining tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” Finally, Tallulah paused in her conversation with a group of women and made eye contact with Burgess, the sudden fulness in his throat making it necessary to pull hard on his collar. “Hopefully we’ll get a chance to talk.”
“That shouldn’t be difficult, since you’re the only ones who signed up.”
“We are?”
“I mean, yeah.” Wells took a sip of his scotch. “You’re also the only ones Carlos was told to schedule for the outdoor activities. If Chloe and Sig had asked to participate, he was going to give them a false time and location, then blame it on me. You’re welcome.”
Burgess found himself at a loss. “Thanks, man.”
“You need the help. Josephine said something about a revenge dress.” Wells shivered. “I’ve never been happier to be getting married.”
Revenge dress.
Burgess eyeballed the sleek curve of Tallulah’s ass, the way the hem hugged the smackable undercurve of her backside.
Yeah.
The phrase “revenge dress” made a lot of sense.
And he deserved every second of the torture.
Reluctantly, he dragged his attention back to Wells. “You don’t think married women can wear revenge dresses?”
Wells paled slightly. “I’m not going to give Josephine a reason to wear one.”
“Uh-huh,” Burgess drawled.
The golfer narrowed his eyes. “Maybe it’s not too late to add a clause to our vows.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Hang on to that luck.” Wells took a glass of champagne off a passing tray and handed it to Burgess. “You need it more than me.”
On his way across the party, Burgess grimaced down at the tiny glass flute in his giant hand, eventually setting it down on a high-top table without taking a sip. He had a lot to get off his chest tonight and wanted to be sober for every word, because the mere presence of Tallulah after six weeks without her was enough to make him feel drunk, as it was. Currently, his former au pair was watching him approach with a wary expression, shifting right to left in her sparkly pink heels. Matching shoes?
Fuck. She really wanted him to suffer.
He passed Chloe and Sig who were arguing quietly about God knows what, but his destination was Tallulah. When he reached the group of women in which she stood, he cleared his throat and the chatter cut off immediately, the strangers splitting their curiosity between him and Tallulah. “Can we talk?” he asked.
“Um. Later would be great,” she said, giving him a flat smile.
Also known as her signature brush-off. He remembered it all too well from the afternoon of the singles mixer in Amory Park. Well, it wouldn’t work with him.
“Later? Sure. Your room or mine?”
“Actually, now sounds good,” she rushed out, complexion turning pink. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me . . .”
Burgess stepped aside for Tallulah to precede him, his mouth literally watering as she breezed by, stupefyingly sexy in her pink dress, leaving the scent that had been haunting his dreams in the air behind her. Blood orange and basil. How many times over the last month had he gone into her room and tried to resurrect that smell from her sheets and the air itself? She had no idea how close she was right now to being eaten in one bite.
Tallulah kept walking until they left the glow cast by the candlelight, out onto the stone path that traveled around the back of the resort building. Alone. Finally, alone with his girl again. He wanted to melt them into the side of the clapboard structure like butter, get his mouth on her neck and work that skirt up to her waist, but that wasn’t happening yet. They weren’t even in the vicinity of a reconciliation. And he wanted to get straight to apologizing, but once he started, he wasn’t sure he’d stop until she accepted, so he needed to slow his roll.