Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
This is why women turn into fools. Men like this. Like him. Big, chiseled slabs of hunkiness.
For the briefest of seconds, she wondered if he’d been sent after her by her parents to bring her home. That thought was squashed like a bug smashing against a windshield on the interstate. They wouldn’t want her back in any type of focus and as long as she didn’t end up in a headline, they could ignore their overweight, unpopular daughter in favor of their perfect children.
Putting her focus back on the box, she finished emptying it out then pushed to her feet. The rest of the room swarmed around the new guy—Ryker—and she deliberately went back to where she’d been working on the paper, determined not to get wrapped up in whatever fawning was going on.
Besides, if he’s here to try and get some information about Grant, I won’t tell him anything.
Still didn’t stop her own personal wish that the man would reach out and at least let her know he was breathing. This being a friend thing, sucked. As she didn’t have many, she wanted to horde the ones she had and keep them. Especially since she could count the number of them on one hand and have three fingers left over. Grant wasn’t getting rid of her that quickly.
Lifting her head to crack her neck, she found that blue stare focused on her once more. With a slow, definitely uninterested blink, Rayla got back to work.
* * *
Jack “Ryker” Owens very well may have fallen in love in the past few minutes. The building, a warehouse set up for the holidays, swarmed with men and women in little clothing because it was hot as the devil’s playground outside. While air conditioning ran, there was still a lot of in and out travel, and the locals wore clothing suited to that. Which meant women in tiny tank tops, some perhaps in a bikini top and shorts that barely passed their asses. He understood and he didn’t disprove, aware they would change when this spot opened up to the tourists waiting to get in here and experience the fun and thrills of Christmas in the middle of this blistering July.
None of that mattered though because through all the chaos and yelling his gaze had landed smack on a woman who most assuredly didn’t want to be in the center of attention. Her skin was a beautiful blend of smooth pecans with a hint of cinnamon blended into a syrup. Much like everyone in here with longer hair, hers was gathered up away from her neck, however, a few rebellious curls fell around her temples, dropping to her shoulders.
He'd had to lock his knees to keep from pushing through the entire swarm around him and going to her side. His teammate and one of his best friends, Preston Marks had told him that love was going to find him and smack him out of left field, sending him for a loop. At the time, he’d simply figured the man was missing the woman he’d met in Maine and had been nostalgic.
Now I believe I owe the man an apology.
Ryker was here for one reason, hunting down his wayward brother, but damn it if that mission had been lost to him the second he’d laid eyes on the full-figured beauty in the back. There was something about her.
The sky-blue V-neck short sleeve T-shirt wasn’t anything special yet, it highlighted her full chest, making his fingers itch with the need to tug that collar down a bit more to see her completely. Her pants weren’t tight, but he could definitely see her figure, were black and white covered in geometrical designs.
I don’t know what it is, not yet, but I will figure it out. Like I will have her name.
He wanted more than that with her, but he knew nothing about her. While his body currently read him the riot act for staying away, he wasn’t about to force himself on someone who may be taken or not remotely interested in him.
Unpleasantness unfurled in his gut at those ideas. She dismissed him and went back to removing things from the box before her. Wanting to believe the same bolt of lightning hit her that had seared him, he continued talking to the people around him, eyes tracking her when she rose to her feet and walked the far wall back to one of the tables.
No shorts for this woman, more’s the pity. Those thick thighs, yeah, he wanted to look his fill. Already he imagined them tight around his head as he was on his knees before her, her fingers digging into his scalp as if she couldn’t pull him close enough.
“Thank you for helping out.”
He blinked and looked to his right—away from his woman—to the man who’d given him the job. Nicholas Snow.