Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Nah, that's not true,” Easton argues, but I know it is.
“It's kinda true,” Tatum interjects. “I mean, we would've gotten engaged eventually, I'm sure.”
Easton sighs. “Fine, I will agree to this on one condition.”
I'm immediately giddy. “Okay, what is it?”
Just then, the front door opens and slams shut. I look to the lower level and see Finn wearing an angry expression.
Of fucking course. It'd probably kill him to be in a good mood.
“Great, he's back,” I mumble with a groan.
“Uh, who?” Easton asks.
“Finn,” I tell them. “The innkeeper's grandson whose only life goal is to make mine miserable.”
That's how I explained who Finn was before we started fake dating. I'm still questioning why I agreed to that in the first place.
“The one you're staying with while you're there?” Tatum smirks. We talked about this job for weeks before I flew here. I hadn't realized I’d have a babysitter the entire time, though.
“Yep.” I grind out between my teeth, then move closer to the screen and whisper, “Please come rescue me.”
They pinch their lips as if they're trying to hold back laughter, and I glower at their amusement.
“Oh my God.” I roll my eyes as I watch Finn. “He just tossed his boots in the middle of the living room, then flung his shirt on the back of the couch. Oh, now he's digging through the fridge like a strung-out raccoon. Christ, they're raising barbarians out here!” I squeal as I watch him trash the downstairs area. My painting supplies are on the table, and my canvas is still on the easel, and I almost yell at him to be careful as he storms past it. The last thing I need is his negative aura rubbing off on my masterpiece.
Now they're both hysterically laughing at my expense.
“Just...give him a chance,” Tatum says. “They're culturally different up there.”
I furrow my brow at her attempt to excuse his asshole ways.
“It's not just that he's a slob, he's a jerk and all-around rude host. He brought a pizza in last night and ate the entire thing! Didn't even offer me one slice.”
“Did you ask for one?” Easton asks.
“No, but I shouldn't have to. It's called manners. Clearly, something he doesn't have.”
He should've known I hadn't had dinner since I had no way to get to the inn to eat. I'd expected him to at least text and ask if I wanted anything, but he didn't. When he came home, I smelled pizza and anticipated him offering me some.
He’s either greedy or selfish. I haven’t figured out which yet.
“I'm gonna take a bath. Maybe you should too. Try to relax,” Tatum suggests.
I scowl at the thought. “I'm not soaking in that tub. It probably hasn't been cleaned since the day it was built, which was a hundred years ago. How could anyone forget?”
“Then take a walk to blow off some steam,” Easton chimes in.
I exhale slowly. “Shoving my fist in his mouth would help with that.”
“Okay, well, don't do that. This is a great job opportunity, so don't mess it up just because you want to bang the asshole who won't give you the time of day,” my sister taunts.
My jaw drops. “That is so not true. He'd probably give me rabies.”
“Oakley Jane! Be nice.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine.”
“Bye, sis,” Easton singsongs.
“Wait, don't think I forgot about our agreement! Magnolia Rayne has an adorable ring to it, don't ya think?” I blurt out quickly.
“Oh hell no. We're not naming our child after a flower.” Easton responds, then looks at Tatum for backup, but when she ignores him, he continues, “Babe?”
She finally faces him. “I kinda like it.”
“Yes! I win!” I cheer.
“We'll talk later.” Tatum quickly tells me goodbye and ends the call.
I smirk, knowing she'll wear Easton down until we both get our way.
Once I’m dressed, I throw my wet hair into a messy bun, then make my way downstairs.
“What's your deal?” I pick up his shirt and boots before dropping them on the coffee table with a thud. “Can you at least try to clean up after yourself while I’m here?”
He chugs his beer and glares at me over the rim.
I scoff. “What's up your ass?”
“This is my house,” he growls. “But if we’re offering suggestions, stay out of my bed for once.”
I place a hand on my hip. “Pretty sure you liked me being in your bed this morning.”
He slams his beer bottle on the table, then stands and walks to the bathroom.
Jesus Christ. Someone must have pissed in his Cheerios because he's being more of an asshole than usual.
Moments later, I hear the water running and let out a long sigh.
Hopefully, he gets over his problem by the time he’s finished showering because I refuse to take his infant attitude.
CHAPTER EIGHT
FINN
DAY 6
Yesterday after my shower, Oakley curled up on the couch with a book, and we didn’t speak for the rest of the evening. When she thought I fell asleep, she slid under the blankets and stayed on her side of the mattress all night.