Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
“Or you could join us in the living room,” he suggested. “You’ve done it before when we watched football and soccer.”
Because I’d wanted to make an effort to get to know the people closest to him. Also, listening to the boys rag on each other could be fun. But … “I don’t want to constantly horn in on your time with the guys.”
“It’s not ‘horning in’ when you’re being invited, is it?” He returned the dustpan and brush to the cupboard. “Well?”
“All right.” I placed the water back into the fridge, nabbed a beer instead, and then followed Dax into the living room. At his urging, I squeezed into the spot between him and the corner of the sofa.
Maverick frowned at me when I took a few nachos from the bowl on the coffee table. His gaze cut to Dax. “So what’s happening here is you have a wife who’s all class and beauty but will crack open a beer, not bitch about the shitload of junk food, and will watch live sports with you and your buds?”
“Yes,” Dax replied.
Maverick shook his head. “You’re a lucky fucker.”
Dax’s mouth curved into a self-satisfied grin that said, I know.
Well, so long as he knew.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As Dax and I stood in the short line at the hostess station, I carefully adjusted the position of my rose gold bracelet. It was no shock that his business dinner was being held at this particular restaurant. Many were. In fact, I’d met with clients here on a number of occasions.
With its white and gold color palette, the place was elegant with a regal vibe. Beautiful paintings adorned the walls. The occasional sculpture and pretty plant could be seen. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, ensuring the space was well lit but not too bright.
Tables covered in alabaster-white tablecloths were dotted about the space. Waiters and waitresses weaved between them, smoothly navigating the labyrinth. Delicious scents wafted from steaming plates that either sat on tables or were being carried on trays.
It wasn’t loud or rowdy. No boisterous laughter, no shrieking kids, no babies crying. The air gently pulsed with soft murmurs, low classical music, and the clinking of silverware.
My only complaint was that the air conditioning was a little too cool. Goosebumps swept up my skin, making me wish that the collar of my black jumpsuit didn’t diagonally slash across my chest, leaving one shoulder and arm bare.
Hearing a soft feminine giggle, I looked at the couple directly in front of us. They were so cute. They kept leaning into each other, whispering and chuckling. His fingers were splayed possessively on her back, and he repeatedly brushed kisses over her temple.
I slid a quick look at the man beside me. The beginnings of a wan smile touched my lips. Here we were standing close enough that our arms touched. Thrilling, I thought dryly.
I wondered what he’d do if I leaned into him and kissed his cheek or something. Probably jerk away with a what the hell? glare. The image was funny enough to tempt me to go through with it.
When we eventually reached the front of the line, Dax told the hostess we were meeting others here. She informed us that some were already seated at the table and gestured for us to follow her. Dax swept out a hand, indicating for me to go first. I trailed behind the hostess, my high heels clicking on the floor.
We paused at one point as a large group rose from a nearby table and made moves to leave. One by one, they carefully filed past us. A particular male stopped as he caught sight of me.
His mouth curved in a kind of surprised delight. “Addison, how are you?”
I smiled. “I’m fine, thanks, Beckett. How’s everything with you?” We’d dated once upon a time. He was a nice guy, but he’d been put off by my trust fund.
“Great,” he replied. “Couldn’t be better.”
A heavy hand rested on the base of my spine and slowly slid upwards until it curved around my nape, making my pulse do a tap dance. I felt Dax’s body heat radiate against my back as he shifted closer, blanketing me in his cologne.
“Beckett,” he smoothly cut in, “it’s been a while.”
My ex’s smile widened. “Dax, good to see you.” He held out his hand, and Dax used his free hand to shake it. Beckett then looked from him to me. “I heard you two were married. Congratulations.”
Dax thanked him and then went on to ask him about his family. He was all charm and ease and amiableness as he spoke. The entire time, his hand remained a warm weight on the back of my neck.
I might have contributed to the conversation if I wasn’t feeling a little rocked by Dax’s hold. With the exception of our wedding day, he hadn’t touched me much in public. And definitely not like this. Not with pure male possession. It was making my heart pound and my hormones melt.