Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” is his response, which tells me nothing. Hopefully we’re going to Longhorn. The prime rib there is to die for.
A light drizzle falls onto the windshield as Keaton leaves campus and steers onto the highway. The Bluetooth kicks in, and a moment later, a familiar voice blasts out of the car speakers.
I look over with a wry grin. “Are we seriously listening to Beyoncé right now?”
He grins back, turning the volume down. “Annika shared a playlist with me on Spotify. Queen B is her number one.”
My stomach does a hot twist. For fuck’s sake. The tug of jealousy is completely unwelcome. What do I care if Keaton is still best buds with his ex-girlfriend?
I shift my gaze from his face to his hands, watching as he taps his long fingers on the steering wheel. He’s got such sexy hands. And a sexy face. Sexy body.
I’m so busy checking him out that it takes several minutes before I realize we’re still on the highway. Getting from campus to either restaurant doesn’t require this much travel.
My forehead creases. “Where are we going?”
He winks. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Yes,” I say irritably. “I would like to know. Are we heading to Hartford?”
“Nope.”
My annoyance increases. Something about his satisfied expression is rubbing me the wrong way. “Then, where?” I demand.
Keaton casts a devious grin in my direction. “That’s for me to know, and for you to find out.”
Carried Away
Keaton
This might have been a bad idea, I decide an hour later. Luke’s expression as he studies our hotel suite in Stonington isn’t as…encouraging as I’d hoped. A muscle ticks in his jaw when his gaze settles on the massive four-poster bed in the center of the room. Then he turns to me and sighs.
“How much is this costing you?”
I know I’ve overstepped a boundary by surprising him with a weekend away. But it seems he’s not worried about the intimacy of taking a trip so much as the cost of it. So that’s good news.
“Honestly, not much,” I assure him. “It’s nowhere near high season yet.”
“Fine, then let me pay for half,” he says immediately.
“No way. This is my birthday gift to you.”
Silence ensues.
Luke stares at me for so long I start to feel uncomfortable. I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans and bite my lip uneasily. “Jako and Ahmad talked to the party-planning committee about organizing something for next weekend,” I say when Luke doesn’t speak. “So I asked what was going on next weekend, and Jako said it was your birthday.”
Luke still doesn’t answer.
“So I thought, hey, he’s got this weekend off, so maybe I’ll surprise him with an early birthday thing,” I finish lamely.
The discomfort I’m feeling is nothing compared to the intensified version of it I see in Luke Bailey’s eyes.
Hoo boy, this was a bad idea, all right. I didn’t expect him to jump up and down with joy, but I didn’t think he’d be this put off by my efforts.
“You planned a weekend away to celebrate my birthday,” he murmurs.
I gulp. “Yeah.”
“What else did you plan? What exactly are we doing this weekend, along with boning on that huge bed.” He gestures vaguely to the California king.
I meet his eyes. “Tonight we’re having steaks at the hotel restaurant. Tomorrow afternoon we’re going to a craft beer festival in Mystic.”
He nods slowly. “Okay. And?”
He knows me well. “Uh, Sam Smith is playing at Mohegan Sun. I got us tickets,” I mumble. The seats are front row, center. But I don’t mention that. He’d probably do the math, figure out the ticket prices, and have a nervous breakdown.
Luke lets out an uneven breath. “Hayworth,” he says roughly. “I…”
I swallow again. “You what?”
He hesitates. “I…” He’s visibly swallowing now, too. “I got to hit the head. I’ll be right back.”
To my dismay, he makes a beeline for the private bath and firmly shuts the door. I sit down at the edge of the bed and run a hand through my hair. Shit. I feel like such an idiot. As Annika can attest, I tend to get carried away when it comes to special occasions. I mean, I arranged a threesome for her birthday, for fuck’s sake. And for her birthday last year, I took her to Paris.
Money has never been a factor for me. My trust fund is enormous. I don’t dip into it often, but when I do, I don’t hold back.
But Bailey isn’t Annika. Annika grew up as wealthy as I did. Bailey did not.
I’m such a fool. Of course he’s freaked out by all this.
When the bathroom door opens, I half expect an outraged Luke to stomp toward me and demand to be taken back to Darby.
Instead, I find myself gazing at a stricken Luke whose dark eyes are slightly rimmed with red.
“Hayworth,” he starts. Then he stops. “Keaton.”