Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
Her—because she was with a man she didn’t like, on a journey she hadn’t chosen.
We were laughing like there was no tomorrow, a never-ending giggling sound, when the front door slammed downstairs, and I heard the voice of the man who had nearly made me come in my dress on my kitchen floor a few days ago.
“Where’s Dylan?”
Oh shit.
CAL
McMonster: Had a hellish day at work.
oBITCHuary: Hey, at least you have a job, show-off.
McMonster: Didn’t you say you worked in the food industry yourself?
McMonster: Oh shit. You’re unemployed now, aren’t you?
oBITCHuary: Thanks for reminding me.
McMonster: Hey, always happy to be of help.
oBITCHuary: I’m super broke. Might lose my apartment if I don’t find something soon.
McMonster: I’m sure something will come up.
oBITCHuary: In the small town of Staindrop? Fat chance.
McMonster: You should have more faith in yourself.
oBITCHuary: Why?
McMonster: Because you’re you.
CAL
“Why Can’t We Be Friends?”—Smash Mouth
“Great. Now we’ll have to sage the whole fucking house.”
Row was glaring at me like I’d just crawled from a sinkhole to suck the soul out of his mouth. Standing next to him was his BFF, Rhyland, who I remembered as sex on legs with a dry sense of humor. Rhy was wearing black cargo pants, designer sneakers, and a white V-neck. Row was wearing a gray Henley, dark jeans, and the expression of a man who’d love nothing more than to attend my funeral.
“That was my initial thought,” Dylan said levelly, placing a reassuring hand on mine. “But then she tried bribing her way into my good graces with treats and gifts.” Dylan collected her hair into a crusty, cupcake-y bun. “I have no principles and a sweet tooth, so you can guess how that went.”
Row and Rhyland had run upstairs when they’d heard our breathless giggling. Row had said we sounded like distressed seals trying to communicate carnage.
“What’s on your face and hair?” Row demanded, his eyes swinging between us with a frown. He really ought to look less sexy. He made my hormones go wild. In fact, even though I thought he was a prick, I never feared him like I did most men. He rarely made my eyes tick, either.
“Cupcake,” Dylan answered airily. “Dot brought me some sugar bombs.”
“Then proceeded to bombard you with them?” Her brother quirked an eyebrow.
“She started it.” I coughed into my fist.
“Snitch!” Dylan slapped my thigh with a gasp.
I winced. “Dude, he is big and bad-tempered and already hates me. He won’t touch you.”
“Yeah.” Rhyland’s eyes ping-ponged between us. “But he sure as fuck would touch Cal, as history has taught us.”
That earned Rhyland a slap on the back from Row.
“Aw. Too soon?” Rhy laughed.
“Behave yourself.” Row’s voice was a lot of things: calm, menacing, and blood-chillingly threatening. Surely, he didn’t know I feared men. Even if he did, why would he care?
Rhyland seemed unbothered by the chiding. “When have I ever? Too late to start now.”
I scooped pieces of cupcake out of my bra, dropping them into my palm. Rhyland whistled low. “In other news, Cal Litvin is all grown up and looking delicious, all puns intended.”
“Seriously?” Row turned to him again. “Look away before I pluck your eyeballs out with a spoon.” Row’s gaze flicked along my locks briefly when he realized that I had changed the tips, but he didn’t comment on the matter.
Rhyland pressed his lips together, shaking his head. “Goner.”
“This time it was done faster than a light laundry cycle,” Dylan told Rhy. I had no idea what they were talking about. I just knew that with each sentence, they brought Row closer to obtaining a criminal record.
“Cal, leave,” Row barked.
“No, Cal, stay.” Dylan knotted her arms over the top of her belly, staring at him pointedly.
Wow. Way to make me feel like a Labrador getting trained to be a service dog.
I looked between the siblings, itching to remove myself from the situation. “Who should I listen to?”
“The person who can toss you out the window without breaking a sweat,” Row recommended dryly. “And has every inclination to do so.”
“The person whom you’d like to make amends with.” Dylan dipped a finger into my bra and sucked some icing into her mouth. “And is also on bed rest and shan’t become upset.”
I firmly planted my ass back on her bed, sending Row an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, buddy. Not gonna make the same mistake twice.”
“Speaking of mistakes, how’s that baby cookin’, Dylan?” Rhyland asked conversationally, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.
Row shot him a pissed-off look, which, in my humble opinion, was the only look he was capable of. “Hey, shithead, don’t you have new staff to find me?”
“You need new staff?” Dylan cocked her head. “How come?”
Actually, I was intrigued too. He owned a bougie restaurant. The tips must be divine. And I was used to working for top-notch eateries in Manhattan. Plus, it would show Dylan that I could keep my hands to myself this time. I was going to be platonic and professional with that mountain man.