Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
For as long as I can remember, Kittredge Evers has been my anchor—the powerful CEO who never let me down, the man who called me Magpie and filled my childhood with treasures. My father's best friend. But when one drunken confession shattered our careful boundaries, I learned how dangerous it was to want him.
Ten years later, I’m grown. I’m no longer the sweet kid he swore to protect—I’m a man with desires of my own. And Kit? He’s still the most compelling man I’ve ever known. Stern, gorgeous, untouchable… and the one person I can’t seem to let go.
Every stolen glance and slip of the tongue drags us closer to the line we swore we’d never cross. But once we do? There’s no turning back.
Magpie is a scorching, age-gap, father’s-best-friend MM romance filled with slow-burn tension, forbidden desire, and the kind of devotion that sets the world on fire
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
ROBBIE
“He doesn’t mind, I promise,” I repeated as I punched in the key code next to the front door.
My friend Jason narrowed his eyes at me. “And who’s the guy who owns this place again? Your uncle?”
“Jesus, no! God. No. Kit is… I mean, he’s kind of like an uncle. He’s been my dad’s friend for as long as I can remember.” I shoved the heavy door open and felt the sweet relief of the air-conditioning. Rabbit Island, South Carolina, was more humid than Berkeley, California, by a factor of a hundred million. At least. “But he’s cool. I mean… he’s not as old as my dad, so he’s less embarrassing.”
“He must be an actor too,” Jason said with a trace of awe in his voice. “Look at this place.”
I reached down for our bags and pulled them inside before closing the door behind us. “He’s the CEO of Evers Media.”
Jason’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Evers Media, like the people who make the Nova Syndicate movies?”
I nodded and flicked on the nearest light switch. The wide expanse of windows across the back of the house reflected warm light from all the lamps around the wide-open living room and kitchen space. “And a bunch of other stuff. They also produce the TAC-9 series and Oxbow Valley.”
“Holee shit, Robbie. Fuck. This place is insane.” He kicked off his shoes by the door as if afraid to leave even a single smudge on the wide-plank hardwoods and designer rugs. “I don’t even want to touch anything. Can you imagine how much all this shit costs?”
I hated moments like this, when I was reminded that the world I grew up in was foreign and untouchable to most of my friends. Jason had grown up in a tiny town in Kentucky and had only ended up at UC Berkeley after busting his ass working and establishing residency in California first. He was the poorest of our group of friends, and it was easy to forget.
“It’s just stuff,” I said defensively. “And you can stop treating everything like it’s precious. I promise Kit doesn’t care. He’s only here like four times a year, anyway. That’s why he said I can use it whenever I want.”
Jason let out a breath and moved over to the overstuffed sofa before dropping himself onto it. “Okay, then. I’ll stop being a freak about it. But please thank him for me. Being able to take off after finals like that… and ride in your dad’s plane. I feel like I’m in a reality TV show or something.”
“Two college grads pairing low-calorie beer with a family-sized bag of Oreos while falling asleep on the beach is hardly going to pull in big ratings,” I pointed out.
He grinned. “Wait till everyone else gets here. People would pay money to see a group of hot drunk guys playing beach volleyball. The money would roll in.”
My phone buzzed with a text.
Kit
You made it. Sibley said the kitchen is stocked. She left all the delivery menus in the kitchen and her cell if you need anything. She’ll come by every other day to restock and clean up. Enjoy yourself. You deserve it. Proud of you, Magpie.
I stared at the words. Proud of you.
Those words only ever came from Kittredge Evers. Not from my mom, who’d passed away years ago. Never, ever from my dad.
Heat flushed through me, along with pride, gratitude, and deep affection. This combination of reactions was unique to Kit. The gratitude, pride, and affection had been there for as long as I could remember, but the heat… that had exploded onto the scene at my sixteenth birthday party when Kit had taken me out on a sailboat for the first time.
I’d seen him shirtless and tanned, muscles corded and taut while he pulled ropes and braced himself against the movement of the deck. Thighs had never been a kink of mine until that day, but even now, seven years later, I fantasized about the sliver of pale inner thigh I’d peeked up the inside of his swim shorts as my eyes had traveled the dips and curves of his quads.
“Robbie? Hellooo? You still with us?” Jason asked. “Should we find some beer and change into our suits? I know it’s late, but I’m dying to go down to the beach right now.”
I blew out a breath, blocked out all those inconvenient fantasies, and grinned. “Let’s do it.”
Four days later, we were joined by six other friends from college. By then, Jason, Sam, and I were tanned and relaxed, much more at home in the house and in full-on beach vacation mode. Our blood was half beer and half vodka, and we were in a semi-permanent state of drunkenness. Sibley had hooked us up with vats of her fresh salsa and giant, party-size bags of tortilla chips, as well as taquitos, tamales, and soft tacos.