Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
“V for vixen,” I clarified. “And you say you’re all brains. You are a very hot, very desirable catch that two men are trying to pluck from the sea.”
“Which might be why I’m in this predicament.” She pointed her spoon at her flat belly. No bump yet. “It is kind of nice though,” she said in thought.
I sank back in my chair. “Getting off times two?”
“Being cared for…” She swirled her oatmeal again. “Being loved.”
It was then that I realized this wasn’t some wild summer fling, a romance meant to last one dizzying season. “I like that part, too. Of being with Rocky,” I said quietly, and we shared a smile.
Her Mystic Pizza life in Connecticut is turning out to be as drama filled and complex as mine, but maybe it’s how it was always supposed to be for us. Twisted, messy, and so far out of the ordinary.
On the dinghy, I catch Oliver looking over at Jake. He stares at him for even longer than I think Jake realizes. I know they both want what’s best for Hailey. Beyond that, I really have no clue what they’re thinking.
Jake ensures no one else waits for the dinghy ride, then unties the rope from the cleats on the dock.
Trevor Tinrock sleeps until noon, so he’s not boarding, and Rocky always manages to have his BFF tell him the yacht’s “amended” departure time. He’d clue us in if it wouldn’t blow brownie points with Trent.
Hailey flips a page in the paperback. Reading is her go-to boat distraction. This bumpy, ass-numbing ride can’t be easy while she’s sixteen weeks pregnant. But to keep her secret, she hasn’t made it a big deal. So of course, I try to at least help my best friend where I can.
“Jake?” I call out as he starts the motor. “Could we try to keep this gentle, perhaps?”
He looks at me like I’ve lost it. “We’re going to be lucky we make it before the skies open up.”
Great. Awesome.
I locate the nearest life preservers and hope for the best.
* * *
—
Arriving at Victoria Country Club in a soaked blouse from seawater and rain can’t be demeaning if the owner of the club arrived in the same fashion. Half the guests and staff drool over Jake’s carved abs, on full display as his wet shirt molds to his chest.
He’s too hurried to even notice, disappearing toward the men’s locker room in a flash. With the women’s locker room out of order due to some mold issue, Hailey and I end up in the bathroom trying to dry out our blouses under the hand dryers.
She bites the end of her thumbnail.
It’s hard to tell what’s distressing her when it could be so many different things, and I ache to just take one thing off her plate. I can’t, obviously, carry the baby for her, so that leaves the thing I’m good at. The thing that I’m trained to do.
“Hails,” I say over the whoosh of the hand dryer. “What’s the fruit this week?”
She glances down at her stomach. Still no pooch. “An avocado,” she tells me. “I-I think I’m going to start showing in a couple weeks. According to the internet at least.” She removes her lip piercings in the mirror, then tucks them into her pants pocket.
“Let’s talk work.”
“Work or work-work?”
“Work-work.” I refer to the con job, and I twist my head a little just to triple-check no one is in the stalls before I ask, “What part is stressing you out?”
“Trent keeps asking me about Oliver. Like…teasing me about him.” Asshole. “And Rocky said I need to show disinterest in the whole conversation, but it’s hard.” She sighs at the hand dryer. “Even if I pretend to read a book, I still feel my face get red. I can’t turn that off.”
“You and my brother hid a romance from us for years. You’re experts.”
“We hid that we were hooking up,” she counters. “What’s happening now feels different…” Her cheeks redden. “I’m blushing, aren’t I?”
I shake my head. “No. You’re ghostly.”
“Liar. There are mirrors all around us, Phebs.”
“I can’t help myself. Lying is in my DNA,” I say, and we both smile together.
Hers vanishes into a wave of nerves. “I worry Trent won’t even want to propose if he thinks I’m in love with someone else. Then I worry that if he does propose, he won’t believe I want to be his wife if I’m in love with another man.”
“You’re way overthinking this.”
“It’s what I do.” The whoosh suddenly stops, and Hailey slams a hand at the button to restart the dryer for me. Her platinum hair frizzes around her face.
“Not anymore,” I declare, keeping my shirt under the dryer. “You need to stay in the moment. Not bunny-hop twenty steps ahead of us and obsess over all the different outcomes. Okay, think about Trent having gangrene on his penis when you’re around him. That is your mission.”