Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Florence slices a hand through the air. “Nope,” she says, shaking her head firmly. “You’re not going home. I’m getting you a nice, fancy hotel room.”
“Good idea, babe,” her guy says, and he’s really nailing the supportive boyfriend brief.
“I have an account at The Resort,” Florence adds. “You can take a nice, hot shower, slide into a fluffy robe as your clothes dry, and order some outrageous room service. On me.”
That does sound nice.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say reflexively. But then—screw it. Women are always turning down nice things, and before she can take it back—I snatch up the generous offer. “But thank you. That sounds amazing.”
There’s only one issue. I parked far, far away. But I’ll just walk the half mile in my see-through clothes. Surely my pointy nips will stop pointing any second now.
Yup. Any second. Tick tock, tits.
“Let me just call the hotel manager,” Florence adds, stepping away with Bagel and her boyfriend accessory, right as my tall, dark, and still wet-shirted Mr. Darcy returns with a clean towel.
Florence stops, spins back around and says, “Yes, thank you, Sawyer. You’re a doll. So glad Juliet convinced you to come.”
“Me too,” Sawyer says, and once Florence heads off for real this time, Sawyer wraps the towel around me like a blanket, and for a second, it feels like more than just a towel. It feels like…comfort. Like someone else handling my problems for even one night. Something I haven’t had in a while. I relax into it, turn my face to sniff the soft fabric.
He scoffs. “You thought it was dirty?”
“No! It smells nice. Like laundry detergent,” I say, a little defensively.
“I told you it was clean,” he says, shaking his head, but he’s clearly amused, judging from the shadow of a smile on his lips.
“Maybe I just needed the proof,” I add.
He holds my gaze for a beat. “And did you get it? The proof?” It’s asked with a bit of smoke in his voice, with a dirty edge.
I lick my lips, but I’m not sure anything I’m doing in my current state is sexy, so I do a one-eighty and make a show of sniffing the towel again. A long, deep inhale. It’s clean. Spring-fresh. “I guess I proved you’re not just the brooding guy at the bar.”
“You think so?”
After I wrap the material tighter around my shoulders, I hold up a thumb and forefinger. “You’re a little gallant.”
“A little? That’s all?”
I shrug. “Like I said. You didn’t jump in.”
He rolls his eyes, then nods toward the outskirts of the park as the sun sinks down in the sky. “You want gallant? Here you go,” he says, then whirls around and grabs my pink clutch from the dock. Oh, thank god. I’d forgotten that, too, in the melee. “You need a ride somewhere?”
“My car’s about a half mile away in a garage. But Florence got me a room at a hotel nearby.”
“Perfect. I’ll be your Lyft,” he says as he hands me the clutch.
I’m impulsive, yes. Stupid, no. So before I accept, I replay Florence’s comment to Sawyer a moment ago. She must know him through his sister. So, yes, it’ll be safe to get a ride with him. It’s been a long damn day, and I don’t need to parade down the twilit street like a drowned rat. Besides, this man just offered me a clean towel and a ride in his car like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He’s the opposite of my day. And he’s looking at me like there’s no place else he wants to be right now.
Well. Maybe I am sexier in my current state than I’d thought.
With that possibility tiptoeing around me, I take the gallant—and sexy—stranger up on his offer, leaving the ridiculous party behind and heading to a very posh hotel.
Maybe I’ll do some networking there.
With that beard.
4
I TOLD YOU SO
SAWYER
Juliet’s by the gazebo, chatting with a surfer-looking woman with tan skin and beads in her hair. My sister can make friends with anyone. My other sister, Rachel, is the same way. Me? Not so much. But that’s okay. I’m not trying to win friends at this point in my life.
I briefly contemplate telling Chloe I’ll be right back so I can say good night, but Juliet is training her laser vision on me from across the lawn and smirking in an I told you so manner. Clearly, she doesn’t need formalities. I tip my forehead in her direction, keeping an arm wrapped around Chloe’s towel as we head for the exit. In the distance, the woman with the Mastiff is waving goodbye, looking remorseful. I give a nod, then I open the first gate, then the second.
“Your sister approved of your early exit?” Chloe asks.
“You saw that?”
“She’s not exactly subtle,” the wet woman replies.