Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“Yeah, you’re right. I know you are. I just didn’t expect it to lead to this. Mel has no idea what she’s going to come back to once the truth comes out.” Yeah, the whispers are running wild already. I’m sure it’s Zach and his crew pinning this all on Stormy, especially with the way we left the ceremony—her dress in shambles, my hand on her bare back. Sure, I could have given her my suit jacket, but there was a sick part of me that wanted people to believe she was mine. I wasn’t around much when Mel was in high school, not even through her college years either. Too busy chasing the dollar, so I had no idea of knowing much about Stormy until I came back a few years ago and started planting some roots. I’d see her here and there, wave hello, admire her beauty, but I kept my fucking hands to myself. She was already tied to douchebag Zach, way too young, or so I thought. And now, here we are. There’s no damn way I’d ever let her go now.
“All you can do is love her, man. The rest is up to Mel. I appreciate you looking out for the bar and being a line of communication for Stormy. I’ll touch base when I can.” My swim trunks are already on. I’m ready to hang up and spend the remainder of my time with Stormy.
“The least I can do. Alright, go spend time with your woman, and be safe, brother.” Jack gets the memo, thank fuck.
“Will do.” We hang up. The half-packed duffel bag can wait. I grab my baseball cap. My sunglasses have been hijacked by a raven-haired beauty who’s currently trying to kill me with the white bathing suit she’s wearing. A tie at the back of her neck and between her fantastic fucking tits, following the ties on each side of her hips. I’ve got plans for how I’m going to undress her. I’ll put on each bow with my teeth until Stormy is baring it all to me.
“God fucking damn it,” I mutter under my breath, looking down at my cock. The struggle is real whenever she’s around or whenever I’m thinking about her. Now I’ve got to figure out how to get my cock to go down. The damn thing’s so hard it could cut glass.
17
STORMY
“Are you sure you’ll be okay with Finn?” Griff has been asking me the same question in a variety of ways at least once a day this week.
“I’m positive. The big oaf and I have things to do. It’s my last few days of being a lady of leisure,” I joke. I’m cuddled into Griff’s side on the couch, my head in the crook of his neck, and his fingers sliding up and down my arm in various patterns. Finn is sitting next to me, head on my lap in its usual place. I’ve got my hand on the inside of Griff’s thigh, my other on Finn, scratching his ear while he edges even closer than I thought humanly possible.
“I can cancel. They’ve got enough guys on this trip.” That’s news to me. He’s worried. I’m not sure what about since I don’t plan on doing a lot minus open my books for new clients. Which, let me tell you, is going to be a pain in the ass. The thought alone makes me want to re-think things. It’s the booking an appointment and not showing up, the consultations where a box-dye brunette wants to become platinum blonde in one day, and then there are always the older ladies who come in asking for perms. I’ll do all of them, especially the last, regardless of the smell, but I’ll be grinning and bearing it the entire time. Sadly, it doesn’t look like I’m going to have a choice if I’d like to keep a cushion in my bank account while figuring out what to do next.
“Why would you cancel? This has been on the books forever.” Griff has a wall calendar in the kitchen with the dates he’ll be out of town. It’s at least one weekend a month for the next six months. I’ve looked and brought my book out with my clients and started working on rescheduling them when I could, going so far as to work on Sundays. That way, when Griff is out of town, I can work the whole weekend and save the rest of my Saturday mornings for him.
“Not really thrilled with the idea of leaving you yet.” Insert my inner girl squeal. Trying to control how happy his words make me is not going to be easy. The harder part is holding back throwing my body into his, climbing onto his lap, and watching his family jewels—well, they’re even harder. Finn gets excited and jumps down off the couch, barks once, vying for our attention. Too bad, baby boy. There’s a man who has it all—my eyes, my body, my heart, and my soul. It should say a lot about the fact that Griff has given me more in the couple of short weeks I’ve known him than Zach did in the years we were together. I should feel horrible about the feelings I’ve developed for Griff because they’re so much more than I ever expected or experienced.