Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 130255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
I wanted my friend to be happy after his previous nightmare of a relationship.
There was nothing between me and Ellie. Not like that. No matter how many times he insisted this was a date.
I stepped under the flow of hot water and closed my eyes, letting it wash away all my worries. Perhaps this was a bad idea. I wouldn’t know until we’d gone through with it, and even then, it was a bit too late.
It didn’t matter.
I finished up in the shower and turned off the water, then wrapped a towel around my waist and trudged back across the hall to my bedroom. My phone lit up with a notification, and I walked over to the bed where I’d left it and picked it up.
A spam email.
Waste of time.
The other notification was a text from Fred.
FRED: Romance isn’t the end of the world, Max. You’re not your dad, you know.
I clenched my jaw and threw my phone back down, turning away. I knew that, but it didn’t make it easier. I didn’t want to think about that man either—he was where he belonged.
Six feet underground.
Preferably several lower so he was somewhere in Hell that Dante hadn’t yet discovered.
It didn’t matter.
I wasn’t going to dwell on thoughts of my father. It would do nothing but make me miserable, and I wasn’t the best person to be around when I was miserable.
So no.
Fuck that.
I would think about something else.
• • •
I pulled up outside Greygarth Lodge at six-twenty-eight on the dot, a whole two minutes early, and looked over at the house.
What the fuck was I doing?
Taking Ellie out for dinner?
I shook my head to clear it of any wayward thoughts that might just end up proving Fred right and got out of the car. I was tempted to just beep the horn, but if my grandmother found out I’d done that, I’d never hear the end of it.
Instead, I’d be a gentleman.
I walked up to the door and raised my fist to knock when it swung open. Ellie stood on the other side with her bag clutched to her stomach, and her eyes slowly widened when she saw me on the other side of the door.
But I could barely pay attention to that.
She wore a black dress that hugged her upper body before flaring out at her waist into a full skirt. There was a cut-out on her chest that gave a hint of her cleavage, and she wore the kind of heels that you didn’t take off in the bedroom.
They were the ultimate fuck-me heels.
They were even pink.
Shit.
She cleared her throat. “I thought you’d wait in the car.”
I dragged my gaze up from her body to meet her eyes. She was just as beautiful up there—her fiery hair fell to her shoulders in loose curls, and her makeup perfectly accentuated her pretty dark blue eyes.
And her fucking lips matched her shoes.
Mother of God. I was bloody screwed.
“I considered beeping, but thought you’d end up telling my grandmother and I’d never hear the end of it,” I admitted. “You look…”
I wasn’t sure what word to use.
None of them seemed right.
Ellie glanced down at her dress. “It’s all right, isn’t it? You said it was quite posh and it was all I had. I’m afraid it’s jeans otherwise.”
“Beautiful,” I finally settled on, smiling. “You look beautiful, Ellie.”
A blush coloured her cheeks, and she briefly lowered her gaze. “Oh. Thank you.”
“Shall we get going?”
She nodded, and I moved aside so she could step out of the door and lock it behind her.
“Winston is inside, isn’t he?”
“Well, if he’s not, I assume he’s hanging out with the goats again,” she said blithely. “But last I saw he was attempting to corner a fly, so that’ll probably keep him busy for an hour or so.”
I checked my watch. “Check the barn before I lock the goats away for the night. Got it.”
Ellie dipped her head as she tucked her keys into her bag, but I swore she bit back a small laugh. “At least you’re not shouting at me about it anymore,” she said brightly.
“I never shouted at you.” I offered her my hand for the steps.
“Thank you.” She wrapped her small, soft fingers around my larger ones, and I carefully helped her to the bottom of the steps. “You did shout at me.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“How convenient.”
“Just like you happened to have a dress suitable for a nice dinner in your suitcase?” I asked when we reached the car.
She peered up at me, her hand still in mine. “I’m a woman. Why would I pack for a writing retreat when I can bring half my wardrobe?”
“Ah, so you anticipated a fancy dinner or a date, did you?”
“No,” she said slowly. “But I am an optimist, so it’s always worth packing something just in case. Worked out well, don’t you think?”