Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
I’m looking for something more grown-up this time around…like a man with clever eyes that twinkle as he says, “Sounds like you have experience with small towns.”
“Grew up in one,” I say. “Have the invisible scars to prove it.”
He winces. “Hope they’re not too deep.”
“Nah,” I say with a smile, “but deep enough to be excited about a fresh start. So, who’s the town gossip? She’s the one I’ll really want to steer clear of. What she doesn’t know, she can’t spread around the Shop ‘n Save.”
“Too late.” The bartender with the full, handlebar moustache sets a fresh bowl of peanuts in front of us. “You sat down by the son of the biggest gossip around these parts.”
“That’s not true,” Drew says with a charming roll of those warm brown eyes. “My mom isn’t a gossip. She just likes to talk. A lot. About everything.”
“Uh-huh,” the bartender says, sounding unconvinced. He shoots me a wink as he adds, “Be careful with this one. Drew’s one of our most eligible bachelors and related to half the town. Do him wrong and you’ll have your share of enemies. Do him right and you’re also in trouble. But if I were you, I’d rather fight a flock of pissed-off single ladies than this guy’s entire clan.”
“Clan,” I repeat, glancing warily Drew’s way. “You come from a big family, too? I’m the oldest of seven.”
“Second oldest of eight with triple the number of cousins.” He laughs again and it’s instantly one of my favorite sounds ever. It’s just so cozy and rumbly, like an oversized cat purring just for me. “But my clan is harmless, I promise. As long as you’re not afraid of big Irish families who think ghosts are real and never met a holiday they couldn’t drink under the table.”
I beam at him. “That sounds familiar. And lovely, actually. Like the good parts of home.”
His gaze warms, and I find myself falling even further under his spell. “Then you’ll do just fine around here, Miss Tatum. And if you’re as good at playing cards as you are at shuffling them, I might have a poker game for you. My little sister, Binx, has a running game on Sunday nights.”
“Binx?” I grin as I deal the cards for Go Fish. “That’s a fun name.”
“Her given name is Beatrice, but she renamed herself when she was four or five. She refused to put on pants until everyone in the family started calling her Binx. The protest lasted about two hours before Mom gave in to keep her from running outside to play in the yard half naked.”
I laugh. “She sounds like my kind of people.”
“Oh yeah?” He leans closer, dropping his voice as he asks, “You have a wild side?”
“Maybe,” I say, fanning out the cards in my hand. “And maybe if you stick around long enough to let me trounce you at Go Fish and Trout pinball, you’ll get to see it.”
He bites his bottom lip, and my panties melt clean off. They’re already sliding down the inside of my black jeans to pool in a puddle on the floor when he says, “I’ll stick around as long as you’ll put up with me.”
Stifling the insane urge to tell him that I’ll take Forever, please, and thank you, I drop my voice to a husky whisper and say, “Sounds good. Sounds even better if you have any threes.”
“Go fish,” he whispers back, somehow managing to make those two, kid-friendly words sound completely filthy.
By the time I trounce him three times at Go Fish, and we take our fresh drinks back to the pinball machine, I’m buzzing all over. I haven’t been this attracted to a man in years.
Unfortunately, I also haven’t asked a man back to my place in…ever.
I have no clue how to close a seduction deal, but before I can stress too much about it, Drew’s hands are on my hips, positioning me at the optimal angle to master the game. He then proceeds to lean around me, practically cradling me against him as his hands cover mine on the buttons.
We battle the whirlpools and evil octopuses trying to thwart our ball’s progress for nearly half an hour. As we play as a team, my bottom keeps brushing against the front of his jeans, his hands flit from my waist to my fingers and back again, and his breath is warm on my neck as he murmurs tips and encouragement.
By the time we’re down to our last quarter, I’m ready to beg him to bend me over the pinball machine and take me from behind like the horny little Trout pinball player I am.
I’ve never said anything that crass, but I’m not in my right mind. I’m drunk on hormones and buzzed on martinis and determined not to go home alone tonight.