Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
The screen door slammed behind them, leaving Ryleigh and me alone in the kitchen.
Color bloomed in her cheeks, and my mind immediately skipped to wondering if she flushed like that all over when she came.
I shook my head to clear it. This was Ryleigh Dunham. Girl next door.
“So, I’m guessing your mom begged you to take me the same way my mom begged me to take you?” she asked, folding her arms under her breasts as the keys dangled from her fingers.
“Looks like—” Gravity shifted in my entire world. “Wait, she had to beg you to take me?” What the actual fuck? I was a star in the NHL. I made millions a year, and if the rotation of girls through my bed was any indication, I wasn’t exactly hard to look at. I wasn’t cocky, just confident, and yes, there was a difference.
“This is so embarrassing.” Ryleigh stared at the kitchen floor for a second before shaking her head. “Look, just because Chuck Stewardson dumped me in front of Swirls a couple of months ago doesn’t mean I can’t have a date if I want one.”
“Okay, there’s a lot to unpack in that statement,” I said slowly, throwing the used dish towel in the hamper mom kept under the sink. “I’m not sure if I should start with how big a douchebag Chuck Stewardson is—and believe me, I may have been gone for the last ten years, but I still know that—or if I should be surprised that the ice cream shop is still the gossip center of Cherry Creek.”
When her eyes met mine, they were little green pools of fire. “I didn’t know Chuck was that big of a douchebag, and yes, people still eat ice cream here. And you’re not taking me to London’s wedding.”
My spine stiffened. “Yeah, I am.”
“No, you’re not,” she fired back, glaring over her shoulder when one of our moms honked the horn. “I have the keys!” she shouted through the screen door. “I can’t believe they did this.”
“I’m taking you,” I said with the kind of definitive tone that even my teammates knew better than to question.
“No. You’re. Not.” She shook her head and stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “I’m not some all-star’s pity date. You can fuck right off with that nonsense.”
“Well, I see your mouth hasn’t changed,” I muttered.
“Does the word fuck offend you?” she challenged.
“Hardly,” I scoffed. “I just prefer it as a verb.” A grin stole across my face.
She visibly flustered, blinking quickly before swallowing. “Well, not with me, you’re not.”
“I wasn’t offering.” I shrugged. “But I did promise my mom I’d take you, so yeah, I’m taking you. I don’t break promises to my mother. And if what I remember is correct, you don’t break them to yours, either.”
She glared at me, and it somehow only made her even sexier. Those lips would look fantastic wrapped around my—
“Things have changed around here, Caspian. That happens when you’re gone for a decade. We’re not going.” She turned on her heel and stalked through the door onto the porch.
I followed.
“I told you, my friends call me Caz!” I called out after her from the doorframe.
“We’re not friends!” she reminded me, skipping down my steps like she’d done it a thousand times, which she had.
“Well, we’re going to be.” I leaned on the doorframe and waited until she turned my way to give her my best, most charming smile. The one that universally dropped panties.
She tripped slightly, but caught herself on the hood of my dad’s truck, muttering a swear word under her breath. “We’ll see about that!” She climbed into the driver’s seat and the car backed out of the driveway.
“Yeah,” I said as the corners of my mouth curved into a grin. “We sure will.”
2
Ryleigh
“Will that be all for you today, Jess?” I asked, sliding the brown paper sack filled with two-inch paint brushes toward her.
“Yes, Ryleigh,” she answered, taking the bag and her change. “I hope this is the last batch I have to buy, too.” She shook her head, her gray hair falling past her ears. “Painting a bathroom shouldn’t be this hard.”
“I’m glad you got the mineral spirits this time,” I said, nodding to her. “If you would’ve bought them the last time I recommended it, you wouldn’t be back for new brushes.”
The woman waved me off as she headed toward the door. “Then I wouldn’t have an excuse to leave the house. Thanks again, Ryleigh. Wish me luck!”
“Luck!” I called as she headed out the door—the same door that Caspian freaking Foster was now holding open for her.
He gave her a polite smile and a dip of his head before heading inside.
Toward me.
I resisted the urge to let out a groan, my muscles already tensing from our little disagreement yesterday. I loved my mama more than anything on this earth, but goddamn, she could be nosy sometimes. The fact that her and Caspian’s mother had tried to trap us into being each other’s dates for London’s wedding week wasn’t all that surprising, but his instant dedication to the idea was. I mean, the NHL star hadn’t been home for more than a week in over a decade, so why was he so keen to please his mother now?