Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Heddy, a longtime friend of Mom’s who serendipitously lived in Prescott, had sidled up beside me.
She used to be in the acting biz.
Now, she worked in a title office, had two boyfriends she refused to commit to (and they were all down with that, having their freedom but also having company when they felt like it), and three dogs.
She had a smart mouth and the ability to tease relentlessly.
So obviously, I adored her.
“If I hear you call your ass fat again, I’ll stop speaking to you for a year,” I sniffed.
“Couldn’t have that,” she replied, grinning up at me.
“And it’s not fat, it’s curvaceous,” I noted.
“I stand corrected,” she said.
“You certainly do,” I retorted, lifting my glass to take a sip, intending to restart our conversation by saying hello and telling her she looked cute when I felt something tickle along the side of my neck, a sensation that made my gaze wander the room.
When it did, I saw Judge was there, across the space, standing next to the other bar set up in the corner by the fireplace (which was now burning merrily away).
He had a sturdy glass filled with beer in his hand and a smile on his face as he listened to an extortionately handsome, built man who was standing with him.
As if it had a physical touch, the minute my gaze hit him, Judge Oakley’s eyes swung to me.
And fixed on me.
And he stared.
And stared.
And drat it all, I felt my skin heat, because the look on his face said he saw white satin for about five seconds before his imagination chucked my outfit, and now he saw something entirely different.
Thank God my strapless bra was padded.
“It’s my understanding this party is PG rated. Some drinking. The likelihood of a buffoon or two over-imbibing, because there’s always the likelihood of a buffoon over-imbibing. If we’re lucky, perhaps they’ll make a lowkey scene that we can enjoy, but they’ll regret in the office in a couple of days. However, you two keep staring at each other like that…” Heddy began. “We’ll just say we’ve already hit NC-17.”
I tore my gaze from Judge, pulled myself together and turned to Heddy so he had a side view and hopefully the sense that I’d dismissed him.
“Let me guess, that’s Judge,” she deduced.
The instant she said his name, my mind conjured the image I’d recently relished of him in deep indigo jeans and a black crewneck, a pair of cognac oxfords on his feet. His longish-on-the-top, light brown hair was swept back, but the fact it had a tendency to curl in big waves was not controlled.
And his stubble that was just perhaps a week or two from being defined as a beard was sublime.
I’d forgotten (purposefully, and with no small amount of effort) how attractive he was.
I now very much remembered.
God.
I took a sip of my champagne to cool the burn.
Heddy cut into my (I had to admit) fevered reverie.
“Remind me again what’s wrong with him?” she asked, but she didn’t wait for me to answer. “Because, not to be surface-oriented, but he looks close to pretty damned perfect from here.”
“He’s a rake,” I stated.
Her brows rose even as her eyes twinkled. “That bad? A rake?”
“Well,” I mumbled, “I don’t know if he’s a rake. I’m just using my rather substantial understanding of the opposite sex to make that determination.”
“Do tell, my lovely,” Heddy encouraged. “What makes a rake?”
“He’s an audacious flirt,” I supplied.
Although she was still very amused (very), she also now looked confused.
“Flirt?” she asked. “I thought you two got in a huge fight.”
Damn it.
He hadn’t flirted our first meeting, exactly.
He had flirted our second meeting, definitely.
The one no one knew about.
“You can flirt and fight at the same time,” I decreed, then started making things up. “It’s part of what makes a rake.”
“I see,” she muttered, visibly fighting a smile.
“Whatever, is he coming over here?” I asked.
She glanced to the side, then she said, “No.”
No?
“Well then…” Hmm. “Good,” I stated.
“Mm-hmm, good. As women have known for nigh on a couple of centuries, they gotta steer clear of those rakes,” she declared. “Then again, for nigh on eternity, they’ve been running to those rakes in droves. Which, I don’t know, I’m not up on the fine points of rakishness, but I think that’s how they become rakes.”
Due to the fact I found anyone who was cleverer than me to be maddening, I glared at her.
She just grinned at me.
“Oh…my…God,” Sasha whispered, coming up to us and crowding in. “The guys told me Judge is here. They pointed him out. And…wow.”
I do not care my sister finds him attractive, I told myself. I do not care that she’s stunningly beautiful, lively, and sweet, and that he will not miss any of that. I do not care that I made myself clear the last time I saw him, and he obviously absorbed what I said so he will keep to himself and allow me to do the same. I do not care that this opens things up to him possibly flirting with Sasha. I do not care that he was standing alone with his friend, without a woman near him. I do not care about any of this.