Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Our food arrives, and after the server sprinkles pepper over our eggs, she’s quick to walk away again. My stomach growls, but this conversation is too important to put off. “How many times have we started over?”
“More importantly, how many times will you give us another chance?”
I turn her hand over in mine, remembering kissing it this morning. “Well, as far as that goes, you’ve given me a chance or two. So, how about we stop taking chances and start giving each other the benefit of the doubt instead?”
Tapping her glass against mine, she says, “Here’s to friends with benefits.”
With a seriously ridiculous grin on my face, I laugh. “Now that’s something I’m definitely drinking to. Cheers,” I say.
Let the fun begin.
13
Tatum
Harrison is so much of what I remember of him in Catalina.
Sweet.
Interesting.
Attentive.
Thoughtful.
And yes, flirty.
I think that’s ingrained in him.
I’ve heard enough stories to know he’s had his bad boy ways, but I was never treated like a one-night stand despite being exactly that.
He didn’t have to show up today, but he did, and from what Natalie said in the text, that backs what he told me. He wanted to. He wanted to be here for me.
After the fight.
After the mean things I said in anger.
After treating him less than he deserved and kicking him out of my apartment, he showed up in a big way for me. As he said . . . steady, loyal, and reliable.
He showed up when my mom didn’t.
Swinging my purse beside me as we walk down the street, I ask, “Why’d you make me eat so much?” I’m teasing, of course. I tortured myself by stuffing my face full of food and champagne.
“You only have yourself to blame for that.” He bumps into me playfully but keeps his hands tucked in his pockets. I kind of miss the little touches we’ve shared, the accidental and the purposeful ones over the years. “I guess I can take a little responsibility. If I had made pancakes this morning, you would have just drunk mimosas instead.”
Keeping my eyes forward, I don’t let the moment pass without saying what I need to get off my chest. “I would have done the same for you.”
“What is that?”
“You think I’m stubborn to a fault, but I would have come to you if you were in my shoes.”
He stops in the middle of the sidewalk like a tourist. “Is that what we’re calling it? Stubborn?”
Shrugging, I reply, “Bitchy works too.”
“Too far. I’ve never once thought about you that way.”
When grumbling New Yorkers gripe when they have to move around us, I take him by the arm and pull him off to the side. “Did you think about me often?”
“More than I should for a woman who hated my existence.” Dare I tell him that I never hated him? That I’d simply hated that we never had a chance?
Wrong place?
Wrong time?
If I’d only met him in the city . . . Well, I wouldn’t have walked away so quickly.
His attention is stolen by the candy store window display. A proposal scene with a giant Ring Pop sitting in a swirl of cotton candy with the words “I Do” in colorful edible dots. He says, “It’s June. Fitting display for a wedding month, but it’s making me hungry.”
“Hungry? We just stuffed ourselves.”
“No, you stuffed yourself.” As he rubs his stomach, the hem of his untucked shirt rides up. Not as much as I’d like but enough to have me wanting more. I know what’s under it, and his body never disappoints. “It takes a lot of food to keep this body going.”
“Only food as fuel?” Fine, I do my share of flirting with him too.
He grins, turning back to me. It’s not surprise that lies in that wry grin, but I think satisfaction. Yep, he’s winning. If making me happy is a victory for him, I’ll let him take the lead.
But then he tugs his lower lip under his teeth, a lip bite that has my mouth hanging open. Who knew that would be the thing to drive my mind wild with fantasies?
Apparently, he did because he lifts my chin until my mouth closes again, and whispers, “Be careful, Devreux. You’re drooling.”
Tugging the door open, he enters the shop. And I’m still standing here like a damn fool in front of a giant Ring Pop proposal. Self-consciously, I wipe the sides of my mouth, just in case. Oh, thank God. All good. I open the door and join him inside the store.
With a handful of candy bags already in hand, he eyes the sea salt caramels when I walk up. “I didn’t know you were such a . . .” I hold up the candy in front of my face.
“Sugar Daddy?” He snatches the lollipop from me. “Very funny.” He’s laughing and drops the candy in one of his many bags.