Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“Yes, okay, sure.”
We both go quiet, but I keep my eyes trained on him as he steps closer. The light from the front porch finally begins to reveal the man from the shadows––his bare feet first, followed by his black track suit pants, the way they hug his thick thighs…
When did I become attracted to thighs? As I take in his torso, I realize he isn’t wearing a shirt. His toned, tanned, hairy––but not overly, more like Henry Cavill––chest is on display. I don’t realize I am ogling him until he stops in front of me, and my eyes find his.
“Lottie,” he says.
Oh shit, I do know him.
“Whiskey,” I say on a shallow breath. He smirks and the corner of his lip pulls up, and I’m reminded of my teenage crush on him. I’m twenty-five now, and it’s been seven years since I last saw him. His presence shouldn’t be affecting me this way—not after all these years.
I thought I got over it, but my hands start to sweat, and my heartbeat picks up at just the sight of him.
“Is this your place?”
I shake my head, and he looks past me to the house. I take the seconds to admire his features. His hair, almost mocha in color, is cut shorter than I remember. His sharp jawline is sculpted to perfection, and a light amount of stubble adorns it. That’s when my eyes find his lips. The lips I’ve dreamed about. Damn, he’s gorgeous.
“No.”
It’s all I manage to breathe out. His close proximity limits my ability to speak coherently.
Whiskey is my father’s friend. I briefly met him when I was maybe fifteen. He had just started working for my father. I only saw him around every now and then.
“How old are you?” I ask him, I never really asked before but had always been curious. But he doesn’t look as old as my father, who is now in his sixties.
His eyes turn to find mine. They remind me of whiskey in a glass, fitting really.
“Thirty-eight,” he answers as his eyes continue to roam over me. “Why aren’t you home? I heard you were engaged.” His eyes flick down to my hand.
“No, not engaged,” I tell him, lifting my empty hand. Before I can lower it, he reaches out, grasping my wrist. His fingers move over the ink on my wrist.
“Last time I saw you, you were a good girl. Now here you stand, dressed in leather, and covered in ink. What happened to you, Lottie? I bet Daddy isn’t pleased.” His words shock me.
I pull my hand free, and when I do, I see a glimpse of something. What it is exactly, I have no idea. But a part of me can’t wait to find out.
“Pleasing my father doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me. Especially when disappointment is a common feeling my father harbors for me. I didn’t play his pawn and go through with the wedding, so he’s not very happy,” I say, and want to take the words back the minute they are out.
“I’m sure you know exactly how to please.” He emphasizes the please in his statement. And his words feel dirty, the best kind of dirty.
“Do you live around here?” I ask, nodding behind him. When I bring my eyes back to him, I can’t help but track them down his abs again. “Where’s your shirt?”
“I was about to work out, but the noise.” He nods back to the house. The party hasn’t calmed at all. “Why are you here?”
“I’m rebelling.” I smile.
“Interesting,” he murmurs.
“If you say so.” I smile. And when I do, I know tonight, something just changed for me.
In more ways than one.
CHAPTER 3
LOTTIE
“You should invite me in for a drink.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. He raises a perfect brow and locks eyes with mine.
“Do you think that’s wise, kid?” He always used to call me kid when he came over. I assumed it was because he didn’t know my name, but now I’m thinking it was something else entirely.
“Do I look like a kid to you?” I ask as I step backward, spinning around in a circle. When I stop moving, my hands fall to my hips, and I look him dead in the eyes.
His eyes slowly trail over my body as I twirl, and something heated passes over his expression. He reaches over and stops me.
“No, you certainly don’t look like a kid.” A smile tugs on my lips as he turns without saying a word and stalks back to his house.
I don’t budge, confused. That is until he stops and yells over his shoulder.
“Come on woman, let’s go!”
I falter at his words but follow him, the leaves crunching under my boots. He stays a few strides ahead of me but stills when he reaches the front door, and holds it open for me. I step in and stop, seeing white marble flooring as I look down at my docs.