Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
She got comfortable in her chair and pulled her knees to her chest. “How do I seduce a man?”
Nope. Not that question. Anything but that. Those words did not just leave her mouth. I fucking refused.
“I’m gonna need my beer for this.” I sucked in a breath and bolted up. Unfortunately, my beer was only about six feet away on the side shelf attached to the grill. There was no escape. “How can—I mean… What makes you think you—fuck.” Frustration built up and spilled over in a second, and I stopped to drain half my beer.
How did I respond to that? Fucking seriously.
This little chick turned eighteen in less than two months. Was she running around thinking about seduction?
It would’ve been easy to make an excuse and hide out with Darius upstairs. He had the privilege of doing that; I didn’t. She wasn’t my sister. I’d earned her trust and made her feel welcome in my home, and in return, she’d opened up to me. She confided in me. She spoke without filters.
It mattered more to me than she’d ever realize.
But I did wish she’d take the sex- and seduction-related shit to her mother and sister.
Pipsqueak waited patiently, her expression open and curious, and that kind of gave me the answer I needed. She was the most genuine, amazing young woman I knew. She didn’t need to know seduction. She didn’t need to go to any lengths to catch the eye of…well, too many guys. Because she was consistently herself. If she didn’t find you funny, she didn’t laugh. If she didn’t agree with you, she said so. And she was generous with honest compliments, because she felt that if she liked what someone did or something someone wore—whatever it could be—she wanted to tell them.
“You don’t have to seduce anyone, Pipsqueak.” I set down my bottle on the floorboards, then rested my elbows on my knees. “Any guy worth his salt will appreciate your honesty and loyalty more than a handful of cheap tricks. If you’re interested in someone, tell him. That’s what you do.”
“True,” she said, nodding pensively. “Thank you for your input, but I reject it. Tell me about these cheap tricks, please? I think I need to bring out the heavy artillery with this man. And it’s a man. Not some random guy in school.”
I chuckled and creased my forehead, both puzzled and amused. “Is he blind?” Then I replayed her words and furrowed my brow. “How old is this—”
“You know what,” she interrupted abruptly. “I went about this the wrong way. Let me rephrase. What are some regular, normal methods women might use to seduce a man? Are the magazines correct? Do I just show some extra skin and—”
“Oh Christ.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. Those words—those exact words—coming out of her mouth… No. No. I didn’t need to think about Pipsqueak showing extra skin. Which wasn’t something she did anyway. Back when she was on the swim team, she’d squeeze into some bathing suit that seemingly compressed her entire body, and I was fine with that. It was appropriate. As far as I knew, she still wore her pink bathing suit with purple ruffle and a unicorn print when she went to the beach with her friends. I wouldn’t know. It’d been a few years since we’d all gone together.
At home, on an everyday basis, regardless of the weather, she dressed in leggings or shorts, often accompanied by a T-shirt she’d stolen from one of her brothers. Meaning they were close to three or four sizes too large. She’d even borrowed tees from me. I encouraged it. She looked so comfortable in them. And it provided a stupid security blanket for this grown-ass man who preferred to think of her as an inquisitive little girl who came over at four in the morning with lemonade and questions about life.
So much for coming to terms with her growing up…
“Maybe I should ask Angel instead,” she said.
My head shot up, and the protest was right there on the tip of my tongue. You’ll do no such thing, young lady! But I had no right. I hadn’t met Ryan’s girlfriend yet, but I’d heard enough from Darius. And Mary, James, and Pipsqueak had gone down to visit over Easter. When they came back, Pipsqueak had been gushing about Angel.
“Why, uh, why would you talk to her?” I asked.
Pipsqueak grinned. “Because she’s wicked.”
I shouldn’t have asked.
For Fourth of July this year, we left the country and headed up to the Quinns’ hunting cabin outside Whistler.
The family went a couple weeks every year, but that was a bit over my limit. A three-day weekend was enough of roughing it for me. Our cars were packed with food, tents, sleeping bags, and whatever supplies we needed, because the cabin itself only had room for four people.