Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
He needed to talk to someone. Jake?
No, nope. He did not want anyone in the family getting wind of his sudden obsession with Catie. Or his friends. In fact, he didn’t want to talk to anyone. He’d sleep on it and he’d wake up cured. The end.
“Chicken’s done,” he said, the words coming out a touch too fast. “We then put it aside while we stir-fry the veggies in the sauce. I like to drizzle a little of the sauce over the chicken while it sits. Helps it soak in a bit more.”
Stop babbling, Danny!
Clenching his jaw tight, he kept his eyes on the food. It took a few short minutes to get the vegetables to the right level between raw and still crispy but seared. He then added the chicken back in, mixed, and they were done.
“Damn.” He scowled. “We forgot to make rice or noodles.”
“There are emergency microwavable packets in the pantry.”
“Only because I’m starving. Next time we make it fresh.” He didn’t even realize what he’d said until the words were out.
Next time.
As if they’d be cooking together again soon.
Just as well Catie was busy getting the packaged rice and didn’t seem to notice.
Releasing a tight breath, he set the table while she sorted the rice, then he carried the wok over to place it between them on the table.
Two minutes later, they both dug in.
“Yum.” Catie finally spoke after eating half her meal. “I give you permission to say ‘I told you so,’ but the timer is on.” She tapped at her wrist and her nonexistent watch. “Permission expires after thirty seconds.”
He laughed, delighted and happy—and not about to miss this opportunity. Whipping out his phone, he recorded her as he said, “I told you so.”
Catie made a face at the camera, but it was a cute face. Her entire face was just cute.
Maybe he’d taken a knock to the head while drugged. That had to be it. Or it was this whole situation where she’d basically rescued him. Didn’t people imprint on their rescuers? He’d snap out of it.
“So,” she said after swallowing another bite, “what’s the dress code at this premiere? Is it super fancy or just nice?”
“Fancy,” Danny said, glad to have a non-emotive topic on which to focus. “Leon figures a flash premiere might lead to more eyeballs on his work. He put together the play on a shoestring budget, but his dream is to stage a full-fledged historical. Costumes, huge sets, the whole shebang, and for that, he needs to make a splash, get the attention of the right people.”
“He’ll definitely get eyeballs on it if you’re going,” Catie said, but she didn’t ask what many people would have—what he’d charged to attend. Because Catie knew that Danny valued his friends. If he could give them a leg up just by showing up, why the hell not?
Especially when it was the only help Leon would accept. Danny had offered to help finance the play, but Leon had turned him down flat. “You can come onboard when I’m sure I’m going to make a profit,” he’d said. “Until then, it’s a terrible investment risk for you—and I won’t take from my friends to chase my dreams. I need to make it on my own first, need to own any future success.”
Danny understood that need far better than Leon could ever comprehend. He knew his sporting prowess was due to his training and discipline—because even the most naturally talented player wouldn’t make it if he sat around on his ass. But Danny also knew he’d been born into a place of privilege in terms of rugby.
Only this rugby prince’s halo was starting to develop rust.
“With the two of us,” he said, shoving aside the cold truth breathing down the back of his neck, “it might end up a circus.”
Catie speared a snow pea pod. “You sure he wants that attention?”
“Oh yeah. Any mention of us will also mean a mention of his play.” He suddenly thought of something. “I brought my tux down from Auckland. Left it with the hotel laundry to get pressed—it’ll still be there.”
He made a mental note to pick it up when the snow stopped. “Will you have to buy a fancy outfit?” She’d only come down for a short break with her girlfriends—one of whom happened to be dating a member of the Southern Blizzard. That was how they’d ended up at the same club.
Catie frowned. “These days I’m usually sponsored by a label, but when I’m not, I try to give local designers the spotlight.” She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “It’s last minute, but let me ring around and see if anyone can fit me into one of their samples. They usually have to do alterations—I’ve got too much muscle for most samples.”
What she also had were very sexy curves. As a sprinter, her body was built differently to the ethereal slenderness of a long-distance runner’s; she packed a ton of power into a taut, tight frame. And for all that was holy, Danny’s brain needed to shut the fuck up!