Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Jax has a Rolex, just tossed in casually with his underwear. Does he really make that much money as a lawyer?”
I looked up as Colton shrugged, his back to me as he kept a lookout—his bare, muscular, slightly damp back. Lines slithered and curved up and around his shoulder blades, trailing down his spine, highlighting a column of pure muscle.
Nothing else caught my attention in the suitcase. I stood up, about to move on to the next room, when Colton made a sound.
“What? Someone coming?”
He shook his head, eyes locked on something in Jax’s suitcase. “No, I’m just wondering why Jax has that necklace. It’s one of the necklaces our mom gave us. Just the kids. It has her initials with ours intertwined at the front… see? It’s Kendall’s.”
“Really? Maybe they just packed together?”
Colton’s eyes narrowed. I could always tell when Colton clicked into his overthinking mode. Wrinkles would appear in his forehead, and his eyebrows inched together, his tongue peeking out the side of his mouth.
“Come, let’s check out the next room,” I said, grabbing his hand and quickly releasing it. Fake. We were supposed to be fake. Holding hands in private wasn’t something fake boyfriends did.
“Wait,” Colton said, grabbing my hand and spinning me around to face him, fingers slipping through mine. He didn’t let go, and I didn’t pull away from him.
He licked his lips, his blue eyes locking me in place. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad, too,” I said, my heart starting to pick up its pace. I could smell some of the salt water from the pool still on him, mixing with the coconut-scented sunblock he used.
Fake. We were supposed to be fake.
But… well, fuck it.
I went in for a kiss at the same time he did, our lips locking in a much more passionate kiss than the one I had gotten when I’d first arrived. His tongue slipped past my lips and swirled around mine, giving me a taste of him. I moaned. Couldn’t help it. Holding him against me, feeling him getting hard with only a couple threads of fabric separating us, it burned away any idea of this being a fake relationship.
A sound made us freeze. Voices. They were growing louder, coming from down the hall.
“Shit,” I said, frustrated that not only did I get distracted but also that this fiery kiss was now being interrupted. “Let’s get out of here.”
I walked with Colton out of the bedroom, holding his hand, just as three people turned the corner, their suitcases rolling loudly behind them as if announcing the new arrivals.
“Pop, Grams,” Colton said, waving as we headed toward the smiling trio.
Well, looked like I was meeting his dad and grandmother with the taste of Colton still on my lips.
18
COLTON COOPER
Grandma Macy came over and wrapped me up in one of her famous bear hugs. For an eighty-year-old woman, she had a surprising amount of upper-body strength. I sucked in a breath as I felt a couple of pops in my back and shoulders. She smelled like lavender, her favorite scent, as she planted a kiss on each of my cheeks.
“I have to do it the French way,” she said with a wink, stepping aside and being replaced by my dad.
His hugs were a little less enthusiastic but still welcome all the same. “Hey, Dad.” I bounced from him to Luna, who also gave me two kisses and a warm shoulder squeeze.
“And who’s this handsome gentleman?” Macy asked, lowering the designer sunglasses that were likely prescription and made specifically for her.
She was likely the reason why my mom had been such a successful and powerful businesswoman. My grandmother, Macy, had her own thriving business long before my mother hired her first employee. She’d moved here from Greece when she was only fourteen years old and was a well-known name in the fashion world by the time she was twenty-seven. She had her own line of high-end clothes that made it into all the exclusive storefront windows and runways, designing for red carpets and movie premieres, often getting us a couple of free tickets.
She was an inspiration, and we all looked up to her.
“This is Eric,” I said, introducing my “boyfriend” with a hand on his lower back.
“Nice to meet you, Eric.” Macy came in for a hug while my dad offered a handshake instead.
I noticed he was looking much better than the last time I’d seen him. Granted, it was at mom’s funeral, so he had plenty of reason to look shaken and disheveled, but it was good to see him smiling and freshly shaved again, with a sharp haircut and clothes that weren’t wrinkled and smelling like wet laundry.
“Well, we’re going to get ready for dinner. We’ll see you guys later.”
“Great meeting you,” Eric offered to the group, his dimples on full display. It was the kind of smile that—if properly harnessed—could solve world hunger and climate change all in one go. It was that powerful, that pure, that damn handsome. I lov—nope. Not going down that road. I had already broken our rules once today. I couldn’t feel this warm and this excited and this damn giddy every time I looked at him.