Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“I took her to Greece last summer and she just wanted to be in the pool the entire time.”
“Greece?” I asked, imagining whitewashed villas and bright pink flowers contrasting perfectly with the blue of the sea. “I’ve always wanted to go. Is it wonderful?”
“We didn’t see much of it outside the pool. I thought you said you wanted to go to Paris and Rome.”
“I do,” I said. “Greece too. I want to feel the Mediterranean breeze through my hair and white sand between my toes, not just have Mamma Mia as my point of reference. Same goes for Paris.”
“Let me guess . . . An American Werewolf in Paris is your current point of reference?”
Had Gabriel Chase just made a joke? I felt honored.
I grinned in silent victory. “I was thinking more Moulin Rouge.”
“Never seen it.”
“Stop. You’ve never seen Moulin Rouge? It’s non-stop Baz Luhrmann genius. Like, it could be my favorite of all time. And Mamma Mia is a musical as well, if you didn’t know.”
“Yeah, never seen that either.”
I wanted to reach for him, turn his face in my direction so I could see his expression and know he wasn’t joking. Surely he was teasing me. The entire world had seen Mamma Mia. I shuffled forward in my seat to see as much of his face as I could. “Holy shit, Gabriel.”
He turned to me, his broad shoulders taking up half the width of the seat. “Is it a federal offense in America not to like musicals?”
“Absolutely,” I said, incredulous. “I see I’m going to have to broaden your horizons. One night when you’re not back too late, I’ll begin your musicals education. Oh God—”
“What?” he said, glancing ahead of us as if I’d spotted something.
“Are you telling me you’ve deprived Bethany too?”
He rolled his eyes. “I think she watched Mary Poppins with her last nanny. Or it could have been The Wizard of Oz.”
I snorted. “Amateur stuff. She’s four, Gabriel. Four. She should have seen Singin’ in the Rain by now. And An American in Paris and—”
Gabriel’s frown softened, his shoulders seemed to lower, and he looked at me. Really looked at me, as if he were trying to read my instructions or something. Was I so odd to him?
“I have work to do,” I continued, grinning to myself. “Leave it to me and I’ll make sure Bethany isn’t forever deprived.”
“If you say so,” Gabriel said, back to his crotchety self.
I tapped the side of my nose just as the cab pulled up in front of Hollie and Dexter’s house. Before we were out of the cab, Hollie had opened the door, a grinning Dexter behind her.
“It’s so nice to have you here.” She pulled me in for a hug and squeezed so tight I was concerned she cracked a rib. “Hey,” she said, releasing me and looking me up and down. “I like your dress.” She paused while Gabriel kissed her on the cheek and followed Dexter inside. “Are you trying to impress someone?” She had moved on from Sensible Sister voice and was now firmly in Concerned Older Sibling mode. Previously, I’d confidently been able to tell her that despite my crush on Gabriel, nothing would ever happen. I wasn’t in his league, and he didn’t seem like the type to tumble the hired help. Given his demeanor whenever I was around, I was sure he barely noticed me. Until tonight.
Tonight? He’d definitely noticed my dress. And he definitely told me I looked beautiful. But he also looked like it had been painful to admit. What was going on in that big brain of his?
“It was on sale at Uniqlo, Hollie.” I sighed.
“Sorry. You look beautiful. You’ve always been able to make anything look like it cost a hundred times what it did. I just expected you in jeans. That’s all.”
“Maybe I’m reinventing myself,” I replied. “Can I come in now? I’m cold.”
“Yes. Come and help me get drinks. All the boys are here and they’re on whiskey—well, apart from Beck. What can I get you?”
“What’ve you got?”
She shrugged. “Dexter brought up some champagne,” she said, her eyes twinkling conspiratorially.
“Who from the Sunshine Trailer Park would believe this is our life?” I linked my arm through hers as we headed to the kitchen.
“I know. It’s like I’m engaged to royalty or something.”
“Dexter doesn’t have a stick up his ass like most of the royals do.” I glanced to where Dexter and Gabriel and their friends sat by the fire. Gabriel sat back, his arm resting on the back of the couch as Tristan, the most gregarious of the bunch, made hand gestures that looked like he was describing a bomb going off. Gabriel looked so calm. So in control. As if he was taking everything in and not letting anything of himself out.
“How’s it going?” Hollie asked as she pulled out a bottle of champagne from the ice bucket on the linen-clothed table set up with drinks. “With Bethany.”