Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Oh my God. She is delusional.
“Everything all right?” Oliver asks, but my eyes are glued to my phone.
Go get some, girl! Who needs a hot girl summer when you can have a slutty one!
“Yeah, it’s just Yara.” I turn it over. “She just forgot to tell me something.”
Something: go be a big ole ho bag!
“You’re sure that isn’t coconut?” He leans and swipes his hand over my thigh.
I bite my lip as blood rushes to the surface of my skin. “I won’t be able to look at one of those again without laughing.” Or dying of embarrassment.
“Such an unfortunate name,” Oliver ponders.
“What’s unfortunate is where your mind went.”
“It was a natural jump, considering the direction Nora seemed to be taking things. We are talking about the woman who brought up BDSM the first time we met.”
“I only just realized something,” I say, turning to him. “Neither of you have any shame. You just open your mouths and say what you like.”
“And there the resemblance ends.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You’re also both ruthless in your own way. Tyrannical.”
He hitches a brow.
“Despotic, autocratic, know-it-all.” Playfully narrowing my gaze, I ask, “You’re sure you’re not related?”
“That is a horrifying thought.”
I glance out the window as I say, “You can also be nice, when the moment takes you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says stiffly.
“Fine. Lie to me.” My eyes skate over him. “Tell me you didn’t settle Nora’s vet fees.”
“It was merely an accounting decision.”
“Whatever the reason, thank you. It came at a good time.”
“The balance—”
I hold up my hand. “I get it. Nora gets it when you get it. The house, I mean.”
“Precisely.”
I turn back to the window and realize we’re not heading in the direction of the hotel. “Where are we going?”
“Just to Mayfair.”
Mayfair. Another of London’s fancy boroughs. “Want to tell me why?”
“We have an appointment.”
“We do?” I ask, half-amused. “Where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Huh.” I flop back against the buttery leather, suddenly disconcerted. “Just pointing out the obvious here—I’m kind of a mess.” Messy bun, messy black jeans and T-shirt, and a cardigan covered in dog hair.
“Hmm.” Oliver’s eyes run over me critically. “Actually, it might be a problem. You seem to be dressed like a burglar.” He smiles to take the sting out of his word, but I am dressed head to toe in black. Apart from the dog hair. “All that’s missing is a balaclava.” His gaze slides over my hair. “With hair like that, you’d be caught in no time.”
It’s hard to ignore what is clearly a compliment. I try anyway.
“Thief or not, you can’t go wrong with black. Except when you’re dealing with white dogs,” I add, plucking at stubborn, wiry hair.
“I like to see you in green,” he murmurs. “Like the dress you wore to dinner.”
“The one with pockets?”
“Yes, the pockets. Perhaps that’s why I liked it so much.”
Pleasure bursts inside me. His compliments. His words. The little in-jokes we’re having. Until I remind myself I can’t trust any of it.
“It would be very impractical for a day at Nora’s.”
“But perfect for greeting me at the door, a smile on your face and a martini in your hand.”
“How very 1950s of you. Also, dream on,” I add as his lips quirk. I ignore my phone as it buzzes.
“Oh, I do. I dream of all kinds of things.”
My heart skips, then stutters. He doesn’t dream of this being real.
“Nora told me Mitch turned up at the sanctuary this week.” The words tumble in a panic from my mouth.
“Oh?” He reaches for my hand, and I recognize his response as a stalling tactic. “Did she say anything about his visit?”
“Just that she threatened to sic Lamb Chop on him.”
“Lamb Chop?”
“The sheep.”
“The three-legged sheep—not one of the dogs?”
“She wouldn’t risk the local council or police involvement. I’m not sure she’s supposed to have so many animals on the land. Plus, what kind of man would admit to being terrorized by a sheep?”
“How terrifying could that woolly creature be?”
“That depends on whether you enjoy swollen testicles or not,” I offer happily. “Lamb Chop has a habit of headbutting men right where it hurts. She’s also bitten the postman’s ass a couple of times. Maybe Nora should’ve hung on to the llama. That thing would chew off your face just for looking at him the wrong way.”
“A llama?” Oliver’s tone is a touch incredulous.
“Llamas are very territorial creatures. They’ve been known to bite off the testicles of their rivals, ending their bloodline.”
“I wonder if you can send someone a llama,” he muses.
“As a gift?”
“Yes, let’s go with that.”
“Kind of brings a whole new meaning to Dick at Your Door,” I say with a snort.
“A dick where?” He looks at me like I’ve completely lost it.
“Dick at Your Door.” I take back my hand, sliding away a stray lock of hair. “You know, the company that sends your enemies a chocolate dick to choke on?”