Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
That was a rare quality among beautiful women.
When the song stopped, the lead singer announced this would be their last number. After that, no more live music—if you could call it that when half the band looked like they’d been born two centuries ago. But I made the most of it, pushing my hips into Penny’s and guiding her around the dance floor.
She kept up with me just fine. The only time she missed a step was when she pressed herself against me and whispered in my ear that she wanted to head a different way to avoid her parents. She’d introduced them to me before, but I guessed she didn’t want to see them while we were grinding up against each other like this.
That was fine by me.
Then the music stopped, and Penny was instantly accosted by some old friends from high school. Apparently, she and the bride-to-be had gone to the same school, so they knew a lot of the same people. Penny introduced me—using Reid’s name—and I put my arm around her shoulders, listening to her and her friends talk.
I knew my role in all this—to support her and to look hot. The latter one came more naturally to me, but I did okay with both. Whenever I was tempted to say the wrong thing, I’d just imagine what Reid would do. Then I’d add some bland fact to the conversation and go back to listening.
Since I had a woman on my arm who was both sinfully hot and the designated driver, I helped myself to a bottle of beer as we left the ballroom.
Penny’s cheeks were flushed, as was the skin of her chest above the deep vee of her dress. Her dark eyes flashed with excitement, and I could tell she’d liked dancing with me. It was going to be a hell of a letdown for her when it came time for Jackson or Reid to dance with her. Maybe I could make sure I was the one to take her to the reception.
“Do you want to wait here while I go get my things?” she asked when we reached the front lounge.
“I’ll come with you.” Yeah, I had a one-track mind, but I wasn’t about to let a young woman venture out in a dark parking lot by herself. Besides, she probably needed me to help her carry all her dresses and girlie shit.
I was still up when she and Jackson returned from her apartment last night, and it immediately became clear there was no place to hang her clothes. We’d already knocked down the poorly constructed shelves and clothing rods in all the closets because a crew would be coming to install custom shelving tomorrow.
Then Penny remembered that she had a room here for the week, so it would be much easier for her to keep her stuff here. Plus, she could change and do her makeup in a room with an actual mirror. We’d already taken those down in the bathrooms, too.
I had an armload of bags and dressed nearly as high as my head as I followed Penny down the hallway. Now that we were in the part of the resort that held the guest rooms, it had turned into a fucking rabbit warren. I half wished I’d dropped breadcrumbs so we could find our way back.
It took Penny quite a few tries to get the door to her room open, which I attributed more to the crappy keycard system than to what little she’d had to drink. She could take all the time she needed, though, because she was bent forward with her very fine ass pushing out the short skirt of her dress. She looked pretty, but she also looked a tad on the slutty side in that dress. Since that didn’t jibe with what I knew of her, I assumed it was more about making her asshole ex-boyfriend jealous than it was for my benefit, but hey, I’d take it.
We finally made it in the room, and I dropped all her things unceremoniously on the bed. A king-size bed, just like I’d imagined. God, she’d look good stretched out naked on it. Hell, she’d probably look amazing even if she wore Jackson’s oldest, ugliest coveralls that he wore when we painted.
The moral of the story: Penny was hot.
And off-limits. Jackson had made that perfectly clear. When she was out back editing videos with her laptop earlier today, he’d yammered on for what felt like years about how she was recovering from a bad breakup. How her ex had stomped on her heart. How this was a very stressful week for her, blah, blah, blah. I was half surprised he didn’t demand that we switch places, that he be allowed to come tonight and pretend to be me pretending to be Reid.