Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 111775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“Good to see you, too, Eugene,” she said. “Thank you for having me again.” Her attention went to Rhys and Stephanie. “Hello.”
“Maggie,” Rhys replied, his arm going around Stephanie’s shoulders as he introduced her. “This is my fiancée, Stephanie.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Stephanie said, smiling as she reached out to shake Maggie’s hand.
“You, too,” Maggie replied, and I motioned for her to take a seat at the table. She sat, but I noticed she was distracted by the art that hung on the wall. My art. I didn’t like to hang my work, but it was Dad’s favourite, and he insisted on putting it up. It depicted a small sparrow I’d seen on a bush in our front garden. I’d always been fascinated by birds. They were the most common subject in my drawings.
“What a lovely picture,” Maggie said, her eyes still tracing the lines of the small creature. It was drawn in pencil and filled in with irregular splotches of watercolour. An odd emotion hit me. It had been a long time since I’d felt that way, the pleasure in having someone take in what I’d created and admire it.
“And the style is so unusual,” she went on. “Who’s the artist?” I noticed her searching for a signature.
“You’re sitting right next to him,” Dad replied with a proud grin.
“Oh,” she breathed, turning to look at me in surprise. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting that answer. “You drew this?” My expression was soft as I nodded.
“Shay’s always been an amazing artist,” Dad went on. “It came naturally to him. Shay, why don’t you show Maggie the rest of your work? The food won’t be ready for another while.”
Her eyes flickered nervously to mine. “That’s okay. You don’t have to—”
Before she could finish, I motioned her from her seat and led her from the kitchen. I didn’t mind showing her my portfolio, especially if it meant avoiding Stephanie until the food was ready. I heard Maggie following me up to my room, her shoes clipping softly on the wooden stairs.
I opened the door and turned back. She lingered in the hallway, hesitant. “Is that your bedroom?”
I nodded, hoping my expression told her I didn’t mind her coming in. She stepped inside and something hummed in my chest as I watched her look around. It was a large bedroom, with a king-sized bed, a desk where I drew and painted, a TV, as well as a double wardrobe, chest of drawers and bookshelves.
“I like it. It’s very tidy.” She walked across the rug, her eyes scanning the space. “Rhys’ fiancée seems nice, and my goodness, she’s so pretty,” she went on as she lowered to sit on my bed. I was a little overwhelmed by her being there, but it wasn’t a bad kind of overwhelmed. My mind flashed with an image of me kneeling in front of her, running my hands up her thighs and pressing my face to the soft pad of her stomach. Maggie’s eyes flicked to mine to see if I agreed with her assessment of Stephanie. I merely shrugged, and she tilted her head.
“You don’t think so?”
I blew out a breath and sat down beside her, our knees touching, then pulled out my phone.
I don’t think she’s my biggest fan.
I handed her the phone, and she took her time reading, allowing me the chance to look at her freely. Stephanie might’ve been pretty, but Maggie was beautiful. The delicate slope of her nose, the dip and rise of her lips, her soft, auburn hair. To me, she was unique. I didn’t think I’d ever met someone who made me feel like Maggie did. There was an energy about her that drew me in, but it couldn’t be described in words. I was just comfortable in her presence. There was also something vulnerable about her, a delicateness that called to me and awoke a protective streak.
“She doesn’t like you? Why?” she asked, disbelief in her voice, almost like she couldn’t possibly imagine anyone not liking me, which only heightened my affection for her. I was little bit addicted to the way she saw me.
Handing me back the phone, her small fingers were cool when they touched mine.
I don’t know, I typed and handed it back to her.
When she finished reading, she said, “Why don’t you ask Rhys? Maybe she’s just shy. Sometimes shyness can come across as dislike.”
I shook my head. Stephanie wasn’t shy. I’d seen enough of her interacting with other members of staff at the hotel to know that. And I wasn’t going to mention her weirdness around me to Rhys because he loved the woman, and I didn’t want to cause trouble in their relationship. Honestly, I just needed to get over the whole thing. Not everyone got along with their family members’ partners. It wasn’t the end of the world, and I was tough enough to be able to handle being around someone who wasn’t overly enthused about me.