Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Hey, Hank.” She smiles warmly, leaning up to give him a one-armed hug, since there is no fucking way I’m letting go of her hand. “How have you been?”
“Good, and you?” he asks, dropping his eyes to her hand in mine before he lifts his gaze my way.
“Hank, this is my . . .”
“Her man.” I stick out my free hand in his direction, and he takes it, squeezing a little too tight for someone who’s just a friend. “Levi,” I mutter, letting him go.
“I didn’t know you were dating someone. I thought you said you were taking a break from dating?” Hank says, studying Fawn in a way that says she obviously told him that and he was disappointed by the news.
“Oh.” She laughs, shaking her head. “I was . . . I mean, Levi and I, we live next door to each other, and this just kind of happened.” She raises our hands, laughing.
“Hmm.” His eyes slide to me briefly. “Did you get the invitation I e-mailed you last week?” She nods.
“Yeah, I’m going to see if Mac and Libby want to come to your showing with me.”
“Good.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, then runs his hand through his shaggy hair. “I’d love to see you there.”
“Hank is an artist, and he has a showcase in SoHo after Thanksgiving,” she explains, tilting her head back to look at me. “He’s really very talented.”
“Really. Maybe I’ll go with you to check it out,” I say, wondering where the fuck that statement came from. I’d rather pull my teeth out one by one than go to an art show.
“It’s invite only,” Hank huffs, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.
Fawn frowns, then mutters, “Oh.” Smiling at that, I drop her hand and tuck her under my arm. My woman seriously has no fucking idea when a man is interested. “Well, we were just getting ready to leave. It was nice to see you, Hank.”
“You, too.” He steps forward like he’s going to give her a hug, but Muffin steps in front of her to block the move. Hank’s eyes drop to the big wolfhound, and he visibly swallows. “I’ll see you at the showing.”
“Yeah, see you then,” she agrees, as I give Muffin a scratch for being so good.
“Nice meeting you, Hank. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” I lift my chin to him, and his eyes narrow.
“Yeah, see ya,” he mutters, walking to the gate and opening it, then bending down to pick up the Yorkie Muffin was playing with.
“So you and Hank?” I ask as we head toward the park exit with Muffin walking in front of us.
“Me and Hank?” she asks, and I drop my eyes to meet hers.
“Yeah, have you ever dated that guy?”
“Um, no.” She shakes her head, scrunching up her face. “He’s just a friend—well, we kind of know each other from the dog park.”
“Has he asked you out?”
“No. I mean, he’s asked me to coffee before, but that’s all, we’ve never dated.”
“He’s into you.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Baby, I’m a man, and as a man, I can tell you that guy is interested in you and was definitely upset that you’re no longer available.”
“Really?” She bites her lip, studying me.
“Yeah, baby, really,” I say softly, and she frowns.
“I had no idea,” she mumbles.
“You wouldn’t know, because you’ve got no idea how beautiful you are,” I state, rubbing my thumb over the pulse of her wrist, feeling it speed up.
“I . . .”
“You’re gorgeous, and this sweet, unassuming thing you’ve got going on is a breath of fresh air to men like me and Hank, who are surrounded by women who’ve got nothing more to offer than a pretty face.”
“Um . . .” She drops her gaze from mine, and I smile. Most women who look like Fawn does would be using that beauty to get their way, but not her. No, she doesn’t even understand the power she has or when a man is interested in her. For me that shit is priceless and the exact thing that has drawn me to her from the beginning.
“Just so you know, you and Hank will never happen,” I inform her and feel her eyes on me, so I drop mine to look at her. “You’re mine, and I don’t share. He missed his chance when he didn’t step up to the plate like a man and straight up ask you out.”
“I . . . I was never interested in him.”
“Good to know, seeing how he’s going to try to convince you otherwise when you go to his showing.”
“What?” she asks as we head down the block toward our building.
“He made it pretty clear that I wasn’t invited to his showing—that right there tells me he plans on using that time alone with you as a way in.”