Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I could do this on my own.
I didn’t need my dad’s money or influence.
I was able to secure a job and make sure my bills were paid. Of course, my apartment was paid for by my father. He did the same for my brother after he graduated from college and felt it was the right thing to do for me, even though I tried to refuse. I would have much rather found my own apartment and made monthly rent payments, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Every “gift” I get from him goes into the bank, and believe me, there have been gifts over the years. Especially around divorce time, when our family name winds up in every gossip rag in the country. That’s usually when the past is revived, and everyone focuses on years’ worth of headlines featuring my dad’s wandering penis.
Slipping inside the car, I barely have time to fasten my seat belt before I’m thrust back into the seat as we jet down the driveway, as if on a runway. He pulls onto the street and easily maneuvers through the subdivision, before hitting one of the main arteries through this part of Kansas City.
“Any idea where you want to go? I’m not sure where the shopping hotspots are located,” he says, strumming his thumb against his steering wheel to the beat of the music on the radio.
“There’s a small shopping center a few miles up this road. It has a Kohl’s there.”
He glances my way and grins. “A Kohl’s? You think you’re going to find something for Sully’s at Kohl’s?”
I shrug. “Probably not, but that’s where I get most of my clothes from, so I’m sure I can find something suitable.”
The moment we hit a stoplight, Brock types something into the screen on his dash. It immediately gives him directions, sending us past the shopping center I was referring to and depositing us at some little boutique instead.
“This isn’t Kohl’s,” I state ignorantly as he shuts off the engine.
“I’m aware. Let’s go.” He jumps out, a little too agilely for a man of his size, and jogs around to get my door. I’m so caught off guard that I just sit here and stare. “You coming?”
Not yet.
My face instantly blushes at the thought racing through my mind that I avert my gaze and try to slip out as gracefully as he did. I, of course—because the universe hates me—get my leg caught on the bottom of the doorframe and practically stumble out of the fancy car. I fully expect Brock to tease me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes my hand, closes my door, and leads me toward the entrance.
“Come on, Sunshine. We have some shopping to do.”
I sigh and drop my shoulders, as if he’s dragging me to the electric chair. “Fine, but you better not forget my lemon cake.”
Brock snorts. “No worries, love. I got you.” He throws me a wink and a sexy little grin and opens the door.
“May I help you?” a perky little blonde with a tight white shirt says the moment we hit the air conditioning.
“We need a dress. For dinner.”
“Of course.” The woman with the name Sasha on her name tag beams. “And what can I help you with?” she adds, a flirty glimmer in her pretty blue eyes.
“I’ll just grab what I need while you help Joey,” Brock replies, practically pushing me forward.
“Joey?” Sasha asks, confusion written all over her face.
“Hi. I’m Joey,” I mutter, waving my hand in front of her. To be honest, this kind of thing happens all the time when I’m with Caleb. One look at his boyish good looks and the ladies get all loopy. Clearly, Brock has the same potent powers over the female population.
“Of course! Right this way,” Sasha replies, throwing one more blinding white smile toward Brock. I’m pretty sure, if it were up to her, she’d be bent over the front counter the moment I slip inside the dressing room.
“Do you have a color in mind?”
I glance around at the dresses of every style and color. “I guess something dark.” Maybe it’ll help hide me.
I barely even pay attention as she pulls a few dresses for me without even asking my size and thrusts them into one of the rooms. “Try these on and step outside. I’ll wait for you here,” she says, pointing to the small sitting area.
Sighing, I close the curtain and stare at her selection. I thumb through the first few, hating them instantly. They’re low cut and revealing, something I’d never be caught dead wearing. I settle on a simple black dress that hits just below the knees. It has a subtle plunging neckline, which doesn’t give a peep show a guy would usually have to pay for.
Resolved to get this over with, I pull open the curtain and step outside, fully expecting to either find Sasha waiting, as she indicated, or seeing her bent over the front counter, as she’d prefer. I find neither.