Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
“Date?” I nearly choked on the wine I was sipping. “Earlier, you were just talking about casual sex.”
“I’m not allowed to be curious?”
“I’m just trying to figure out which it is. Are you hoping to casually sleep with me so you can get me out of your system, or are you hoping to date me? Because I’m getting mixed signals.”
“Maybe that’s a decision I would make in the heat of the moment. Or maybe I’m just exploring possibilities I never plan to act on.”
I was blushing hard when the server came by our table with a little metal scraper she used to scoop crumbs from the tablecloth. I smiled tightly, waiting for her to finish.
“Who says there will be a hot moment for you to make that decision?” I asked. I was flirting now. I felt it through my entire body–from the tingle of heat in my belly, which was spreading dangerously downward, to the buzz in my head. Flirting when I’d sworn off men was like a vegetarian sniffing a sizzling prime rib. It was stupid. But I couldn’t stop myself. There was something in the moment. Something in his eyes. Something in the kindness he’d shown me and the electric crackle that seemed to thicken the air every time we were around each other.
“Hmm.” Dean plucked off another chunk of bread, dipped it, and took a bite. He sat back in his chair, chewing and watching me with a growing smile. “Well, I’d say my chances are decent. I know I’ve already got you down on the schedule to share my bed tonight and…” he pretended to check his watch. “Five more days until this conference is over. And if our benevolent boss setting us up with a shared room for the work conference is any indication, I’m guessing we’ll be bunking together in Fairhope, too. What do you think?”
I hadn’t thought of that. “It’s possible,” I said slowly.
“Our hot moment, or bunking in Colorado?”
I gave him a dirty look. “Bunking in Colorado.”
“Ah, I see.” He lifted his wine glass, swirled and sipped. “So we’re still playing hard-to-get.”
“Actually, I think we’re supposed to be playing fake relationship. Or did you forget the plan?”
“Plans change, Pearl. And people break vows all the time. Not that I’m suggesting I’m one of those people, mind you. I’m only suggesting that no plan should ever be immune to changing if the situation calls for it. My uncle Chester was divorced four times before he finally settled down with a nice retired man he used to serve with in the army. What’s a vow if you’ve been lying to yourself, after all?”
I watched him over the rim of my glass, taking another sip of the fruity, delicious wine. I probably should have been slowing down. I wasn’t a heavy drinker, and even the lone glass I’d had was already starting to make me feel a little loose. “What lie have you been telling yourself?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Dean said. The words were simple, but his tone was dripping with some kind of thinly-veiled seduction I couldn’t put my finger on. All I knew was I felt like each syllable was threatening to pull me across the table and into his arms. What the hell was happening?
“I think it would be wise for us both to just… stick to the plan. A fake relationship is simple. Feelings don’t get involved and it doesn’t blow up before it’s supposed to. We both need to get through this wedding, at the very least, and then...” I trailed off, not knowing how I wanted to finish that sentence. Then we could talk about it? Was I really going to say that? Did I really want that?
Maybe.
“Hmm.” He said it again, thoughtfully as if he was in no hurry. I felt like prey being circled by an apex predator–a predator who knew it could have me whenever it wanted, but it was waiting for some unseen moment to pounce.
The anticipation of being in his sights made my body prickle with pinpoints of fire. It also made me want to fight back, if for no other reason than because I was stubborn and something deep within me wanted to prove him wrong–or at the very least, make him work harder for it than he thought he’d have to.
“I never asked,” I said, breaking the silence. “Who’s trying so hard to set you up? They must be pretty persistent if you were willing to do something this extreme to get them off your back.”
“My brothers, actually. Pierce and Damon.”
“Wow. So you have a big family. What’s your little sister’s name? The one you mentioned earlier.” I felt a touch of relief. Moving away from the earlier conversation felt like stepping out of a looming trap that could’ve sprung at any moment. Now we were in safer territory.