Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Declan, are you listening to me?”
“Yep,” I lied. I definitely hadn’t been. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was off my game.
Parker opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, a shadow cast over our table and a man said, “Well, if it isn’t my favorite baker.”
I looked up to see an attractive dark-haired guy in slacks and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“Yes, imagine me being here…at the bakery I own. How odd.” Parker crossed his arms, not looking at him.
“Boyfriend?” he asked, nodding to me. Well, shit. That was bold of him. What if I was? But from the sound of his voice, I was fairly certain he knew the answer to that question already.
“Best friend,” Parker replied.
“Thank God. I thought you were going to break my heart.”
“You have one of those?” Parker asked.
“Yes, it’s nearly as big as my—”
“Don’t even say it,” Parker cut him off.
“Get your mind out of the gutter. I wasn’t going to say that,” the flirty guy replied, and this was…very interesting. Whoever he was, I hadn’t heard about him, but he seemed very familiar with Parker.
“Why do you insist on coming into my bakery and ruining my day?” Parker asked, obviously trying not to smile.
“Is that any way to talk to your favorite customer?”
“Loretta is here?” Parker looked around.
“Am I interrupting something?” I asked.
“No,” Parker replied just as the guy said, “I have a little crush on your friend here.”
Parker rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t have a crush on me. He’s a flirt. He flirts with every guy he sees. He also has sex with all of them.”
“I’m friendly, and not all of them.”
“He’s a compulsive dater.”
“Well, yes. I can’t say he’s wrong there,” the flirt replied.
Which wasn’t Parker. If this guy was really interested in him, he needed to know that. And if he wasn’t, then all it would do was hurt my friend. “Well, if you knew him, you’d know that’s not his thing. Doesn’t sound like a good idea to me. Maybe you should leave him alone.”
The guy’s pupils blew wide, like he was surprised I’d said that, then nodded. “Nice of you to want to take care of him, but I think Parker is a big boy. If he asked me to stop, I would. Nice to meet you.” He turned to Park. “Have a good day, sweetheart.”
It wasn’t until he’d walked away that Parker groaned. “I hate him.”
But I was pretty sure he didn’t. “Sounds like you just have to tell him not to come back, and he won’t.”
Parker took a drink of his coffee, paused, then said, “So, who were you texting the other day?”
I barked out of laugh. “Fine. I won’t make you talk about the flirty guy you want to bone if you don’t bug me about my stuff.”
“So you admit you have stuff?” He cocked a brow.
“What’s his name, this guy you’re clearly into?”
“Ugh. Shut up. I’m not. All he has is dick and ass on the brain. He’s just annoying. I’ve never dated him or fucked him, but he’s determined to do both, and this conversation is over. How are things at Driftwood?”
We spent the rest of the morning talking about the bar and the podcast and things that were a lot more comfortable for both of us.
* * *
I knocked on Sebastian’s door later that afternoon, after using the same gate code he’d told me to use when I came here to hook up the other day. While his house was in a neighborhood, it was private due to the gate and the thick, ten-foot-tall bushes that lined the front of his property. Still, when he answered, the first thing I said was, “You should change your gate code and not give it to people.”
He gave me a playful, crooked, boyish smile, the one they talked about all over the media. “Yes, we went over this last time. Are you planning on sharing it?”
“No.”
“Breaking in?”
“Okay, sure, I’ll admit I am, but I’m not telling you when.”
He snickered again. “I think I’m safe with you.”
“Yeah, well, maybe that’s part of my evil plan.” I stepped inside, shoving my hands into my jeans pockets. Just here…at Sebastian Cole’s house…not planning on fucking him. Typical day in my life.
“You’re a caretaker.” He motioned for me to follow him, and I did.
“Huh?”
“Caretaker. They call you the loner, which fits, but you’re also a caretaker at heart. You do it with me, and the last time you were here you had to walk an employee out to their car first, and things you say on The Vers make it obvious you do the same with your friends.”
He led me through oversize French doors into his backyard. I’d never been back there before, and fuck, it was incredible. A little over-the-top but incredible. He had a pool with all sorts of rocks and palm trees and other plants so it looked like a tropical destination. The pool had a slide at one end, which struck me as odd since he didn’t have kids. There were multiple covered patios, each with ceiling fans and a whole outdoor kitchen and bar. There was a TV mounted in one area that held workout equipment. It was about as extravagant as Marcus’s place, which was saying a lot.