Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
His frown deepened. “I’m not shy. I’m just not comfortable making small talk with strangers. Never have been. Don’t ask me why, I don’t know. It’s just the way I am.”
Something like tenderness filled me. I considered him. “So if you’re uncomfortable talking to strangers, how did you ever get a date?”
Rafe shrugged. “My lack of loquaciousness never seemed to bother the women I’ve dated.”
My gaze dragged over him and his masculine beauty. “Of course it didn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
I snorted, gesturing to him with my free hand. “Look at you. You don’t look like a vet, Rafe. You look like the model they hire to play the vet for the hot guy career calendar.”
A tinge of red crested high on his cheeks as his eyes narrowed on me. Then his gaze swept down, lingering on my breasts, before traveling downward and back up again.
I was being smoldered at by Rafe Whitman and every inch of me loved it.
He was wearing too many clothes and so was I.
Shit.
“Anyway, lack of loquaciousness or not, I’m starting to think I’ve never really had a good radar for picking women who don’t have ulterior motives,” he mused sullenly.
I studied him in all his brooding. “What does that mean?”
He shrugged. “Most of my relationships have ended because my girlfriends turned out to be different people from what I’d been led to believe. And the hell of it is, my family always seemed to pick up on it before I did. Maybe that’s why I never caught one of them chatting away with Gigi like they’re long-lost friends.” Rafe’s gaze turned hot and intense again as he stared into my eyes, as if daring me to acknowledge the insinuation that I was a better fit than his previous girlfriends.
Heart racing, I pushed off the tree, then took a long swig of the beer before I said, “Shouldn’t we get back?”
“Dying to know which Birkin bag should be in your closet or what the best insurance provider for it is?” Rafe drawled wryly.
Chuckling, I forced myself to relax. “Hey, these are your people. And they’re not all like that. Most of them talk about their kids, which is nice. I like how much they care about them.”
Rafe was quiet for a moment before he surprised me. “I know things aren’t great with your parents, but you are in contact, right?”
I stiffened. “I texted my mom two months ago and she never got back to me. Worried, I tried my dad and he finally texted last week to let me know they were all good. Alive and stuff.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My mom is too uninvolved and yours is too involved. What a pair we make.”
But Rafe didn’t want to make light of my parents’ shittiness. Anger and concern lit his eyes. “It’s their loss, Star. It’s their big fucking loss because they’re missing out on someone very special.”
My breath caught.
Rafe Whitman had just told me I was very special.
His expression darkened to something surprising. Arousing. “Star—”
“We should get back to the party,” I practically squeaked as I pivoted away from him and toward the house. What was going on? Why was he suddenly acting like he wanted me? I couldn’t handle it. “We can’t make your family and friends believe we’re dating if they’re not around to see it.”
A few seconds later, I heard Rafe’s footsteps behind me, and then he was at my side, his hand on my back. “That’s very true.”
I waited for more flirt.
None came.
Great.
We were back on the same page. Hopefully.
So why was my heart racing a mile an hour as Rafe guided me back to the party? We put our empty beer bottles on the bar and grabbed two fresh, cold ones. We nodded at people we’d already said hello to and then stopped to watch Gigi cannonball into the pool with the kids.
I grinned as she reached the surface, screaming, “I am the awesomest!”
“I love your sister,” I told him in all honesty.
Rafe grunted at that.
“Get in here!” Gigi caught sight of us.
“I don’t have a suit,” I called back to her.
“You can have one of mine!”
Considering I was packing more curves than Gigi, I doubted anything of hers would fit me.
“C’mon, Star!”
“No!” Rafe called back.
Gigi made a face. “Why not?”
“Because she’s busy.” The bastard made sure of that by pulling me into him with one arm around my waist and bending his head to cover my mouth with his. I gasped at the sudden kiss, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue over mine. Gigi’s whistle was a reminder that we were in public and I had no choice but to lean into him and kiss him right back.
Absolutely no choice.
Honestly.
It had nothing to do with the fact that Rafe Whitman kissed like it was the last kiss he’d ever give.