Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Rayleigh’s eyes have gotten bigger and bigger as I list activities off. “I want to do it all,” she says with a happy sigh. I swear there are stars in her eyes. Or maybe pumpkins.
“Then ‘do it all’ we shall,” I agree.
We start with the hay maze, then pet llamas, ride the Ferris wheel, and eat our weight in baked potatoes topped with award-winning chili. As we walk around the bonfire, looking for a spot to call ours, I hear a squeal off to my right. “Oh my god! Can I get a picture with you?”
That high-pitched, loud female voice catches my ear, but what really draws my attention is the answer. “Sure. Come on in for a close-up.”
Dalton.
When I find him, he’s standing with his arm around the waist of a pretty blonde who’s basically hanging on him. Her hand is planted on his chest, her leg is hitched up near his thigh like she wants to hump it, and she’s leaning into him, pressing the entire length of her body to his so he can feel the squish of her breasts.
Of course, Dalton is doing his sexy one-sided smirk face, probably thinking he won the pussy lottery.
“Say Days!” the woman’s friend shouts, holding up a phone to take their picture.
“Days,” the blonde purrs, smirking first at the camera and then at Dalton.
They keep talking for several seconds after the friend lowers the phone, and I swear she offers to suck him off right here and now, in front of the whole town and everyone.
Well, that part might be my imagination, but I wouldn’t put it past her given the sparkle in her eye and the cocky tilt of Dalton’s head as he gives her all his attention.
I don’t mean to move, but my feet don’t get the memo, and before I know it, I’m marching toward him, steam probably spouting from my ears.
I shouldn’t be jealous. I can’t be jealous. We aren’t anything to each other, and Dalton definitely doesn’t owe me anything. But like Elvis, logic has left the building. And every prejudice I have against athletes is coming to life before my eyes, being confirmed in real time.
“Hey, sis,” Shepherd says.
I didn’t even notice that other players are standing with Dalton, also taking pictures with fans. Well, fans, puck bunnies . . . same difference in this instance.
I stammer, the smackdown I was about to give Dalton stuck in my throat. “Uh, hey, Shep. Hanovich. Days.” I put a little extra stank on Dalton’s name, and he looks at me in confusion.
I shoot laser daggers out of my eyes at him and then smile sweetly at my brother. “Looks like you’ve got a great spot for the bonfire. Mind if we join you?”
“No, pop a squat. Who’s your friend?”
Shepherd looks at Rayleigh with interest and I introduce her to the guys, who all shake her hand like the gentlemen they’re most definitely not. When Dalton frees himself from his cling-on bunny to take Rayleigh’s hand, he glances my way and I can see the laughter sparkling in his dark eyes. He knows I’m jealous and is internally laughing at me.
I glare harder, adding acid fire to the laser beams, and he laughs out loud.
Shepherd and Hanovich look at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing. A kid over there was making faces,” he deftly dodges, easily lying though his stupid white teeth and perfect lips.
I spread my blanket out, and Rayleigh and I sit down. Dalton, Shepherd, and Hanovich sit on a huge Moose-logo-emblazoned blanket, and like the huntress she is, Blondie perches right on the edge beside Dalton, leaving her friend sitting on the grass and excitedly side-eyeing her like she’s gonna get a front-row seat to her friend’s hopes and dreams of becoming Dalton’s latest and greatest coming true.
“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?” Shep asks Rayleigh. I don’t think my brother has ever met a stranger. New people are just friends he hasn’t made yet.
She nods. “Yeah, I’m going home to see family. Leaving Tuesday to beat the traffic.”
“Luckily, home is here for me,” Shep replies, easily making small talk. “My other sister’s coming in with her husband, and it’ll be the whole Barlowe crew gathered around the table, arguing over who the favorite kid is. Spoiler alert: it’s me. It’s always been me. But we let Joy think it’s her every once in a while so she doesn’t cry.” He throws a smirk my way, charming my friend and putting me down in one fell swoop.
“What about you, Dalton?” the blonde asks him. “Need a place to go for turkey . . . and stuffing?”
“Jesus, just ask him if he wants to fuck,” I mutter under my breath. Luckily, the only person who hears me is Rayleigh, whose spine goes stiff as she looks at me in shock, fighting off a giggle.