Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Daisy’s baby-themed party is hopping. What feels like everyone in the damn city is here, inside one of the lavish reception rooms at the Beekman Hotel, ready to celebrate the upcoming arrival of two more Winslow boys.
I have a feeling my sister-in-law Sophie was behind the planning of this event. That much is probably evident by the way she’s scurrying around the room, making sure the caterers are keeping the buffet of appetizers stocked.
I grab a beer from the open bar and look across the room to find Flynn and Daisy greeting their guests as they arrive. They stand by the table that’s covered in gifts, hugging and shaking hands with everyone. Every few moments, Flynn leans down and presses a kiss to his wife’s forehead or rubs his hand over her round belly, and Daisy always gives him the same sweet smile in return.
Love sure is a motherfucker, isn’t it? It can take down even the most stubborn of men.
Well, besides me. Obviously.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to find a text that makes me grin.
Rachel: I have to know. Did you manage a gift?
Thankfully, with the help of a lovely woman named Susan at a little baby boutique shop thingy in Nolita, I managed to spend about two hundred dollars more than I probably should’ve on fancy fucking baby clothes and blankets and shit.
Susan was a real sleeper of a saleswoman. A little old lady with a soft smile but total shark instincts. She knew exactly what to say and how to get me to hand over my credit card before I even understood what was happening.
Me: Yes. I did. Lots of baby shit was purchased.
Rachel: Good.
I raise my fingers to type out another text, to tell her thanks for making me aware of the gift requirements, but my youngest brother’s loud-as-hell voice pulls my focus.
“So, where is she?” Jude asks, drinking from a bottle of beer and settling his hips into a table covered with more baby stuff than I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Huh?” My stomach flips, and my chest zaps immediately, thoughts of Rachel popping into my head uninvited. How does he know about her? Did he see me texting her just now?
Holy hell, you’re a fucking mess today.
Truthfully, I’ve felt out of sorts since I arrived at this shower. A little out of place, even.
All the happiness, all the couples, all the women talking about family stuff and planning vacations and musing about how happy they are with the state of their lives—it made me feel a bit like I wasn’t ready to be there. Like I couldn’t relate to my family. Like there’s been a shift in the universe, and maybe we’re going to start to grow apart.
It’s stupid mostly, I know that, but the basic principle of the feelings isn’t all that off-kilter. Two of my brothers and my sister, by and large, are entering a new phase of their lives. Hell, even my mom’s looking for long-term love after all these years of going it alone.
And I’m…well, I’m the same as always. Sure, I’ve been messing around with Rachel, but it’s all just a big game. She’s not seriously into me. She just likes messing with me. At least, I think. She couldn’t have really meant that “hot for teacher” shit, right? That was just to get under my skin.
“Yo, Ty!” Jude narrows his eyes at me. “Where is she?” he repeats slowly and like he’s speaking to a child.
“She? She who?” I scan the room for more approaching siblings in the form of an ambush.
“Amy? Meghan? Lucy? Melanie? Adriana?” Jude scoffs. “How should I know. Whatever the fuck your random chick’s name is. Where is she?”
I shake my head, waving him off. “I didn’t bring anyone today.”
“What? Are you serious? You, Ty Winslow, came to a family function without a woman?”
Initially, that was the plan, but then…I forgot. Well, I got distracted by the whole needing a gift debacle.
No, actually, you forgot because you got distracted by Rachel.
I roll my eyes, more at myself than at my brother, but I also quickly find a reason. “You don’t bring your own beer to an open bar, dude,” I tell him. “Baby showers are an all-you-can-eat buffet of women, if you haven’t noticed.”
And yet, you haven’t attempted to chat up even one of the women here…
What is going on with me? Have I become some kind of monk? A masochist?
A fucking masochistic monk?
“Apparently, Daisy already knows every woman in the city,” Jude says through a laugh. “She has no idea how lovable she is. Thought she’d have a few friends show up and that’s it, according to Flynn.”
Thankfully, I only have to halfway force the smile on my face. When it comes down to it, both of my sisters-in-law are the kind of women I’d want my brothers to end up with.