Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“Jesus. If this got out…” Rodney says.
“No kidding.” I nod.
I see Dave glancing over my shoulder. “Hey, Casey? Speaking of the Reverend. Isn’t that his daughter right there? The girl from yesterday?”
I just grin and shake my head. I know the guys are screwing with me. But when the Rodney and Chris turn, and I see the looks on their faces shift, I’m not so sure. So I turn and look too, and sure enough, I see Michelle sitting in a booth with a blond girl around her age.
My heart skips a beat, and I grab my glass so tightly I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter.
“What the hell is she doing here?” I say. “She told me she was eighteen.”
Rodney laughs. “And? You didn’t have a fake ID at eighteen?”
Before anyone can say anything, I’m on my feet. I march straight over to their booth and sit down beside Michelle, who’s right in the middle of laughing at something her friend just said.
She looks up in shock and nearly flinches away, but then she recognizes me and relaxes.
“Um, excuse me?” her friend asks, all sassy-like. “Who are you? We’re right in the middle of something.”
“Taylor, it’s okay,” Michelle says softly. “This is Casey. He’s…working on the house my dad is having built.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she replies, clearly flirting and clearly tipsy.
Michelle groans. “Excuse her. She’s been drinking.”
“And you haven’t? I figured that must be why the two of you are all the way out here, am I right? Escaping the grasp of The Reverend for the evening?”
Michelle raises her glass–some kind of vodka tonic it looks like–and cheerses the air. “Don’t forget my future husband.”
“So you were actually serious about that?” I press, feeling my anger rising like a ball of molten steel in my windpipe. “You’re actually marrying that prick?”
Michelle shrugs. “Tradwife life, here I come.”
“Where’s the ring?” I press.
Again, she just shrugs. “Arranged marriage. I guess I don’t get one.”
“You know who his family is, right?” I’m furious. “They’re awful. They buy up any cheap, local real estate they can get their hands on and gentrify it–”
“Hey!” Michelle snaps. “Did you not miss the part yesterday where I mentioned I have no say in the matter?”
I keep eye contact with her as all the blood rushes to my cock.
She’s got a fire in her that I don’t think she even knows is there. But I can see it. She just needs to get out from under the thumb of the Reverend and the Williams family.
Don’t worry, baby. I can save you.
“So fight it!” I urge. “Tell your dad you’ll marry who you want. That this isn’t medieval England where women are married off by their fathers.”
What am I even doing? I’m losing control of myself. I’m smitten.
This girl has me behaving in ways I’ve never behaved before. Normally I’m laid-back, cool, easygoing. But right now I’m steaming. I want to grab her, shake her, and get her to fix her life tonight so she can be mine tomorrow.
“Who do you think you are?” Taylor chimes in, giggling. “Michelle’s life coach?”
I hide my smile. She’s got a point. I’m probably coming off pushy, and Taylor’s just looking out for her friend. After all, she doesn’t know me from Adam.
“She’s not single,” she adds. “But I am.”
Michelle groans. Just then, there’s a commotion at the door. I look up and see Jerry and two of his friends heading right for us. Jerry does not look happy.
“Well, well, well,” he sneers, glaring right at me. “Look who we have here. Stalking my fiancée now?”
“Actually I was just out for a drink and I happened to see Michelle sitting here. So I came over to say hi.”
“Right. And I’m Spiderman,” he scoffs.
“Speaking of stalking,” Michelle chimes in. “How did you even know I was here, Jerry? Have you been following me? Do you have an app on my phone or something?”
Jerry bites his lip and shifts his feet.
Busted, buddy.
“Hey, if it’s just a big coincidence that you and Mr. Saw Boy over here ran into each other”—he gestures dismissively at me—“why can’t it be a coincidence with me?”
I’m getting heated. The arrogance is dripping off this bastard like condensation dripping off a tub of cottage cheese.
“Because a guy like you wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this,” I say, standing. “Not without a good reason. Like, say, tracking his fiancée’s every move?”
Jerry’s wanna-be tough guy friend behind him steps forward. “Watch your mouth, pal.”
“Or what? You gonna throw Daddy’s money at me?”
Jerry laughs and steps right into my face. “Listen, pal. I get it. You don’t like me. I’m rich. My family’s rich. We could buy whatever shitty little neighborhood you grew up in and tear the whole thing down. You’ll never have a life like mine, and that kills you.”