Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“I like stockings. Tights. Thigh-high socks,” I say breezily.
He swallows again. Rougher this time. Then, like he’s collecting himself, he gives a soldier’s nod. “Okay then.”
His voice makes it sound almost like he’s…aroused?
Oh.
Oh, my.
Is that why he’s acting odd? What a wild thought. “Don’t cut the stockings though. I like them.”
As he snips, he mutters, “Me too.”
He diligently works the scissors across the rest of the dress, leaving a jagged edge in his wake. I glance up at Dev, who’s snapping photos of the moment.
I could see it on a postcard sold at a roadside gas-and-go. A woman with red hair, beach curls, a face scrubbed free of makeup, and a guy in Crocs and rolled up suit pants slicing up her wedding dress outside a 7-Eleven under the sun.
Congratu-fucking-lations on your un-wedding day.
That’s what the postcard would say. When Ledger is nearly done, he stops, lifting the scissors and waving them at Dev. “Want a turn?”
Dev lowers the phone. A flirty grin spreads across his handsome face as he meets my gaze. “I sure do.”
Ledger rises, gives the scissors to Dev, then takes his phone. Trading places, Dev kneels in front of me, while Ledger takes a pic of us. I focus on the beautiful damage Dev is doing to the tulle as he finishes with a “Done.”
It’s now a minidress.
I stand, a pair of scissors in one hand, and a huge swath of dirty, destroyed dress in the other. Yes, the dress finally feels like it fits. There’s just one thing left to do. I tug off my engagement ring, then reach behind my neck to undo the simple silver chain I’m wearing with a sparkly star on it—my eighteenth birthday gift from my grandma before she passed. “Always be sparkly, Aubrey,” she’d said.
But it’s hard to unclasp the chain with this ring in my hand.
Reading the situation, Dev offers an, “I’ll do it.”
A little shiver shimmies through me. “Thanks,” I say, then he moves behind me as I brush my hair to the side, giving him room to see my neck. His fingers skim my nape, and the breath nearly whooshes from me, but I purse my lips in time. Aiden hardly ever touched my neck, but I think I’d love some neck attention. Only, it doesn’t last long, since Dev has the chain unclasped in seconds. As Ledger watches the whole scene, I drop the ring on the chain, then Dev clasps it back on me once more. This time, there’s a hitch in his breath. “There you go.”
I drop my hair, and he moves around me.
I strike a pose for them. “What do you guys think?”
They both stare at me for longer than I’d have expected with something like heat in their gazes. Or perhaps that’s just admiration? I’m not sure I should be trying to assess the motivation of men today, or any day.
“You look…” Dev begins, but his voice is gravelly. “Great,” he manages to say.
Ledger nods a few times. “Nice new style.”
I don’t know what it says about me that their compliments make me feel better than any I ever got from Aiden.
6
A HARD TIME
Dev
I’m still holding the hammer as the bell rings loud, shrill and damn satisfying.
“Now that’s just showing off,” Aubrey says as she points to the top of the high striker game, where I’ve hit the puck and sent it to the top fucking level. I mean, what else was I going to do? Not hit it hard?
“Sorry, not sorry,” I say. “I’m also not sorry I beat Ledger.”
From his place next to the guy operating the game, Ledger rolls his eyes. “Yeah, those are the stats that matter. The pucks I hit in carnival games.”
“A puck’s a puck,” I say.
When Aubrey said she wanted to do everything, she meant everything. We’ve ridden the roller coaster, the swings, the Tilt-A-Whirl. We’ve thrown darts, played Skee-Ball, and now, swung mallets.
I place the hammer down and quickly fire off a text to Garrett, letting him know Aubrey’s doing okay—or as okay as can be expected on a day like this.
It’s her turn, and she’s assessing the mallet and the lever. Since I’m unable to resist a challenge, I step closer. “Want a tip?”
“Like, develop sick lats and big biceps in the next five seconds?”
I smile. “That, or focus on technique. Start with the hammer high above your head, let gravity pull it down, then use your hips and thighs as you lower yourself into the shot.”
She blinks. “Piece of cake,” she deadpans.
“Or I can show you,” I offer.
Ledger chuckles under his breath. “Of course you can.”
“Mock me for being helpful,” I say, then wait for her answer.
“Sure. Show me,” Aubrey says with a gamer spirit.
I move behind her, reach around her waist, and lift the hammer with her…but should I really be this close to Garrett’s little sister? I’m here to help her forget about her shitty ass ex, not to flirt.