Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Chapter Four
Haven
Gage Buchanan is the best. The best, I thought dreamily, watching as he raised one perfectly muscled arm, his honed body taut as he paused long enough for me to engrave the picture into my brain, forever available to bring forth when I was in the mood to fantasize.
“He’s perfect,” someone sighed just as Gage shot into action, delivering a serve that whizzed toward the player on the opposite side of the tennis court. A perfect serve, of course, because, well, he was perfect. His opponent dove for the ball, swung wildly, and missed.
I pulled myself straight up from the counter, where I’d been resting my face on my palm as I’d gazed at Gage playing singles across from the smoothie bar at the club where I worked.
“Sorry,” I said, heading toward the two girls I hadn’t notice sit down at the bar, hearing another whack as the game continued.
“No problem,” the blond said, turning her head from the tennis court to me.
The other girl, a brunette, didn’t bother to look my way, her head going back and forth, obviously following the tennis ball from Gage and the good-looking, blond guy he was playing against. “Peach mango flaxseed,” she said distractedly.
I gave the back of her head a charming smile. “Of course. My pleasure. And for you?” I asked, turning my attention to the blond.
“An açaí bowl. But make sure to leave the strawberries off. They make me break out in hives.” She lowered her Chanel sunglasses, eyeing me over the top of the tortoise frames. “Last time I think you missed one. I felt itchy later.”
Sounds like a personal problem, likely unrelated to strawberries, I didn’t say.
She glared at me accusingly as if I’d deliberately planted said strawberry in the middle of her açaí bowl in a calculated effort to sabotage her flawless skin with an unsightly rash. My smile tightened as I worked to hold on to it. “I am so sorry,” I said sweetly. “I’ll double-, triple-check that there are no strawberries on or near your order.”
“Good,” she said, turning away as Gage shook his perfect, dark hair, sweat flying out around him as he ran toward the net to shake his partner’s hand. He’d won. Of course he’d won.
He was the best.
I sighed, turning away, and began gathering the ingredients for the two orders. I heard the girls whispering animatedly to each other, the inflection in their tones telling me they were gossiping. I didn’t bother to attempt to listen in. I didn’t care what they were talking about. This club was filled with a hundred more just like them. Rich, entitled brats who thought those who worked here were solely valuable for their ability to meet their every demand.
That was the thing about Gage Buchanan. He was different. He wasn’t only gorgeous. Perfect. The best. He was kind. He had impeccable manners; his smile was sincere. He looked everyone in the eye when they spoke to him and didn’t talk down to anyone. Even me, the out-of-towner working at the smoothie bar. I didn’t know too much else about him—other than he was a member of the exclusive golf and tennis club where I was working for the summer—but that was enough.
I set the smoothie and strawberry-free açaí bowl in front of the girls, added the orders to their tabs, and began wiping down the counter I’d just used, when the brunette said, “This summer is going to be awesome. Especially since Gage is single.”
Okay, now this I wanted to hear. My heart fluttered. Single. I moved the cleaning cloth slowly along the counter, craning my ears to listen in. Gage was single. Hmm. I paused in my cleaning. Even if he noticed me, it wasn’t like he and I could be anything long-term—I was only passing through this lake town—but what was wrong with a summer fling? What was wrong with finding happiness—even temporarily—with a gorgeous, kind, single man?
Nothing, that’s what.
Being on the road wasn’t always conducive to flings. Or maybe it’d been my state of mind. In any case, it’d been a long, dry spell.
“I heard Travis is single suddenly too.”
Ugh, Gage. Keep talking about Gage.
“Really?” the other girl practically breathed. “I thought for sure he was off the market permanently.”
“No, I don’t know what happened, but the rumor is someone cheated.”
The other girl snorted inelegantly. “We don’t have to wonder who cheated. Phoebe worships him even if he did fall about ten slots socially when he lost Pelion.”
“Yup. Apparently Phoebe left town to visit her sister in Florida. My guess is she’s completely brokenhearted and there to recover. At least she’ll come back with a killer tan.”
“Megs! Chelsea!” a girl in a tiny, black bikini across the way called, raising her hand and waving wildly to the two at my counter.
They grinned and waved back, the blond named Megs muttering under her breath, “God, she’s such a bitch. And she’s gained at least twenty pounds since last summer.” After a small snicker, she called, “Hey, sweetie! Look at you! You look amazing, doll. Be right over.”