Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
He repeats their names back to them, tells them how nice it is to meet them, and generally charms them just as expertly as he did my mom.
Then the questions start, mostly from Mom’s older sister, but with occasional interjections from her younger sister: How long have we been dating? How did we meet? What does Max do for a living?
Luckily, it’s all stuff that I’ve already covered with Mom, so our answers flow easily, with Max handling most of the queries. He touches me from time to time, on the arm or shoulder, and looks into my eyes frequently, all of his body language painting the picture of a close relationship.
“So when might we expect an invitation to your wedding?” my older aunt asks the two of us, and my jaw drops open.
We just told her we’ve only been dating for a month. Why in the world would she presume we'd be thinking about marriage?
As I stand there trying to form a response, Max flashes his trademark grin and pulls me to him with an arm slung around my shoulders. “You never can tell.”
Perhaps sensing my mood from the stiffness of my posture, he makes apologies and excuses us a minute later. “My lady needs a refill,” he says, gesturing to my glass. “It was very nice to meet you both, and we’ll see you later.”
“Thanks,” I murmur through clenched teeth as he escorts me back to the bar. “The nerve of them! This is why I didn’t want to bring a date.”
“Pretend you’re a duck, Callie. Let it roll right off your back.” He illustrates this advice by drawing a line down the center of my back, sending chills across my skin. “Another drink will help, but just one. You don’t want to get drunk and do something you’ll regret.”
I assume he’s referring to me saying things to my relatives that I’ll regret, but then I think about how I might behave toward him if I have too much to drink, and agree that would be a bad idea.
While we wait for our drinks, I spot Adam’s father again and point him out to Max. As we watch, Mr. Hargrove parts from the small group of people he’d been talking to and heads toward the hotel.
Max gives me a curious look when I laugh.
“It’s just funny how my mom is so concerned about this wedding and about impressing Mr. Hargrove, but as I expected, the man seems like he couldn't care less. The party’s barely gotten started and he’s already leaving.”
Watching him go, Max asks, “Is your mom still hoping to catch his eye?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even want to think about it.”
Max brushes a strand of hair away from my eyes as I take a big sip of my drink. “Want to skip out for a while? We could take a walk by the water,” he suggests.
“I’d love to.”
CHAPTER 23
CALLIE
Max holds my hand as we go down to the beach, and I try not to think about how it feels both comfortable and exciting.
When we reach the bottom of the steps, he slips off his shoes and socks and rolls up his pant legs, before he kneels and undoes the straps on my sandals. Hand-holding felt intimate, but him bowing in front of me, his fingers working at my ankles, is next level, and despite myself, my nipples go hard in response to his touch.
After he slips my shoes from my feet, he sets them next to his and takes my hand again. When I’m unsteady on the sand, he tightens his grip, keeping me stable.
We walk along the shore for a bit, and when we’re out of view of the party, I loosen my hold on his hand. “You can relax and stop the act for a while.”
“The act?”
“The boyfriend role.”
He doesn’t let go. “It’s easy pretending to be your boyfriend.”
It sounds like he’s flirting, but I could take his comment a couple of different ways. Maybe he just means that I’m easy to get along with. The key word in what he said is pretending.
We continue on for a while, watching the sun light up the surf in a blaze of orange and yellow as it sinks to the horizon.
I can’t say I’m having fun, but I’m more relaxed than I’ve been for a while, even though I’m continually distracted by conflicting thoughts about the man walking next to me.
This would be an incredibly romantic scene if we were actually dating.
After the sun disappears, we turn back toward the resort. In the distance, the party is still in full swing, fairy lights twinkling on the trees, the faint sound of music reaching us on the breeze.
Max lifts my hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “Do you want to get married someday?”
For the briefest of moments, my silly brain jolts, thinking he’s talking about him and me, but I quickly come to my senses. “No, I think it’s all pointless.”