Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
So, no. No boyfriend or fiancée for me, but a kiss might be nice.
Or maybe, something more than a kiss…
I wouldn’t want to put my perfect “no dicks anywhere near my lady flower” record at risk, but the way Seven was holding Binx as he guided her around the dance floor made me wonder what it feels like to be held like that…like the person holding you finds you irresistible.
“Wendy Ann McGuire? Is that you?” The deep voice rumbling from my left makes me jump half a foot in the air.
“What?” I gasp as I spin to watch a tall shadow emerge from the open boathouse door. “Wh-who are you?”
He chuckles, a pleasant, rolling sound that makes the hair stand up on my arms. “Aw, come on. You remember me,” he says, grinning as he steps into the moonlight a few feet away. “You used to eat boogers in my backyard.”
“I did no such thing,” I protest, making the man laugh.
He chuckles again. “I was just teasing, McGuire. Everyone knows my little brother was the gross one.”
My eyes widen. “Connor Sinclair?”
“That’s me,” he says, a dimple popping in his right cheek.
My jaw drops as my gaze tracks up and down the tall, muscled person Connor Sinclair has become. From his tousled sandy blond hair to the shining tips of his fancy shoes, he looks…expensive. Expensive and polished and too handsome for his own good—all things I hate in a guy.
So why does my neck hair join my arm hair in prickling to life as he steps closer?
“Shouldn’t you be at the wedding?” he asks, motioning toward my gauzy lilac bridesmaid’s dress.
“I’m avoiding my mother,” I murmur, trying—and failing—to rip my gaze away from his. I can’t see what color his eyes are in the dim light, but they’re dazzling, even partly in shadow. He looks like he has secrets, fun ones that would be delightful to discover. “And your brother.”
His brows lift. “Petey? Is he showing his ass? Do I need to remind him how to treat a beautiful woman?”
I snort and am immediately mortified. I cover by stammering, “No, he’s fine. It’s my mother wanting to re-introduce me to your brother that I’m avoiding. I’m not interested in being set up right now.”
He nods, his eyes sparkling again. “Oh, no, you don’t want to be set up. Especially not with my brother.”
I tilt my head to one side. “Why not? Don’t you like your brother?”
“Don’t you?” he challenges, avoiding the question.
I narrow my eyes. “I don’t really remember him. Except that he ate gross things in the sandbox when we used to play together. Call me shallow, but that’s not the kind of thing I can get past, even if it happened almost twenty years ago. He was several years older than I was at the time. He really should have known better.”
He makes a considering sound. “I agree and can’t say that I blame you. And to answer your question, no, I don’t really care for my brother. Which is a shame. I like the idea of a close, brotherly bond, but…”
“But?” I prompt, intrigued by his openness. In my family, such betrayal of a fellow McGuire to a stranger, if discovered, would be punished by the cold shoulder and years of side-eye.
He shrugs. “That’s just not how it worked out for us.”
“But my mother said he’s joining your practice when he graduates.”
Connor grunts. “That’s what my mother keeps telling everyone, but that’s going to be hard to do now that I’ve sold the practice and am leaving town on Monday.” He flashes his dimple again as he adds in a faux whisper, “How pissed is she going to be when she finds out, do you think?”
I blink faster. “Wow. You’re…”
“Crazy?” he supplies.
I shake my head. “Brave.”
“Nah,” he says, his grin dimming a watt or two. “If I were brave, I would have told her I was leaving. I just can’t handle the drama right now. I’ve had my fill of that for the next thirty or forty years.”
I furrow my brow sympathetically. “I understand. My mother and Binx had a big blow-up fight last fall. The tension only lasted a month or so, but it nearly gave me an ulcer. I can’t handle conflict.”
“I can handle it,” he says, “just not if there’s no chance of the conflict being resolved. My parents refuse to see that my brother isn’t a good doctor. Even if they could see, I doubt it would change their minds. They’ve always gone out of their way to pander to Petey. But I can’t play along anymore, not when the lives and well-being of my patients could be at risk.” He exhales a soft laugh. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to dump on you.”
“No, it’s fine,” I say. “Feel free.”
“I just don’t have anyone else to talk to. I’m keeping the move top secret from everyone I know until I’m on my way out of town.” He smiles before adding in a softer voice, “And you have kind eyes.”