Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 133886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
He had no idea where he was going, but he couldn’t stay there another second. He was crawling out of his skin.
Fuck his whole life.
Chapter 27
“You could at least smile and pretend to be happy you’re here,” Skye whispered in Dallas’s ear.
He looked over at his date for the evening, Skye, who stared up at him with bright eyes and a giant grin. Skye looked pretty in her clingy dress. How long had it been since he’d seen her in anything other than athletic gear and an occasional pair of blue jeans?
What he appreciated most about Skye was her gallant attempt to compensate for his foul mood. She’d been charming and fun to be around all evening. She always had his back. Something that meant the world to him.
Dallas dropped his brow into a hard V to tease her playfulness. Unfazed, Skye used her fingers to lift the corners of his lips. He did smile which showed exactly how much of a healing balm she was to him.
“You look handsome. I’ll be fighting off the ladies tonight.”
“Don’t let anyone outbid you,” he whispered, like he’d done about twenty-five times already this evening.
“I have two hundred dollars. Make yourself look ugly so we don’t go over our budget.” She winked at him, giving a knowing look as if he had it in him to turn into a troll. He couldn’t help the burst of laughter, disrupting the current speaker at the podium.
“I’m thinking it’ll be twenty-five dollars, max,” he whispered.
“We’ll see.” She cocked her head to his almost untouched plate of food in front of him. “Eat. It’s a free meal.”
After the week from hell and navigating the aftermath of a not-so-subtle heartbreak, he could say that some of the over-the-top emotional overload had begun to settle for him. Eating wasn’t an option yet, though. He’d completely lost his appetite. He supposed he’d eat again before he starved to death. At least it made sense to him that his body’s survival mode would eventually supersede his fucked-up hurting heart and head.
Dallas listened as Mrs. Haven was announced and took the stage. She ran the auction. His nerves promptly got the best of him as showtime neared.
Skye scooted from her seat, taking his attention with her. “I’m running to the bathroom.
“I’m the ninth one. Don’t be gone long,” he instructed, resisting the urge to clasp her wrist and keep her there with him.
“Two minutes.”
His inner introvert didn’t like Skye’s timing one little bit. Dallas watched Skye go as Mrs. Haven’s voice drew him back to her. Like always, she was her normal, funny self. He let go of a long, uneven exhale. How had he let himself get into this mess?
=♥=
“I placed his suit with your suit in the garment bag. The weekender has a change of clothes for both of you as well as the logoed beachwear for Sunday’s cleanup. You leave early Sunday morning at six a.m., so don’t dawdle. Cars are arranged to take you to the airport, then to the cleanup. You’re scheduled to leave the cleanup at two after a group lunch with the NPR reporters. You should be home by about five. Your car should be waiting at the airport back here in Dallas. So follow the itinerary,” Kailey said through Bluetooth.
Greer nodded, committing the plan to memory as he stared out the front windshield of his sports car. “Did you contact Ducky?”
“Yes. I kept it vague and told him you were taking Dallas on an unexpected photo op over the weekend. He sounded oddly relieved and said Dallas needed to get away. He’d been real stressed lately. Then he rambled about Dallas working too much, and that he’d finally figured it out. I didn’t press him as to what he figured out.”
Greer had no idea what Ducky meant. He’d been so solidly stuck in the idea that none of this was a good idea that he hadn’t really considered much else. “How did he sound? Questioning or like he was buying it?”
“I don’t know how he normally sounds, but he seemed fine,” she explained. Kailey had been extraordinarily patient with Greer. He appreciated her effort, and nodded, staring at the darkened brick of the building. If something didn’t happen soon, his internal freak-out might get the best of him.
Even expecting Skye’s text message, the loud chirp of his phone, letting him know it was game time, startled the shit out of him. The bright light of the screen illuminated the inside of his vehicle.
“I gotta go in,” he said in a rush. Greer’s heart hammered as he reached to kill the engine. The give and take of the wisdom of whether he should move forward with this desperate hairbrained idea was getting the best of him.
“Good luck, brother. Let me know how it goes.”
Fuck. He couldn’t seem to make himself reach for the door handle. What the hell was going on with him? Greer’s forehead hit the steering wheel and he closed his eyes, demanding he calm the fuck down.