Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
She gave him a brief nod to ease whatever those concerns were, and he again released her gaze to sweep his eyes over the rest of the group.
In that instant—while he spoke, in a droll voice, of the harrowing moment when his chute wouldn’t open—Beth understood that he’d done this for her. He had distracted their friends so that she could slip back onto the patio unnoticed and thus avoid any awkward questions about where she’d been for so long.
It was the sweetest thing anybody had done for her in a long, long time. And simultaneously the most confusing.
She watched him. As enthralled as his captive audience, but for vastly different reasons. She was trying to work out what made him tick. Because just when she thought she had him all figured out he went and did something like this.
She blinked when everybody burst into laughter—having missed the punchline—though she wasn’t at all sure what could possibly be so damned funny about plummeting through the air without a parachute. Still, it must have been hilarious because they were all busting a gut laughing.
Good old Gideon. The life and soul of every party.
Now that he was done with his—tall?—tale, people were getting up, stretching, and refreshing their drinks. Zane and Cynthia wandered over the pool and sat down to dip their feet into the water. It was fully dark now, and Beth was happy to remain in her shadowed corner where very little of the torch and candlelight penetrated. This was as much privacy as she was going to get right now and she really needed these few moments of calm to gather her confused and scattered wits about her.
Beth felt very far removed from everyone else. Even from herself. She barely knew who she was anymore. The last twenty-four hours had been a study in confusion and emotional turmoil. She just wanted to go home to lick her wounds and figure out what her next move was going to be.
Continued avoidance of Gideon Hawthorne would definitely remain high on her list of priorities. After tonight’s humiliating encounter it was the only way forward.
“Here you are.” Cat’s voice startled Beth, who looked up to find her friend standing beside her. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”
“I have a killer headache,” Beth explained, not quite a lie. She did have a headache of sorts. An impossibly good-looking, six foot tall, walking, talking headache. “I d-don’t think I’m quite rid of last night’s hangover.”
“Oh no.” Cat’s immediate concern made Beth feel guilty over her little white lie.
“Do you need anything? Aspirin? Water?”
“I’m fine, I had a p-painkiller earlier, just sitting here waiting for it to take effect.” Beth conceded that she was a horrible person, lying to her best friend this way. But lying was so much easier than the truth.
She was hiding in the dark so that nobody would notice—and question her about—her swollen lips, or the stubble burn on the delicate skin of her neck. Or the look of confused sexual gratification she was certain had to be smoldering in her eyes.
She didn’t understand what was happening. She hated this. Beth never acted without first weighing through her every option. She’d never been a spontaneous person. A fact Granny June had often lamented upon. Beth’s grandmother had been chronically impulsive. Making snap decisions about everything from what to cook for dinner to adopting a cranky twenty-five-year-old African grey parrot with a serious attitude problem. Beth had never known what Granny June would do next. Living with the older woman had on occasion been a fun rollercoaster ride.
Beth was drawn back into the present when Cat spoke again, “It’ll help to get something in your stomach.”
“Yes, of course,” Beth muttered noncommittally.
“Well, then you’ll be happy to hear that we’re ready to eat,” Cat said, gracing Beth with her gorgeous smile. Cat was such a genuinely lovely person; it was always a pleasure to be around her. She was gorgeous both inside and out. Cat was tall and slender. Her multiracial background had blessed her with beautiful ethnically ambiguous features, curly dark hair and golden-brown skin.
Beth forced herself to summon up some enthusiasm for the meal ahead. She plastered a smile on her face and squeaked out a half-hearted, “great, I’m famished”, before pushing to her feet and walking with Cat to the kitchen where they’d set up a buffet.
Everybody was already milling around, plates in hand, and it was easy for Beth to hang back, while Cat happily chatted with Zane about something work-related. Cynthia, Lucy, and Kylie were chatting off to the side, while Gideon, Cam, and Kylie’s loud, shaggy-haired boyfriend were comparing tattoos. No contest really, Gideon had both of them soundly trounced. She tried not to stare at his chest when he unceremoniously lifted his shirt to show off the piece on his back, but as her eyes skittered away, they were snared by his gaze. And that was when she knew—she just knew—that he’d whipped his shirt up for her benefit. As if she hadn’t already spent timeless moments exploring, touching, kissing every inch of that work of art. Tattoo, not chest… oh, who was she fooling? Tattoo and chest were both masterpieces!