Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“We had a conversation about you yesterday at his house.”
“Oh?” By her smile, I could tell she kind of liked that. “And what was said?”
“He bet me I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you for two weeks.”
Her head fell back as she laughed, exposing her throat. It took a lot of effort for me not to put my mouth on it. “Did you take it?”
“Fuck no.”
She laughed some more, then pressed close again, her cheek on my chest, her head tucked beneath my chin. I happened to catch Austin’s eye—he grinned wryly and shook his head. Devlin was staring at us like we were a math problem he was trying to figure out, and Mabel and Ari, also back at the table, were whispering back and forth as they observed us with keen-eyed glee.
When the song ended, the band announced they were taking a short break, and Kelly and I returned to the table. I pulled out her chair, and she sat down, fanning her face.
“Ooooh,” she breathed. “Hot out there.”
“Looked like it,” said Veronica. “Hey, Kelly, I have to use the ladies’ room. Would you like to come with me?”
“Yes.” Kelly glanced at me. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Is it okay?”
I stood up again. “I’ll walk you.”
“Xander, it’s literally twenty feet from here,” Mabel said, pointing toward the hallway next to the stage. “You can see the bathroom door.”
Kelly tugged on my arm. “Sit. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“We’ll be with her the whole time,” Veronica said, rising to her feet. Ari and Mabel popped up too, and the four of them hurried toward the women’s bathroom. Kelly did a good job keeping her head down, but I could have sworn I saw heads turn in her direction as she made her way across the empty dance floor.
“So,” Devlin said when it was just the three guys left at the table. “What’s with you and Pixie Hart?”
“He doesn’t like when you call her that,” Austin said with a grin.
“Because it’s not her name,” I said testily.
“Sorry.” Devlin leaned back in his chair and took a pull on his beer. “What’s with you and Kelly?”
I shrugged. “Nothing much.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing much from where I’m sitting,” Devlin taunted. “You can’t keep your eyes off her.”
“That’s not all he can’t keep off her,” Austin muttered, bringing his beer to his mouth. “And I’m not talking about his hoodie.”
“We’re just having fun together,” I said. “It’s not a big deal.”
“So she’s not in contention of the role of Mrs. Xander Buckley?” Austin asked.
I frowned at my older brother. “What the fuck are you talking about? I just met her three days ago.”
“I know, but I distinctly remember you saying to me earlier this summer that you were looking for a wife.”
Devlin burst out laughing. “Looking for a wife?”
“I never said that,” I argued, but it sounded like the kind of thing I might announce just to mess with him.
“You absolutely said that,” Austin countered. “We were in my garage. It was the night you bet me I wouldn’t be able to stay away from Veronica for two weeks.”
Devlin laughed. “How fast did you lose that one?”
“Lightning fast,” I said. “I don’t think he lasted more than a few days.”
“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.” Austin pointed a finger at me. “You told me you were two-thirds of the way to respectable adulthood, and a wife and some kids were going to be the final third.”
“Maybe you should move out of Dad’s house first,” Devlin joked.
“Fuck off, both of you.” Sweaty from dancing, or maybe the inquisition, I plucked my shirt away from my chest a few times. “All I meant was that I am now mature enough to handle the kind of committed relationship and responsibilities that come with having a wife.”
“So romantic,” Austin joked.
“Yeah, make sure you say it like that when you propose,” Devlin joked. “But add in the part where she’s going to bring you the last third of the way to respectability. That will really seal the deal.”
“Good thinking.” Austin pointed his beer at Devlin.
Devlin tapped his bottle to Austin’s. “If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s make a pitch.”
“Speaking of pitching, what’s the property you’re in town about?” I asked, eager to change the subject.
“One of our biggest clients, a resort company, wants to acquire Snowberry Lodge.”
“Seriously?” About twenty minutes from Cherry Tree harbor, Snowberry was one of the area’s first ski resorts, maybe even one of the nation’s first ski resorts. I pictured its dated Swiss Miss architecture and rickety old chairlifts. “That place has to be sixty years old. I didn’t even know it was still open.”
“It’s almost eighty years old, and it’s falling apart. Our client would tear it down. They just want the property it sits on for a new luxury hotel and winter sports complex. They’ve already acquired most of what’s around it.”