Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
He smiles with his shirt wadded in one hand. His heavily veined forearm flexes, and debauchery swims in his eyes. “Okay.”
This man is so frustrating.
“But do me one favor, though,” he says, smirking.
“What’s that?”
He leans down like he’s going to kiss me. I hold my breath, my heart pounding so hard I think it’s audible.
“It’s not polite to stare,” he whispers before standing again.
I exhale, making him laugh.
“Asshole.” I get to my feet and move away from him. “What time is it in the US?”
He glances at his watch. “It’s about eight o’clock at night in Nashville.”
“And what time is it here?”
“Eleven in the morning. I …”
Our attention is redirected to movement inside the house. Foxx. Renn’s security detail.
Why do gorgeous men only show up when I’m unavailable?
I was introduced to Foxx Carmichael in Vegas, shortly before we left for the airport. He’s tall, with dark blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a jawline cut from granite. He’s not rude, nor is he kind. I can’t tell if he’s pissed off or quietly entertained. I think Foxx has been with us since we left Vegas, but this is only the second time I’ve seen him.
He’s a mystery.
“The driver left your luggage in the foyer, and the llama is on top of your suitcases,” Foxx says. “I’ve secured the premises. Mr. Landry advised me that you prefer me to stay off-site. Is that correct?”
“Well, I mean, this is my honeymoon, Foxx,” Renn says jokingly.
Foxx’s lips twitch.
“I know this area well,” Renn says. “We’ll be good on our own for the most part. But if Blakely wants to do something alone, I want you to go with her.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, my head whipping to my husband. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”
He taps my nose. “Well, you’re getting one, anyway.”
I huff. “We’re going to talk about this.”
“Looking forward to it,” he says, grinning before turning back to Foxx. “I’ll call you if I need you.”
Foxx nods.
“Thank you, buddy,” Renn says, moving across the patio. “I appreciate you coming at the last minute.”
Foxx shakes Renn’s hand. “It’s my pleasure. I was afraid I would get sent with Brynne Abbott to Cabo.”
“You don’t like Mexico?” I ask.
“Mexico is fine. I take instructions from her husband. She, on the other hand, does not.”
I laugh.
Foxx nods again and slips out the front door.
“He’s an interesting individual,” I say, following Renn inside the house.
“He has an interesting background.”
“Oh, do tell.”
“Can’t, cutie. That’s not my story to share.”
“Come on,” I say, hopping on the gray and white stone counter. My feet swing back and forth. “I wanna know.”
He plants a hand on either side of me. “No.”
I grin. “It sounds way more interesting than Tate.”
Renn growls, making me laugh.
The sound of my laughter catches me off guard. It’s breezy and easy. I sound … happy.
I don’t really know what to make of that.
“You going to speak to Brock?” he asks.
My shoulders slump, and my forehead falls to his shoulder.
Renn chuckles. “I’m taking that as a not yet.”
My brother has been on my mind since we left him in Las Vegas. I hate that we left things so strained between us—between him and me, and him and Renn, too. But despite that, I’m also irritated that he didn’t offer more support during the meltdown. And that he hasn’t called to offer it by now.
“He hasn’t called or texted me, and I haven’t contacted him either.” I raise my head off Renn. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, how do I tell him about our agreement?”
“That you’re having my baby?”
I laugh, ignoring the way my belly tightens. “No. That I’m … Mrs. Brewer for the next ninety days.”
“Damn, I love the sound of that coming from your mouth.”
I gently push him away and jump off the counter.
My body tingles from his proximity and the gravel buried in his voice. Even though a nice breeze floats through the house from the ocean, I’m suddenly hot.
Renn’s eyes find mine. And bothered.
The muffled sound of a ringing phone in my pocket breaks the silence. I blow out a breath, thankful for the reprieve.
“That’s my ringtone for Ella,” I say.
He wipes his face with his shirt. “I need to make a few calls. We need food and toiletries because I’m sure Kellaway doesn’t have shit here. He never does.”
“What can I do to help?”
“What can you do?” He smiles. “Relax. That’s what you can do. Let me have Astrid figure out the logistics. She’ll be happy I need her for something.”
A bolt of jealousy fires through me. “Who is Astrid?”
“My assistant—our assistant now.”
“I don’t need an assistant.”
“Well, I don’t either, but I have one. I’ll give you her number. Anything you need, you can ask her. She’s a magician. Sometimes I think of random shit to see if she can do it. And she always does.”