Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I did know.
It was only now, after an hour of contemplation, that I realized that they were wearing two different colored shirts.
Casten had on red, while Corbyn wore a purple shirt…and their suits, although similar, weren’t the same.
“Oh, I was introduced to him,” I muttered, mostly to myself.
“When?” He lifted an eyebrow.
I lifted my angry eyes up to his.
“When he was fucking that woman in the bathroom,” I snarled.
I guess I should be thankful that I hadn’t punched the wrong Casten.
Casten rubbed his hands over his face like he was tired and I grimaced.
“I think I’m ready to go home when you are,” he grumbled.
“Can you come pick me up so I don’t have to walk back?” I asked hopefully.
He shook his head. “No. This isn’t a road we’re allowed to drive on, according to the winery. That’s why I knew where to come get you. They were about to send security out here because a woman was in their grape fields.”
I shrugged.
I didn’t care if I was in a restricted area.
I needed the time alone, and I’d take it any way I could get it.
The walk back to the winery wasn’t anywhere near as easy as the walk to the gazebo.
At first, it was alright. Then I realized that not only my stomach, but also my feet, were uncomfortable.
“What’s wrong?” Casten asked.
I didn’t reply.
A large hand around my upper arm had me stopping, and I turned my glare on him.
“What?” I asked.
“What’s wrong with you?” Casten asked again.
I refused to tell him my ridiculously high heels were hurting my feet and I sure as hell wasn’t telling him that I overdid it with my little scene followed by a hike.
It was looking like I’d made the wrong decision, and I hated admitting when I was wrong.
“My feet hurt,” I semi-lied.
His brows rose. “That’s why you’re walking like you’re an old lady?”
Noooo.
I glared at him and tried to yank my arm free of his iron grip, but he held strong with laughable ease.
“My stomach may hurt a little bit,” I admitted reluctantly.
His storm gray eyes narrowed, and I bit the inside of my lip at the way he studied my face.
Then he sighed.
And, before I knew it, I was up in his arms and being carried like a bride over the threshold on her wedding day.
“Umm,” I hummed, my brain not working right. “What are you doing?”
“I’m carrying you, what does it look like I’m doing?” he griped, not bothering to look down at me.
We were now moving about twice as fast as we’d been before, and the white road that I’d turned off to go into the trees became visible.
“It looks like you’re getting sweatier than you already were, and I think you should put me down,” I told him primly.
He snorted.
“I’m not putting you down. You’d probably hurt yourself, and then I’d feel bad about that, too,” he growled.
“Feel bad about that, too? What else do you feel bad about?” I asked warily.
“Bringing you here.”
My stomach dropped, and my heart froze as tears started to form in my eyes.
I deserved that. Totally and completely.
I was never going to get a man.
***
I smiled at Casten’s sister in law, Leslie.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
I shrugged.
“It probably would’ve been hilarious had he not looked just like Casten,” I told her.
Leslie smiled.
“I don’t even know how that happened. I’m so embarrassed,” Leslie continued.
I shrugged, turning to face out the window.
Casten was out there, speaking to Corbyn with his arm around his little sister’s shoulders.
He was holding her protectively, as the three of them spoke, and I was left wondering why I was still here.
I’d tried to call a cab, but Casten had hung up before I could even get three numbers dialed.
Then pocketed my phone.
I hadn’t tried to find a phone since, but I probably should at least try.
He hadn’t talked to me in well over an hour and a half, and I’d been sitting here alone for an hour of it.
That was until Leslie had taken pity on me and sat down next to me, apologizing.
She’d been doing it for thirty minutes, now, too.
It was beginning to make me uncomfortable.
I could see that Leslie was an incredibly shy woman, but if her man was anything like Casten, and I was guessing he was, then she had no way to stop the force that drove those two men.
My eyes moved on their own accord when I saw a flash of yellow, and I started to get really excited.
“Hey,” I said, stopping Leslie’s thirtieth apology. “I forgive you, alright?”
At her startled nod, I stood up, and patted her hand.
“Thanks for trying to make it better,” I told her as I grabbed up my purse, sans phone.
“You…you’re welcome,” she replied.
I smiled at her. “Your daughter is really cute, by the way. I hope you have a good rest of your night.”