Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Here, he held me tight and secure, as if he’d had ballroom lessons. We moved easily across the floor because I’d also had many, many lessons. Thanks, Junior League.
Gavin looked down at me with that same wicked smile I’d fallen for three years ago before I screwed it all up. I could easily fall again. I was hardly acting with any of it. Gavin and I fit into each other’s world. We always had. First as friends and then as more, and now, even pretending, we seemed to fit just fine.
I exhaled with relief when the dance turned to more common dance songs, and all of Margaret’s friends ran out to the Wobble and then the Electric Slide. I moved right into the middle of the group, following along with the steps I’d done a hundred times. Then, Gavin barreled into the middle of us and did an exaggerated dance. We all laughed. Life of the party, and he ate up all the attention.
The rest of the night went through much of the same motions. We danced until I was exhausted, until my feet were numb, and then we danced some more. Margaret and Locke’s exit was an insane affair with a horse-drawn carriage and sparklers for the night sky.
Gavin set a sparkler in my hand, and we each held one aloft as they dashed down the makeshift aisle we’d made. They stopped in the middle and kissed for the camera while we all cheered. Then, they were off into the carriage. Maggie waved good-bye to the crowd until they disappeared.
Gavin took my sparkler to dispose of it safely. While he was gone, a man I’d thought looked familiar all night sidled up to me.
“Hey, you’re Whitley Bowen, right?”
“That’s me,” I said.
“I’m Curt Smith, out of Dallas.”
I nodded once, wondering where he was going with this. Dallas was a big place. Like New York, you could get lost in the people there.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Is your brother Wyatt Bowen?”
Now, I froze. “Oh. Uh, yes.”
“Cool. Cool. I wasn’t sure you were that Bowen.”
That Bowen. Shit.
“You … know my brother?”
“We golf at the same club. His wife is friends with mine. Here, you can meet Anna Kate.”
“Oh, I think we were leaving,” I said, hastily retreating. “Nice to meet you.”
Then, I turned and fled toward Gavin. Shit, shit, shit. I hadn’t considered that someone from Dallas would both know the Kings and my family. There wasn’t a lot of crossover between the cities, even with the two big family names.
When I glanced back up at Curt, he was already heading back inside with some other guys. I blew out a breath. It was fine. He was probably drunk enough that he wouldn’t even remember that we’d had that brief conversation. No reason to freak out.
Gavin’s hand landed on my shoulder, and I jumped. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah. Just ready to get back.”
“Me too. There’s some cleanup left, but it’s late. We should get you to bed.”
I looked up at him, expecting that to be an innuendo but it wasn’t. He looked serious. Like he was taking care of me after a long day.
After that kiss the first night, there hadn’t been anything else between us. Just hand holding and temple kisses in public. There had been tension in bed, but Gavin hadn’t made another move. Maybe I’d been misreading him.
We said our good-byes to his family and then drove back into town. Gavin had stopped drinking hours ago so that he could get us home. I was only a little tipsy. Neither of us needed alcohol to have a good time. Though it was nicer in New York, where we didn’t need a designated driver.
By the time we got back to the hotel, it was after midnight, and I was actually tired. I fought back a yawn as he pushed his way into the hotel room. We’d been up since dawn to get there in time for Gavin to be in pictures. I could crash face-first into the mattress and not wake until the next morning when we needed to catch our flight.
Then, I caught Gavin watching me, and I was suddenly wide awake.
“What?” I whispered.
He shook his head and stepped into the bedroom. “Nothing.”
“That didn’t look like nothing.”
He plucked the perfect knot I’d created for him this morning and let the ends of the tie hang loose around his neck. He faced me again, his expression a mask of indecision.
Then, he crooked his finger at me.
I swallowed hard and moved toward him. I didn’t stop until I was directly in front of him. His hands moved up into my hair, tilting my face up to meet his. I was frozen in place, my stomach roiling with anticipation of his practiced touch.
“What are you doing?” I managed to get out.
“Kissing my fiancée,” he growled.