Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
"Of course she did." Nash pulls into a parking lot.
"She is a good friend." I'm quick to defend her, but Nash is already getting out of the car. I sit there watching him come around before he opens my door for me.
"Out."
"Do you have to bark orders at me?" I step out of the car, seeing we're at a restaurant.
"Do you have to push against everything that I say?"
Well, he’s not wrong. "At this point it’s probably a habit."
"I suppose that goes both ways," he admits before grabbing my hand and leading me toward the restaurant.
"I'm not going to run away." I tug on my hand, but he doesn't release it.
"In case you haven’t noticed, running from me doesn't get you very far."
I’m beginning to see that.
"I wasn't running today." The thought of running from him sounds hot, and my dirty mind goes down a little rabbit hole.
Having erotic fantasies of Nash is another bad habit. Most of the time, they are dirty, but every now and then I daydream of him cuddling me and us being silly. I have no clue where those come from because I hate Nash. There’s no way I'd cuddle him.
Ever.
"Mr. Rhodes." The pretty hostess beams at him before her eyes bounce over to me. They widen in surprise. "You have a date?"
"No."
"Yes." We both answer at the same time.
What the heck? First he's my fiancé and now we're on a date? He’s still holding my hand, so I'm sure it appears that way. A slow smile spreads across her face.
"I’ve got the perfect table for you then. Follow me." She grabs a couple of menus before leading us through the restaurant. It’s fairly empty at the moment, but it’s really nice.
The woman stops at a private table in the corner. It’s sitting next to a fireplace, and the whole setup is romantic. Nash finally releases my hand to pull out a chair for me.
The woman's bright smile stays on her face. "This is so cute. Nash on a date."
"It's not a date," I tell her, but she doesn’t believe me.
"Sure." She grins and then winks.
"I'm his sister," I try again.
"He doesn't have a sister," the hostess responds.
He must come here a lot if she knows so much about him. Jealousy flicks through me, and I fight it down. I have no reason to be jealous. I don’t want Nash, and she’s being nice. She doesn't seem into him. He’s probably used to women swooning over him, so what if he sees her as a challenge? I glance over at Nash, who is staring at me intently. I shift in my seat.
"Stepsister," Nash fills in. "I'll have my normal, and Goldie will have a cherry Coke."
“You got it. Archer will be over to take your order.”
“Wait,” Nash stops her. “Do you have someone else?”
“You don’t want Archer? Did he do something?”
“No, I’d just prefer another server. Do you have someone else?”
What’s the deal with Archer? What if Archer is dating the hostess and that’s why Nash doesn’t like him? The plot thickens.
“I’m so sorry, it's still early, and he’s the only server for the next”—she checks her watch—“thirty minutes.”
“Fine,” Nash agrees, and the hostess leaves.
“I see I’m not the only one you like giving a hard time.”
“Trust me, Goldie, you’re the only one I want to give my hard time to.”
Chapter Eight
NASH
When Archer comes over to our table, I want to grab Goldie and get the fuck out of here. Would flipping the table and tossing her over my shoulder be too much? At this point, I’m not sure I give a fuck.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Rhodes, I see you’ve got someone special with you today?” Archer turns his attention to Goldie, and I want to throw the tablecloth over her body to shield her from his view. “It’s lovely to see such a beautiful patron at our most intimate table.”
Every word that comes out of his mouth is like a slice to my control. To make matters worse, Goldie giggles. She fucking giggles. She’s never done that with me before. Maybe if I wasn’t such an asshole, she would.
“It’s a beautiful restaurant,” she tells him. “I’m so glad my brother could bring me here today.”
“Step,” I clarify for the second time.
“Oh, my mistake,” Archer says, and is it my imagination or does he move the slightest bit closer to Goldie? “Is there something specific you desire?”
Goldie’s cheeks flush pink as she looks at me and then at the menu. I have to clench my jaw to keep my mouth shut. If I speak I’m going to lose it.
“What’s the special?” She points to something on the menu, giving Archer an excuse to move right beside her.
When the hostess comes back to deliver our drinks, I hear her say something but don’t pay attention to it. I’m too busy glaring a hole through Archer. If he gets one millimeter closer to Goldie I’m going to remove his arms from his body.