Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“Yeah? Your dad told me about your new adventure. Do you like the defense side?” His voice is gruff, but there’s a hint of softness in it, and he’s got me hanging on every freaking word that comes out of his mouth.
“It’s not bad,” I answer him, trying to pay less attention to every detail of the man. “I don’t know that it’s my cup of tea, necessarily, but it’s a need that has to be filled by someone. It’s been an interesting experience—one that I’m glad I’ve had. We’ll see how it goes, though.”
He nods, and I shift in the chair, my core burning under his gaze. Does he feel it, too? Or is the chemistry just all in my head? Whatever it is, his beats of silence are more than I can take as his expression hardens.
Did I say something wrong?
“Are you still at your firm?” I choke out, trying to keep the conversation going. I didn’t want him to approach me, but now I feel desperate to make him stay.
“Yeah, I’m still at the firm,” he says in a much harsher tone. “We’ll have to catch up some other time. I have a meeting,” he says, glancing down at his watch. He gives me this strange partial smile, and it’s just as jarring as him cutting out mid-conversation.
What the hell? What did I do wrong?
Troy spins on his heels and heads out of the store like he might keel over dead if he spends another second in it.
“Um… okay,” I mutter after he’s already out of earshot. As the disappointment sinks into my chest, I’m not surprised. Troy has always been a mysterious man, and back when I was in school, there were rumors of his involvement with the darker side of society, though I never believed them. However, it did make him that much more attractive.
I straighten my light wash jean shorts and stand, tugging my tank top down. My mind is still reeling as I approach Beth, who’s still filling out paperwork and giggling with the sales associate.
“Hey you,” I greet her as she signs her name at the bottom. “Almost done?”
She smiles up at me. “Almost. Who was that guy you were talking to?”
My stomach flips. “That was my dad’s best friend, Troy. I haven’t seen him since high school graduation. He’s always been busy when I’ve come home.
“He looks very wealthy,” she giggles. “Is he the one that’s the billionaire?”
“That’s the one,” I say with less enthusiasm, glancing over to the woman in the shop who’s actively eavesdropping. I’ve learned to pick up on small things like that, and it’s become a valuable skill.
“Okay, I think that’s all,” Beth says, sliding the paperwork back to her.
“It is. We’ll give you a call when it’s ready,” the associate beams, giving us both nods. “Have a wonderful day.”
We duck out of the bridal shop and into the warm air. It’s breezy, but the humidity is too high for my liking. My eyes scan the parking lot, my heart jumping when I spot a black Mercedes. Just outside it, leaning against the door, is Troy, and our eyes meet.
Fire rolls through me all over again. I find my lips parted and my face flushed. However, I don’t linger long enough to consider walking over to him. He cut out so rudely—all to what, stand in the parking lot? What an asshole.
I follow Beth to her car and slide into the passenger seat, halfway trying to convince myself to pretend I never saw him in the first place, and then my phone pings.
My mouth goes dry at the sight of a text from Troy Watkins. This cannot be real life right now. He was so brash only minutes ago, and now he’s texting. How did he get my number? I read the message, my mouth gaping for the second time today.
Sorry for the rush. Serious about catching up. Drinks at my place tonight?
My heart thuds in my chest, rattling my ribcage like a sledgehammer to a wall. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to meet up with him. However, the logical side of me is still freaking the freak out.
Oh my god. Oh my god. What would Dad think? Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe he just wants to know how my life is going. Maybe it’s innocent?
Then again, he must have felt the chemistry exploding in the middle of the most boring conversation, right? Or was that just me? I bite down so hard on my cheek that I taste copper. What the heck am I supposed to do?
“What’s wrong? You look like someone just put the thermostat on a hundred degrees,” Bethany says, poking me in the arm and tilting her head at me. “You get a spicy text or something? Your face is literally the color of my car.”