Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Boyfriend,” Callan offered, shooting me a knowing, cocky smirk. “I’m Beth’s boyfriend.”
I bit back a giddy grin, but my sister saw it. “Oh, you’ve got it bad, huh?”
Callan laughed as I glared. “Hush you. What are you cooking?”
“I’m making us fajitas!” Elle waved us over and said to Callan, “You should know I’m the only cook among my siblings, so if you’re looking for a girlfriend to feed you, I’d keep looking.”
Wee brat. “He almost killed me with a curry, so he’d be a hypocrite to leave me for that.”
Callan sighed. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
“Too much spice?” Elle asked as she returned to the stove.
“Something like that,” I snorted. “Drink?”
He nodded, but I noted him taking in the expansive and well-kitted-out kitchen. My parents’ kitchen was the stuff of dreams with its Aga stove, multiple ovens, modern farmhouse cupboards, Belfast sink, and huge island with a marble waterfall countertop. Brass accents in the taps and handles added an extra touch of class. It was exactly the kind of kitchen I wanted when I was a proper grown-up.
“So, Callan, what’s it like to make a living kicking a ball down a field?” Elle asked as I set a drink in front of my boyfriend and sat next to him at the island.
“Elle!”
My wee sister grinned cheekily as she moved about the room, putting tortillas into the warming oven. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I might consider a career in professional women’s football, that’s all.”
I turned to Callan, who was chuckling. “She’s not lying. Elle wants to be a million things when she grows up.”
“When?” She quirked an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, but I’m the youngest and the most mature out of the lot of you.”
“Aww, it’s cute you think so.”
My sister shot me a dark look as she set out salad, guacamole, salsa, cheese, and sour cream. Grumbles awoke in my belly, and I felt a pang of gratitude despite her current glowering. Elle knew I was bringing Callan over this evening, and she also knew Mexican was my favorite.
“Well?” Elle stared at our guest. “What’s it like? Football?”
“It’s hard work. We train every day.”
“He’s not kidding. He has abs of steel,” I told her, swiping some cheese. “And stamina for days.”
Callan choked on a sip of sparkling water and shot me a wide-eyed What the fuck? look.
I shrugged because Elle didn’t understand my meaning.
“I know you’re talking about sex, you know, and gross.”
Oh shit. I kept forgetting she wasn’t ten anymore. “Sorry.” I grimaced sheepishly.
“Do you like being famous?” Elle asked Callan.
“Am I famous?”
“I knew who you were when Beth told us she was seeing you.” A slight flush hit my sister’s cheeks as she turned away.
I planted my chin in my palm, watching her duck her head with uncharacteristic shyness. Did Elle have a crush on my boyfriend? “Interesting,” I murmured.
“Shut up,” she said without looking at me.
“What am I missing?”
“Nothing, Captain.” I patted Callan’s knee, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, even though I also wanted to tease the living daylights out of my kid sister.
“It’s not what you think.” Elle set about putting the chicken fajita mix onto tortillas for us. “I … there’s a guy at school. He’s a huge Caley United fan, and he talks about Callan and Baird McMillan all the time.”
So she had a crush on a guy at school who liked Caledonia United?
“A guy at school?”
“Mm-hmm. He didn’t really talk to me much until you were pictured in the tabloids together …” She pushed plates toward us. “He thinks it’s cool you’re dating Callan.”
“You want an autographed shirt or something to give to him?” Callan offered.
“Wait, wait.” My protective big sister instincts kicked in. “He didn’t talk to you until he knew you were affiliated with Callan?”
Elle shrugged, plopping a huge dollop of sour cream on her food.
“Well, that’s not cool.”
“Maybe he saw it as his ‘in’ to talk to her.” Callan took a massive bite of fajita and swallowed before continuing, “It’s something I would have done if I liked a lassie but didn’t know how to approach her.”
“Oh, really? Because I thought you just glowered and grunted at a woman until she made the first move.”
He smirked, wiping salsa from his lip with his thumb. I wanted to lick it off. “Is that what happened? I don’t remember it that way.”
“What way do you remember it? Because I definitely remember some caveman qualities about your pursuit.”
“My pursuit? You were the one who made up a cock-and-bull story to get me into bed.”
“Pfft. Please. Like I needed a story.” I grinned, smug.
He grinned back. “Fair enough.”
“Um, enough flirting in front of the minor.” Elle drew our gazes back to her. “Do you really think it was only an excuse to talk to me?”
“Probably.” Callan nodded.