Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
You should tell him that. No kissing or hanky-panky, I ordered myself. Make your boundaries clear from the start.
The doorbell rang, giving me a jolt, and I stood, taking a deep breath. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this nervous about a date.
It’s just Brodan, for goodness’ sake.
Smoothing down my fitted winter jacket, I summoned inner calm and strode across the room to open the door.
Brodan stood on the pavement, beautiful in his wool peacoat and gray scarf, his cheeks flushed from the cold. Those famous pale-blue eyes glinted with delight at the sight of me. “Morning, Sunset.”
I’d long given up on telling him not to call me that. I smirked. “Morning, Adair.”
He held out a hand. “Ready to go?”
I stared at his outstretched hand, then his face. “There have to be rules first.”
Brodan lowered his arm, his expression wary. “Okay?”
Licking my lips, I drew myself up and ordered primly, “There will be no kissing on this date. There will definitely be no sex. Physical desire will be ignored so that we have all of our faculties about us.”
“Why? Will we be solving equations on this date?” he teased.
“I’ll be solving the puzzle that is you, Brodan, so yes, as a matter of fact. I will need to be clearheaded so I can decide what I want, and I can’t do that if I have lust gumming up the works.”
His lips twitched with amusement. “Don’t you think our amazing sexual chemistry is an important deciding factor?”
Typical man. “Unlike some people, I’m not led around by my vagina.”
“Oh, really?” He took a step toward me, challenge blazing in his gaze. “Fine. I’ll bet I can hold out longer than you.”
Surprised, I gaped. “From what? Kissing me?”
“Kissing, fucking … the lot.”
I snorted long and derisively. “I’d like to see you try.”
“And you will. I’ll wager if you break first, you have to agree to date me for at least three months.”
“What?”
He nodded, anticipation clear in his expression. “And if I break first … it’s just a month.”
“Pfft. If you break first, I don’t have to date you at all.”
“No, I’m not taking that bet.”
“Ha, because you don’t trust yourself not to break first.”
“Fine.” He scowled. “If I break first, you don’t have to date me at all.”
I held out my hand, feeling pretty certain I was going to win this bet, and trying not to think about why that filled me with unease. “Shake on it.”
Brodan shook my hand, still glowering. When he released me, he gave me a look of such longing, I felt a crack across my heart. Looking away, I reached inside to grab my keys and bag off the sideboard and then stepped out to lock up. “Okay, let’s do this.”
When Brodan drove us south and we were crossing the firth, I was worried for a second that he was taking us to Inverness. I was pretty sure we’d never get a moment’s peace in the city, if the Christmas fair had been anything to go by.
“No. We’re going to Portmahomack,” Brodan explained.
“Really?” The tiny harbor town sat on the coast, looking back across the water toward Sutherland, including Ardnoch and Caelmore. Although postcard picturesque, there wasn’t a lot there except for a small, lovely beach.
“Thought we could grab a quiet lunch at the pub. Away from the prying eyes of Ardnoch. And I reckon it’s one of the few places no one will interrupt us.”
I reckoned he was right. It was mid-December. Most tourists had gone home for winter, and Portmahomack should offer us some privacy.
“Does it bother you?” I asked as we drove along the frosted coast.
“What?”
“Strangers asking you for selfies and intruding on your privacy everywhere you go?”
“It didn’t use to. Now that I actually want my life back, I think I might have a harder time dealing with it. The fair wasn’t fun for me, just so you know.”
I could understand that, and I hated it for him. Yet, we both knew it was the consequences of the choices he’d made. “I’m sorry for leaving like that.”
“No, I get it. It’s a lot.” His knuckles tightened around the wheel despite his understanding tone.
Changing the subject, I asked, “Have you let anyone else see your script yet?”
Brodan relaxed and shot me a smile. “I did. I got up the courage to send it to my agent, Anders. He’s been pestering me for weeks, so the script made his day. He’s not happy I’m retiring, but I think he thinks I’ll change my mind, so he’s letting it go and shopping the script out to people—actors, producers, et cetera—to see if anyone bites. I would like to be a producer on it, see it through, but we’ll just need to wait.”
“Would that mean being on set?” Would that mean him traveling constantly again?
“Sometimes. Not all.” As if he sensed my apprehension, he added, “It wouldn’t be like before. I wouldn’t be gone all the time. I don’t want to be. A movie a year would satisfy.”