Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“MOM!” Shiloh screamed, running toward the tent, barreling through the flap—followed by the rest of the children, all shouting for their mothers.
“Wait. Guys, wait.”
Hallie hurried after them with two empty donut boxes under her arms—whoa, empty?—but it was too late to prevent what happened next. She entered the tent just in time to watch the sugar-hyped kids fly around like pinballs. Wineglasses sloshed in the hands of VIP guests, and in two cases, tables were bumped, glass shattering and the hum of conversation grinding to a halt. Hallie stood just inside the entrance in a sort of trance, her gaze moving unerringly to Julian, who stood on the other side of the flabbergasted crowd, a glass of wine poised halfway to his mouth.
She could practically hear his thoughts out loud, they were so plain on his face.
Here was Hallie, once again proving herself a purveyor of chaos.
Barely fit to be among adults. And patently incapable of managing children.
Destruction in the flesh—now available for parties.
Julian lowered his glass, set it down, and just managed to steady a row of wine flutes on the Vos Vineyard display before they were knocked over.
Hallie winced and began chasing the wayward children. She was quickly joined by Owen, who gave her a sympathetic smile, which was a lot more comforting than Julian’s steely-eyed judgment.
Like most times she was faced with an unpleasant truth about herself, she dodged it—and what else could that look in Julian’s eyes mean except for exasperation?
Forget about him and fix your mess.
Chapter Thirteen
Owen has to go.
There was already a crowd assembled, wanting to be entertained for the night. Why not make it a murder mystery? Everyone could take turns guessing who killed the redhead for continuously putting his hand on Hallie’s arm. They’d eventually figure out it was Julian, or would perhaps take one look at his face and know straight off the bat.
God, he did not like the way they were laughing together. The way they sort of matched each other step for step, two very alike people on the same mission. Tame the maniacs who were currently blowing like miniature cyclones through the event, chocolate and sprinkles smeared across their chins and cheeks. The people sipping wine in front of the Vos table were complaining about the shoddy childcare—and he liked that criticism of Hallie even less than the sight of Owen staring at her curls as if eternally fascinated by their shape.
Actually, scratch that. He didn’t like it less.
He simply liked none of this. Whatsoever.
Having her so close, looking so fucking beautiful, and feeling as if he wasn’t allowed to speak with her. Had their last encounter been so bad that they weren’t even on speaking terms anymore?
Her halting laugh reached Julian, and a tug started behind his collar. He’d missed that laugh. Had it really only been two days? Was he just supposed to never hear it again, even if embarking on any sort of relationship together would end in disaster?
No. That didn’t work for him.
Julian didn’t realize he was walking toward the emcee booth in the corner of the tent until he arrived there and held out his hand. “May I borrow the microphone for a moment?”
The emcee juggled the mike, clearly caught off guard by Julian’s abrupt approach. He was thrown off, as well. What the hell was he doing?
Joining the fray. Just because she’s there.
Refusing to question that disconcerting certainty, Julian raised the microphone to his mouth. “If I might have your attention, please?” He couldn’t see anything but Hallie’s blond head popping up from the floor, where she’d been trying to coax a crying child out from under a table—with more sugar, for the love of God. “I’m beginning children’s story time now out on the lawn.” He checked his watch automatically to register the time. “Please send them outside now. Pick them up at eight oh five. Thank you.”
“Are we sure CBD doesn’t get people at least buzzed?” Natalie asked as he passed. “I could have sworn you just said you were conducting a children’s story time.”
A bead of sweat trickled down his spine. “I did say that.”
“Why?” she said, visibly astonished.
Julian started to brush off the question or give an unsatisfactory answer, such as, “I don’t know,” but he didn’t want to take a step backward with Natalie. They’d formed a tenuous bond tonight. If he’d learned anything in that brief window of time, it was that having a relationship with his sister meant sharing potentially embarrassing things with her. “It’s because of a woman.”
Natalie’s mouth dropped open. “Another woman?”
Jesus, when she said it like that, it sounded awful. “Well, yes. But . . .”
There was simply no way to explain that he’d cast the net of his interest in Hallie so far and wide that it had swallowed up his secret admirer. He’d wished them to be one and the same. Now they were inseparable entities.