Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“What I want to know—not to get in the middle of a decades-long feud apparently—is who the hell puts the letter x in a Boggle game for kids?” Madison said.
“That’s a fair question,” Noah said. “I wasn’t there to witness the legendary Boggle incident. I did chip in on the bike for Leo’s Little Brother because Leo thought the kid was robbed.”
“I’m an electrician,” Leo said, “Word games are not exactly my strong suit. I can spell and everything, but I hated for the little guy to lose out on a new bike because he was saddled with me instead of Mr. University here.”
We all laughed so hard that we never got around to playing a board game. It was late. We’d finished the wine. I had an early conference call at work, so I broke up the party and said good night.
Leo produced a duffel bag and announced he wasn’t going to miss out on everything by being the only one not bunking in my loft. We all had a good laugh, and I told him to use the room he sometimes crashed in. He said he’d get an early start as well since the oven delivery was in the morning.
Madison hugged each of us in turn and giggled, “I feel like Snow White kissing the seven dwarves good night.”
“Thanks,” Noah said wryly, “nothing makes me feel like an alpha male like being compared to an animated bald midget.”
“Good night Grumpy,” Madison said.
17
LEO
It was getting late. I stopped by Madison’s room and knocked on the door. She called out for me to come in. When I opened the door to one of Ethan’s predictably beautiful guest rooms, Madison was putting stuff from a bag into the nightstand drawers.
“I just wanted to let you know that delivery was supposed to be at eight, first thing on the docket, but I got a text the oven won’t be there till nine-thirty,” I said. I rubbed the back of my neck and grinned at her. “I know it’s a delay, but we’ll get the installation done as quickly as possible. And if you’re interested, I’m going to the farmhouse this weekend to do a little work and I’d love it if you’d go with me. I want to show you an old place and what I’m trying to do with it.”
“I’d love that,” she said.
“It’s good to see you settling in. I’m glad you came here to stay till all this crap with Noah’s ex dies down.”
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Isn’t it bad luck to say ‘dies’ when one of us is being stalked by a literal psycho?”
“I don't know if she’s a psycho. I’d just call her a weirdo at this point.”
“Because she’s stalking your brother or because she decided to stalk him instead of you?” Madison quipped.
“If she’d met me first, I’m sure I would’ve been her number one target,” I preened, joking around with her. “But it’s a serious situation and I’ll deny it if you tell him I said so, Ethan’s right. He’s in a safer neighborhood and it’s a security building. It’s the smart thing to do.”
“Well, he did say he’s the brains of this outfit,” Madison said.
“I know you’re joking but he probably did say that, or he would,” I said with a grin. “I think the three of us would agree that if Ethan’s the brains, Noah’s the heart and that makes me—”
“The loudmouth?” she teased.
“The body,” I said, “Isn’t it obvious?”
She made a show of looking me up and down and giving a comical shrug, “I guess you’re okay.” The mischief in her eyes made me want to laugh, but I rolled my eyes.
“Okay? Then I guess I’ll have to show you exhibit A,” I said.
“If exhibit A is your dick, I’m going to be really annoyed. I once went out with a lawyer who offered to show me his briefs and thought that was cheesy. But, exhibit A? In your line of work, shouldn’t it be showing me the fuse box or something?”
I reached back and grabbed my shirt, dragged it over my head to let her check out the eight-pack of which I was so proud.
“Whoa,” she said, her voice low. “You really spend a lot of time at the gym. Do you have time to show me this or should you be lifting something or doing sit-ups?”
“I don’t do sit-ups. The plank is more effective.”
“How long have you been like this?” She breathed.
“You make it sound like I have a disease or I’m a mutant or something.”
“You might, I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like this in real life. I thought they used CGI in the movies when Wolverine and Thor were this ripped. I take it back. It’s obvious. You’re the body,” she muttered, distracted, with her fingers hovering near my abs. Her eyes flicked up to mine and there were spots of pink on her cheeks.