Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Will be thinking of you on the road.
Carter
Do-over? At this point, I’m really on the fence about this man. On the surface, he’s hotter than hot. He’s every girl’s wet dream. But I just don’t see him and me working out. Mostly, I’m unsure I can handle the entire package that is Carter Strike. Keyword being package. Yes, him and his sticky balls.
Strange, with all his traveling, when does he find time to do his online show? Does he do it in the airport bathroom? Hotel? Did he film right here in my house while I was asleep? I didn’t pay for the full subscription, but it seemed like he had a lot of content that gets livestreamed several times a week. He has to be doing it somewhere.
Suddenly, I realize that it doesn’t matter because my stomach is telling me Carter was an experiment gone wrong. I won’t be seeing him again.
I go to my front door to check that my car is actually here. It is. I release a sigh of relief, but something catches my eye.
I walk outside for a closer look. The bumper and hood are crushed in one corner.
“What the fuck?” He just left and didn’t say anything? Dude! It’s not like I have the money to pay the thousand-dollar deductible. Not to mention, my insurance will go up after I submit the claim.
I storm back inside to grab my phone. When I pick it up, I notice there’s an alert from my bank. “Overdrawn?”
I open up my bank app and check my account.
I see charges for the Health Barn, Target, some sporting goods store, and a florist. “An airline ticket!” I yell. “Two thousand dollars?”
I’m going to murder this guy. Murder him! He bought me flowers with my own money. He bought those groceries and that blender with my money. And he fucked up my car!
I’m about to call my bank to file fraud charges because there has to be something they can do, right? The guy literally took my card and used it without my permission.
My doorbell rings, and I look toward my front door, which is still open. Standing there is Carter in a navy-blue suit and blue striped tie.
“Oh, you sonofabitch! Did you buy that suit with my money, too?” I yell, stomping toward him.
Carter steps back as I approach.
“What the fuck, Carter?”
“I’m not Carter,” he says quickly. “I’m his brother, Logan. I’m actually looking for him.”
I feel like the floor falls out from under me. Carter has a twin? An identical twin?
Oh, great. There are two of them.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Carter has a history of doing selfish stuff like this,” Logan explains, sitting on my sofa. “Great coffee, by the way.” He raises the neon floral mug I bought at a thrift store.
Selfish? Selfish is taking the last slice of cake at a birthday party. And it’s not your birthday. Selfish is denying your assistant a vacation so you can go on ten vacations. Selfish is having sex and hopping from bed right after your big moment while the other person is still working on it.
“Selfish isn’t the word I’d use for stealing money from someone,” I’d say.
“I promise I’ll cover the damage—auto and otherwise.”
“That’s really nice of you, Logan, but don’t you think Carter should be held accountable?”
“Won’t do any good. Carter has never been one to conform to societal norms, including his definition of responsibility. He’s always marched to his own beat.”
I sneer. I don’t want to get into it with Logan, but I think Carter’s behavior was inexcusable. I know plenty of solo marchers, and they’re not swindling dicks!
Logan continues, “I’ll make sure you’re reimbursed for every cent, but in the future, you might want to think twice about loaning him your car.” He pauses. “Or letting him in your home.”
“So he is crazy.” I should’ve known. My mind serves up all the red flags on a silver mind-platter. He’s hot and still single. He carries around coconuts in his bag. He asked me to pick him up from the airport and then invited himself to stay at my house. He criticized my plan to buy this house. He eats local, but then wants to only dine on vegan, carb-free protein when he lands in the US. Also, he puts food on his balls for money.
Wait. Unless… Is Logan Mr. Sticky Nuts?
No. No way. He seems too put together and mature. Also, Carter is the nutjob. It has to be him.
“Carter isn’t crazy. He’s a free spirit,” Logan corrects.
“So what are you, his fixer? Do you just go around repaying all the people he screws over?”
“If I did that, I’d be broke, living in a cardboard box.” He sips his coffee, and my eyes fix on his sensually plump lips. Is it my imagination, or is Logan way sexier than Carter ever was? There’s just something about a confident, down-to-business man.