Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 103661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
But not enough.
It stays in my head, even after an iced tea, and far too many wardrobe changes.
Finally, I place my last garment on the hanger. A dozen new items. Worth…
God knows what.
I change into my street clothes, finish my last sip of iced tea, step into the main room.
And there he is. Like something out of a dream.
The door swings shut behind Ian.
He stands there in his sleek black suit, his eyes fixed on me, his expression bright with interest.
Addie's jaw drops. She looks to me and mouths holy shit.
"Hi." She stands. Wipes her palm on her skirt—she's also drinking something iced, though it looks like coffee. "You must be Ian."
"I must be." He crosses the room to her. Shakes her hand. "You must be Eve's sister."
She nods. "I am. Addie. And you… are very tall." Her cheeks flush. "Sorry. I've never met one of Eve's boyfriend's before."
He looks to me and raises a brow. Asking if he's okay to run with the term.
No. Maybe. I don't know. What can I say? I'm not explaining the whole arrangement to her. Boyfriend is close. Ish.
I shrug. It's not a lie. Just… not accurate.
"Do you mind if I borrow Eve?" he asks.
"Don't you have a meeting, Mr. Hunt?" Lock asks.
"It ended early." Ian holds out his hand, beckoning me. "If you're still shopping, I won't interrupt. Or if I can't negotiate your permission, Addie."
She giggles, but she still sends me one of those oh my God are we talking about this looks. "How late will you have her out?"
"Not late. I have another meeting. But I might need her tonight." Intention drops into his voice.
Mmm. Yes. Now. Please.
"Will you be coming to the party this weekend?" He turns his attention to her. All his attention. The way he looks at her… he's completely and totally present. "I'm sure Eve would appreciate it."
"Of course. I never miss the chance to swim. I hope it's not one of those pool parties where no one goes in the pool," she says.
"You'll have to tear me away from the water," he says.
Really? I know the UK is an island, but I don't hear much about swimming, surfing, water sports. And he was in the air force, not the navy. But who knows? Maybe Ian swims a mile a day.
Maybe he has plans to fuck me in the pool after everyone leaves.
"As long as you bring her home fed and caffeinated," Addie says. "And not too much to drink if you go out late. She gets hangovers."
"Addie!" My voice drops to a tone I've only heard on friends. That oh my God, Mom, you're embarrassing me.
She smiles. "What? You do. He should know. If he's going to tend to your needs."
Ian returns her smile with something a lot more wicked. "Of course. I wouldn't dream of sending you home wanting."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eve
Addie texts the second I'm out of the store.
Not the oh my God, what the heck are you doing I expect from her.
Not even be careful or rich guys make good husbands, make sure he puts a ring on it.
Despite her grandma like worry, she's not practical when it comes to interpersonal affairs. She's a dreamer.
She believes in love and hope and other fairy tales. Like our father shaking off his drug addiction and helping out.
Addie: Are you going to explain why you suddenly have a rich boyfriend who's twice your age?
"Would you rather talk to her?" Ian presses his palm into my lower back. That soft pressure. Just enough my crop top skims my skin. Makes me aware of the warm air.
No more heat wave. Normal June. A grey sky holding in the humidity.
It's sticky and warm, but it's not hot. With a light breeze, the air is more comforting than stuffy.
Then his fingers skim the waistband of my shorts and the entire universe is hot.
I forget what I mean to say to Addie. Why I'm holding my phone. Why I'm standing on a street in the Village in front of a sleek limo.
There's really a limo.
Does that mean he…
We…
Ahem.
"You can." His voice is that same even, calm tone. He's not bothered by my desire to talk to my sister. "She's right there." He motions to the store. "If you don't want to be here…" He shrugs your loss, but there's something in his eyes.
He needs me too.
Not a conventional need like food, water, oxygen. Something deeper and baser. Not what I need to live, but what I need to feel alive.
Usually, I try to skirt those concerns. I do the best I can with what I have. But now I have everything and I can do anything.
And the only thing I want is his hands on my skin.
"You should have warned me." I step forward, breaking our touch, bringing my thoughts into focus. "I didn't explain our situation."