Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 63970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Jared looked back and sure enough, Sarah had her eyes on him.
“I think Chase there hacked into the T-shirt place and replaced my perfectly spelled design with this one,” Tag shot back. “Bud, kill.”
Bud’s head came up but he merely started wagging his tail as the man named Chase knelt down in front of him. Bud popped up and started enthusiastically licking the man.
“Yep, you got a killer here, Tag,” he said, petting the massive mutt.
“I know where his tongue has been. Don’t think death is off the table yet,” Tag replied. “And I like the shirt. It’s awesome.”
Sarah was still watching. Him. Maybe it was time to give her a little of what he knew she liked. He might have been eating a few more carbs, but he still looked good. He tugged at the back of his shirt and eased it over his head. The athletic pants he wore rode low on his hips, showing off the notches he’d worked so hard for. He stretched—after all he was about to perform athletic feats of getting his ass kicked, so he should stretch.
Sarah’s eyes had gone wide, and even from where he was standing he could see the way she bit her bottom lip.
He still had it.
“Ian, I didn’t have Chase screw up your shirts,” Julian said with a chuckle. “I have my own secret weapon. I certainly don’t need to misspell the name of your club.”
“Chase did it all on his own,” Ian accused.
“I did it.” Adam Miles stepped up, his hands on his hips. “And the rest of them are spelled correctly. Just yours is fucked up.”
The world seemed to still as though two long-term adversaries had finally met on the field of battle and war was about to rage.
Then Ian threw his head back and his laugh boomed across the field. “Oh, that’s awesome, man. Adam, this is a classic prank. Seriously, somebody get me a sharpie. I love this so much fucking much.”
Someone handed Big Tag a black pen and he quickly added and “i” so the shirt read—SAiNTCUM.
“Now I’m Saint Cum, and we know it’s true because Charlie’s knocked up again,” Ian said with a big grin.
Adam simply shook his head, his shoulders slumping. “Last week I sent him a giant chocolate dick with a card that said ‘eat a dick.’ Do you know what he did?”
“It was chocolate,” Ian replied. “It was delicious. Next time, make sure to fill it with cream so it kind of shoots out the head. It’s okay. You’ll get there, buddy.”
Charlotte slapped her husband’s arm. “You have to give him something, Ian.”
Big Tag shrugged. “I told him it was an awesome prank. Baby, it’s not my fault I genuinely love pranks and they’re cool. He’s the one who leaves his goat right in the middle of the lawn with a big old sign that says ‘please get me.’”
Julian Lodge simply chuckled. “He should know you aren’t one to be embarrassed. Chase, that dog likely licks his own ass. Aren’t you supposed to be a germaphobe? Let’s go and get this started. I want to get to the fun part of the day. Ah, my surprise is here. This, Mr. Miles, is how you get Taggart’s goat to come out and play.”
A thudding sound came from above and then all eyes were on the helicopter descending in the middle of the park.
He looked at Tag and sure enough, his face was turning a nice shade of red. “I thought there was a storm in Colorado.”
Julian shrugged, an elegant motion. “Where there’s a will, there’s always a way. Gentlemen, meet our quarterback for this game. Hello, Trevor!”
A man hopped out of the chopper, slinging his bag over one broad shoulder.
“Is that who I think it is?” Jared couldn’t stop staring.
Big Tag practically seethed. “Trevor McNamara. He used to play in the pros and now he gets his balls kicked by cattle and he’s supposed to be in Colorado.”
The chopper took off again, having deposited its cargo. The former pro was dressed to play in sweats and a T-shirt. “Sorry I’m late.”
“I’m sorry you’re here,” Tag shot back.
“He’s sorry that his secret weapon isn’t as good as my secret weapon,” Julian said with a smooth smile. “Mr. Johns, it’s lovely to meet you. Please know you’re welcome at The Club anytime. Ian, see you on the field. Well, my men will. And Mistress Katherine. I would be careful of her if I was you.”
“Yeah, well Erin will take her out,” Tag promised.
“No, she won’t,” Theo yelled back. “Erin’s pregnant, too.”
“Damn it. Our sperm curses us every time.” Tag shook his head. “I still stand behind this shirt!”
McNamara strode up and held out a hand. “Hello. Julian told me you would be here. You’re the actor, right?”
How did he answer that question now? He was and he wasn’t. He was now, probably wasn’t in the future. “I’m Jared.”