Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 81584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
That was enough.
Pulling my earbuds out of my pocket, I popped them into my ears. I didn’t bother with music. The noise canceling was all I needed. Eventually Brody wandered away.
It was hard to admit I was curious about this guy Frankie was spending time with. She’d said they worked together, and I was pretty sure she worked for some big contractor. If he was clean like the boys said, he must be one of the suits. I couldn’t picture it.
Frankie was wild. She could keep up drinking with the boys, was up for any dare they dished out, swore like a trucker most of the time, and generally raised hell wherever she went. She was a trip. How the hell had she ended up with some clean-cut suit?
I tried focusing on the wiring I was threading through the dash, but I my thoughts kept straying to her. I’d never seen the softer side of Frankie until we’d hooked up. I’d considered it an anomaly until I’d helped her make her bed, and I’d noticed the same thing. When it was just Francesca and me, she was different. Softer. She still had a mouth on her and attitude to spare, but it was different somehow.
Leaning back in the seat, I gave up trying to focus and thought about that first night. She’d been dancing and joking with the boys and being a menace, and I’d been fucking gone for her. The way she moved, the way she laughed, those little jean shorts that hung on her hips until she leaned over the bar, and they pulled tight over her ass, the dark hair that fell down her back in messy waves and curls, she was a goddamn wet dream.
I got laid plenty. I’d been casually dating Emma for over a year. She was a real estate agent who worked odd hours and was usually up for hanging out when I had the time. It was a comfortable thing, and the sex was great, but it wasn’t going anywhere, and we’d never been exclusive. She liked having someone to call when she was bored, but I didn’t think she cared beyond that, which was perfect. If she’d started making any kind of demands, we would’ve been done within a month. I liked Emma fine, but we came from backgrounds too different to ever make the situation permanent. Plus, she was a bitch and not in the way that was entertaining.
I’d never had a hard time finding someone to take home, good genes made that part easy. I just hadn’t ever found someone I’d want to tie myself to. Being surrounded by incredible women my entire life had left me a bit jaded. I loved women, the way they moved and smelled and thought, but I was picky. If I didn’t want to bring one home to meet my mother, then she wasn’t it.
“You takin’ a nap?” my dad asked, startling the shit out of me.
“Fuck,” I barked, spinning to face him.
“Jumpy?” he asked with a laugh.
“I wasn’t payin’ attention.”
“Saw that. What’s goin’ on?”
“How’d you know Mom was it for you?”
Dad jerked back. “You got a woman?”
“Nope.”
He looked at me closely. “Uh-huh.”
“I don’t.”
“Right. Feels like I always knew, but if I had to pinpoint it, maybe it was when she took one look at this ugly mug and told me to stop bein’ a pussy, that the scar wasn’t that bad.”
I let out a choked laugh. Long before I was born my dad had been shot, and the scar bisected his face. I didn’t even notice it because it had always been there, but to say that it wasn’t that bad was not at all true. People had stared at him my entire life. He’d always had women throwing themselves at him, too, though, so maybe it was subjective.
“You’ll know,” my dad said, leaning against the car door. “When you don’t want to be without her. Not just physically. If you can’t imagine a future without her in it? That’s it.”
“Good to know.”
“You sure you got nothin’ to tell me?”
“Nothin’ to report,” I confirmed, climbing out of the car. The day was almost over, and I doubted I’d get much done anyway.
“If you want to settle down with someone, you better start lookin’,” Dad advised as we headed for the clubhouse. “You’re getting’ old as fuck.”
I laughed. “You sound like Ma.”
“She’s losin’ patience,” he joked, pulling out a cigarette.
“Thought she made you quit?”
“I don’t smoke at the house. Everywhere else is fair game.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.”
“Mind your own business,” he grumbled. “Your sister’s comin’ to dinner tonight if you wanna eat with us.”
“Harper’s in town?” My little sister traveled something like three hundred days of the year. Trying to pin her down was damn near impossible.
“For a week.” Dad nodded. “Practically a fuckin’ vacation.”