Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“Daff, you go over these rules every time we come here. I think we all get it by now,” a drop-dead gorgeous mixed-race woman with sleek black hair retorted, raising her voice to be heard over the noise of the pub.
“Do you, Charity?” Daff responded tartly. “Do you really? Because we all remember the time I caught you snogging Miles in front of the ladies’ restroom.”
“A lapse,” Charity said with an airy wave of her hand. “And I’ve already apologized for breaking one of your sacrosanct ladies’ night rules. I don’t see why we have to keep rehashing my momentary weakness. The man looks great in jeans. I couldn’t help myself.”
“The rules bear repeating,” Daffodil insisted primly. “Especially since we have a new member in our midst.”
She pointed at Kenny, who flushed uncomfortably.
“I won’t talk to them,” she promised. “I barely know any of them.”
Well, that wasn’t strictly true. But the one she did know would be spending the evening studiously ignoring her. And vice versa.
She eyed the group of tall, good-looking guys again. There was an inordinate amount of attractive people in this town. Was there something in the water here? There were—as far as she knew, thanks to Tina’s gossipy intel at the start of the evening—two sets of brothers in the group. Tina’s own husband, Harris, was a twin.
The shared DNA among some of them explained the good looks, but the remaining two men in the group were also very attractive.
And then there was the seventh.
Smith.
She hadn’t expected to see him here tonight. But of course, if all his friends were here, it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to stay away just because Kenny happened to be here too.
Why hadn’t he told her that he’d be here tonight? They’d agreed to communicate these matters to each other just that morning and he’d fallen down at the first hurdle.
But, as Daffodil Carlisle had just made clear, the men and women were on separate outings this evening. Ralphie’s just happened to be the only spot in town that could accommodate both ladies’ and boys’ nights out.
When Kenny questioned the practicality of having both events on the same night of the week, they’d all stared at her in horror and protested that two separate outings meant too much time apart.
Right.
Now that despotic Daff was certain that everybody understood and would follow the rules, she took everybody’s drink orders and gathered up her sisters, Daisy and Lia, to head for the bar.
“They only have three cocktails on the menu,” Kenny pointed out to Tina, shouting to be heard above the sound of somebody slaughtering “Living on a Prayer” on the karaoke machine.
Tina laughed.
“I know! When I first moved to town, Ralphie didn’t serve cocktails at all. The closest they came was a gin and tonic. But he’s trying to mix things up, bless. And this cocktails and karaoke thing has really taken off for him. Who knows? We may get another drink added to the menu soon.”
“Thanks for inviting me, Tina,” Kenny said, a swell of emotion catching in her throat and making her voice wobble.
Tina squeezed her hand under the table.
“I’m happy that you’re here, Kenny. I hope Smith’s presence won’t unsettle you too much. I honestly never once considered that he’d be here tonight, which was silly of me. Of course he’d be here.”
“No, don’t worry about that,” Kenny hastened to assure the other woman. “We have an understanding. And we’ll respect each other’s boundaries. It’ll be fine.”
Tina smiled and nodded and squeezed her hand again.
“Okay. Good. I’m happy to hear that. Now let’s get some songs picked so that we can get this party started.”
“Stop staring,” Harris warned, as Smith’s eyes once again drifted to the group of laughing, raucous women in the corner. “Daff catches you staring and you’re a dead man.”
The others all nodded in agreement.
Daff was the skinny brunette with the pretty smile, and shoulder-length dark brown hair. Smith had met her before and had found her quite agreeable.
Nothing to instill this level of fear in anyone.
“She doesn’t look too scary,” he scoffed with a laugh.
Her husband, the biggest, most taciturn bastard in the group, snorted and dusted his cue tip with chalk, before lining up his shot.
The guy didn’t talk much, but that sound was derisive as fuck.
Smith had only met Spencer Carlisle a couple of times before tonight. It was hard to get a read on the man who rarely spoke and seemed to communicate with just grunts and glares. Harris’s twin, Greyson—who could be equally uncommunicative—was good friends with him. Smith was momentarily diverted as he tried to imagine how a conversation would go between the two. He pictured gestures, grunts, and head movements with very few words sprinkled in.
Highly probable scenario, actually.
He shoved the absurd thought from his mind and went back to sneaking peeks at Kenna. She’d been quiet at first. But after her second drink her shoulders had inched down from their initial defensive position up around her ears into a more relaxed posture.