Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“No. It’s not too much at all. What you’ve just told me is that you’re my dream girl,” I say, not an ounce of humor in my tone as my eyes hold hers.
She laughs. It’s a light, airy sound that wraps around me like an embrace. “You think so?”
“Only time will tell.”
“How much time are we talking?”
“Well, you don’t want to go back to your event, and I don’t want to go back to mine. How about we grab fresh drinks and take a walk on the beach?”
“That’s—not what I thought you were going to say.”
“What? You thought I was going to suggest that we go back to my room?”
“Or mine.” She smirks.
“How am I going to know if you’re really my dream girl if we don’t get to know one another?”
“Did Tabby put you up to this?” She narrows her eyes at me.
“Who’s Tabby?”
“The bride.”
I can’t help it. I toss my head back in laughter. “I don’t know Tabby, but I want to know you.” For the first time in my life, a woman has captured my attention, and I’m asking for more of her time.
Chapter Two
Bellamy
Reid insists on paying for our drinks and motions for me to lead the way toward the beach. The oceanside bar of the hotel makes the journey more convenient, and there’s a long stretch of private beach that we get to use for this little late-night stroll of ours.
“So, what brings you to this hotel? Looking for your dream girl?” I ask. His stride matches mine. I try not to think about how sexy his forearms are covered in all those tattoos, or his messy hair that he manages to make look sexy—nope, not thinking about that at all.
He chuckles, and I don’t hate the sound. “A wedding. One of my best friends from college just married his best friend.”
“Did she have twelve bridesmaids?” I ask.
“Just one, her matron of honor.”
“See?” I nod. “She’s got it right. Just close friends and family. Why must so many feel the need to make a spectacle out of everything? I mean, they’re in love, we know that, or they wouldn’t be getting married. Think of what they could have done with all of that money that was wasted on one evening. It should be about the love and the moment, not what it looks like on social media and how many people you can invite.” I huff out a breath as Reid’s soft laughter greets my ears.
“Feel better?” he asks, grinning.
“Marginally.” I stick my tongue out at him, unable to hide my grin.
“I happen to agree with you. More and more, it seems like weddings are for those in attendance, not the couple getting married.”
“This!” I say, turning to face him. “It shouldn’t be about color schemes, cake flavors, and seating charts. It should be about love. Two people sharing their love for one another.”
“I like the way you think, Bellamy.” He leans his shoulder into mine, and my body heats at the contact.
“So, are you from around here?”
“Nah, flew in from out of town. You?”
“Same. I love the ocean, but if I had to choose, I’d choose the mountains any day.”
“The beach is a nice place to visit, but I happen to agree with you. I’ll take the solitude and the cool, fresh air of the mountains.”
“Ocean air can be cool,” I tease.
“Yeah, but come on. There’s nothing like driving up the mountain with your windows down, the shade of the trees, and that cool breeze.”
There’s familiarity in the way he speaks about the mountains. He either visits frequently or he lives close to them. “Hmm, maybe you should write greeting cards for a living,” I joke.
“Nah, I’d be shit at it,” he says, laughing softly.
“Siblings?” I ask. Something about this man compels me to know more about him. It’s not just that. I’m not ready for this night to end, so keeping him talking seems like the best way to make this stroll on the beach last longer.
“Nope. Just me, myself, and I. I always wanted a little brother or sister, but it never happened. I guess my parents figured they got it perfect the first time, so why try again?” He smirks. “What about you?”
“One and only. My parents weren’t around each other enough to have another one. My dad worked all the time, and when he wasn’t away for work, he was working at home. They divorced when I was ten.”
“That’s tough. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Not your fault.” It’s my dad’s fault. He put his career before our family. He’s the one who should be saying he’s sorry. I was young when my parents split, but I don’t remember a time when he apologized.
“I know, but I’m still sorry for you. I know how lucky I was to have both of my parents in my household growing up. It’s something that I want for my future kids, hence the reason I’m still unattached.”