Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“I don’t think men care about that, as long as they’re with an enthusiastic partner. Besides, who better to show you the ropes than the three hottest men in the country?”
I let the idea of them showing me the ropes settle in for a while, and I like it. They’ve been thoughtful today and patient with my hangover, and maybe that kind of care will spill over into the bedroom.
Maybe I’ll be a quick learner. I know anything I do with them will be a million times more exciting than accounting.
The salesperson encourages us to model our clothing for the men, which is yet another surreal experience. The brothers’ eyes seem to eat me up, no matter which outfit I have on.
At one point, I’m standing in front of the three-way mirror in a short skirt and sheer black top when Conal comes up behind me, sliding his hand over my hip before gently squeezing one of my ass cheeks, making it jiggle as he keeps hold of it.
“Everything looks good on you.” His voice is a low growl near my ear.
When I look up to thank him, he steals a quick kiss. “Sorry, babe. Can’t help myself.”
When I look back at the mirror, my eyes go to the white bra that’s glaringly obvious beneath the shirt. “Maybe I can have my mom send some of my things to me. Underwear and casual clothes for around the house.”
“No need for that. I’d enjoy buying underwear for you, or better yet, seeing you go without any.” He winks at me before stepping back to join his brothers, and I try to keep my knees from shaking when I walk back into the changing stall.
The Currans purchase everything I tried on that fit, which was most of it, and they buy a skirt, blouse, and evening bag for Bliss, who looks like she won the lottery, though she tries to play it cool.
We only go to one other store, one known for athleisure, and we leave with two big shopping bags filled with comfortable pants, shirts, hoodies, and more. By that point, it’s time for Bliss to get on the road, so the limo takes us back to the hotel, where I help her collect her things.
“I’m sorry I’m leaving you to drive home alone,” I tell her as she and I wait for her car. The Pythons’ security team drove it over to this hotel last night for her, and the valet is retrieving it from the garage.
“I’ll miss you, but I couldn’t be happier that you’re not coming with me.” She gives me a smile so broad it makes her eyes squeeze shut, and I try to soak up some of her excitement, because now that she’s leaving, my nerves are returning in a big way.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I ask, though it’s me I’m also worried about.
Her car approaches, and she pulls me into a hug. “Hazel, those men are wild about you. Relax and enjoy every minute.”
I hug her back, then reluctantly let her go, putting on a smile braver than I feel. I am excited, and I’m happy about my situation, but there’s so much that’s unknown. I thought graduating from college was going to bring big life changes, but I never imagined anything like this.
“Keep in touch,” she tells me, as two steadfast Pythons security guys load her luggage into her car.
I wave at her until she drives out of sight, then follow my escorts back up to our suite, where Conal is waiting for me with open arms.
HAZEL
“Welcome back, Mrs. Curran.” The title delivers a jolt, and Conal notices, because he immediately pulls back from an embrace to look at my face. “You’ll take our name, won’t you?” It’s another huge thing that I somehow haven’t even thought about yet.
“You liked it last night,” Rafe says from across the room.
Bron chuckles. “Screamed it a couple of times, actually. I’m Mrs. Curran!”
“I did? Oh god, I don’t remember doing that.”
“I liked it,” Conal says, “and I’d really like you to be Mrs. Hazel Curran, but if that’s not your style, I get it.”
“Fuck the patriarchy!” Rafe pumps a fist in the air, and I can’t tell if he’s being sincere or ironic.
“I’d be happy to take your name. I guess I’m still coming out of the fog from last night.”
“No more memories coming back?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Not really.”
He brushes hair back from my cheek and tucks a couple of strands behind my ear. “And how are you feeling?”
“I feel pretty good, actually.” I think there’s been adrenaline pumping through me ever since I woke up this morning, and it’s probably helping me recover from the hangover more quickly than I otherwise would have.
“I wish we could whisk you off on the honeymoon you deserve,” Conal says, “but unfortunately we have work scheduled. Other people are involved, and postponing it would cause problems.”