Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“So you’re just going to show up?”
“Yeah. And see what happens.”
“What if she shows up with another man?” she asks.
“Great. That’ll only help my case.”
She pulls her brows together, amused.
“Come on, Carys.” I roll my eyes. “Do you really think he’ll be better looking than me?”
“I wish I could say no.” Her sigh turns into a chuckle. “You better call me afterward. I’m riveted.”
“Of course, I will. But it probably won’t be until morning because we’ll likely spend the night up here.” I flip the camera again. “Now, what do I wear? I need to come across … multifaceted. I need to be someone she wants to talk to, but also someone she wants to fuck. I need her to obsess over me like women usually do. Got it?”
She hums as she considers my options. “Okay, no jeans. That’s far too casual for the location.”
“Agreed.”
“Don’t do the black pants. That whole ensemble you’ve put together is a no. I mean, I love it, but it’s just not what you want tonight. It screams stuffy businessman and missionary sex.”
“We sure as hell don’t want that.”
“Ooh, I do love you in blue. Get closer to that blazer on top. Is that blue or green? It’s hard to tell under the lighting.”
I lower the phone. “It’s a dark blue.”
“Do that. Pair it with the pants lying under it, and … do you have any white T-shirts? The nice ones from Halcyon. Not the ones you work out in.”
“Yup.” I go to the closet and pull out the shirt in question. “I brought one.”
“Yes. Love it. Do that shirt and those pants. Pop a pocket square on the blazer for a little playfulness. I’m assuming you have a belt. And wear your white sneakers, not your dress shoes. That will help it make you look like you tried, but not too much.”
“Perfect.”
“Great. Do you have anything else I can help you with? Or can I go back to my life over here?”
I return to the main room, pick up the towel from my shower, tidy up the desk, and straighten the chairs by the windows. My computer is on the desk, and I consider putting it away, but ultimately decide to let it stay. It can’t hurt for her to see that I’m a professional.
The thought of having Kelly alone in my room makes my skin feel itchy, as if it's too tight for my body. Women don’t get under my skin like this. I’m Tate fucking Brewer.
Whatever happened today was a bit of a role reversal, but I’m too intrigued by her to care.
“I do have one more thing I need your help with,” I say, hanging the towel on a hook in the bathroom. “What flavors do candles come in?”
“What?”
“Don’t overthink it. Just give me a few of your favorite candle smells.”
She laughs. “My favorite candle scents? You’re asking me for my favorite candle scents? What’s happening right now?”
“I’m trying to arm myself with information.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and turn my camera around to look at my best friend. Her brows are pulled together, but she’s grinning because she knows me better than anyone. In all the years we’ve known each other, I've never asked her about candles. I’ve never given two thoughts about them. The fact that I’m asking—that I want to be able to talk about the things Kelly mentioned she likes—isn’t lost on Carys.
Or me. But there’s no time to dig too deeply into that.
“What’s happening, Tate?” she asks.
“I don’t know. I met this woman on the plane.”
Carys grins.
“She’s the whole package. She’s beautiful. Sexy. Funny. She has this …”
It’s more than her sinful body and sweet smile. It’s not just her laugh that I can still hear ringing in my ears. I wanted to pull her onto my lap when she touched me.
It’s the crazy mix of confidence in her language and vulnerability in her eyes that has me unable to stop thinking about her. And I don’t know how to explain that without freaking Carys out. If I said that to her, she’d probably call an ambulance.
“Vanilla is popular,” she says softly. “If you want something more manly, you could say you like anything with amber.”
“Do I like anything with amber?”
She laughs. “Yes. Your colognes have it.”
“Got it. I like amber and vanilla.” I stretch my neck back and forth. “I just need some talking points, you know? I want to talk about things she likes, and she mentioned candles. Oh—and romance books. Got any of those for me?”
“Sure do. My current favorite is Love Hurts by Mandi Beck. Gannon and I read it to each other some nights.”
“Love Hurts by Mandi Deck?”
“Beck. Mandi Beck.”
“Love Hurts by Mandi Beck.” I close my eyes and repeat it, hoping it sticks in my brain. “Okay, I think that’s all I need … for now, anyway.”