Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Chapter 7
Graham
It’s go time. I hope Zoe is up for this.
As we approach the house, I reach down and twine her fingers in mine, for appearance sake, because I know curious eyes are watching. And, well, because my fake fiancée looks like she needs it. “I would like to apologize now,” I tell her.
She looks up at me, stricken. “That bad?”
“Sort of,” I answer, honestly.
She stops. “You’re not bringing me here to make me some kind of sex slave are you? I probably should’ve asked that before now.” Panic widens her eyes. “Is that why you flew me here, all Christian Grey-like, so I couldn’t escape? I just wanted you to use my soaps, not punish me.”
“Zoe, god no…” I try to interrupt, but she continues to ramble.
“I’m not calling you Sir, and if I have to chew my way through those wood walls, I will.”
And then I do the only thing I can to stop her freak out, I cup her flushed cheeks with my palms and kiss the fuck out of her. Like a second skin, her curves meld to my body. I didn’t mean to kiss her, well actually that’s a lie, but maybe I don’t mean for it to go on this long. Zoe’s words are long gone from her lips as I kiss away the ache burning inside me.
With one hand in her hair, I finally pull away. “Everyone’s going to love you.” I try to calm her worries, because it’s true, everyone will love her. It’s me that’s in for the earful. “I’ll give you every key to every car and door, if that makes you feel better.”
“I’m sorry,” she says a little breathless, and still clinging to me. “I didn’t mean to freak out.”
I kiss her again, soft and slow, slipping my tongue in her mouth for a taste of sweetness, just because I want to, not because I know people are watching. She breaks the kiss, darting her eyes to the house, and I reluctantly step away.
Now it’s show time. We stroll to the front doors of my parent’s vacation lodge, and I don’t even need to knock before it opens.
“I was about to send out the search party,” my cousin, York, says. His dark eyes scan over Zoe. “But then I saw you trying to be all alpha and shit.”
“Shouldn’t you be chasing a puck or something?”
He grins. “You’re just jealous you’re not a hockey god.” His eyes shift to Zoe. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Graham?”
“This is Zoe. My fiancee.”
“I know you,” Zoe chimes in, looking a lot star struck. “York Steele. You’re the center for the Colorado Blizzard.”
“Hockey fan?” he asks, looking way more interested than he should in my fiancee. I narrow my eyes, listening to Zoe gush stats at him like she’s a sports announcer. What is this madness?
“I can hook you up with tickets to a game,” he tells her, and she looks like he just offered her the moon.
“I can get her tickets.” Hell, I could buy her the team. And maybe I will. I don’t know where this territorial feeling is coming from, York and I are like brothers. I mean, technically, if she were interested in him, she’s free to do so, but there’s no way she’d prefer him over me. If I’m being objective, he’s alright, his dark hair is a bit too long. Women seem to love him, but they love me too.
They continue their chit chat as we step inside.
My mother, dressed like she’s going to a boardroom in designer slacks and pink silk blouse, stands beside a life size nutcracker in the entryway. Her hazel eyes hone in on Zoe.
“Zoe, it’s nice to meet you,” she finally says, walking over to pull me in for a quick hug.
“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Steele.”
“Please, call me Eleanor.” She beckons her staff to fetch our bags and take them to our rooms. “York, why don’t you take Zoe into the kitchen for some refreshments.”
Zoe gives me a wary look, and I smile and let her know I’ll be there soon. When they’re out of earshot, the interrogation begins.
“Why did you bring her here?” my mother asks.
“We’re in love. We’re getting married.” Being with Zoe the past few days, I almost kind of like the lie I’m telling.
“What’s her favorite color?”
I blow out a breath, fuck. “What do you mean?”
“If you’re in love, you’d know her favorite color.”
“Red,” I guess, based on the amount of colors she’s worn in the whole two days I’ve known her. “I should check on her,” I say, abruptly walking out of the foyer and heading into the kitchen.
I spot Zoe standing at the island with York, and that’s when a laugh echoes that makes my skin crawl when I hear the small unmistakeable snort that goes along with it. Trudy Vesterlane.