Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
His chest and neck were streaked with red, and I noticed his hands shaking too. He was wrecked from the simple act of sucking me off.
As if it had been simple.
We needed a joke to break the tension because it was either that or blurt that I was pretty sure I was in love with him.
Way to keep your summer fling casual, Flynn Honeycutt, you giant fraud.
“I like your method of meditation breathing more than my mom’s,” I said lightly, patting him on the shoulder before stepping around him and heading toward the bathroom. When I got to the cool tiles of the bathroom, I turned to look back at him. His grin was almost enough to make my knees wobble again. “Get your ass in here, and let me scrub it. I have plans for it later.”
He made quick work of pulling off the rest of his clothes and joining me in the shower, where both of us happily acted like everything was fine and this was simply a summer fling.
We were a pair of lying liars.
“You seemed upset that your parents were leaving town,” JT said later at dinner. The candlelight made him even more attractive, which didn’t seem fair to me. His skin glowed, and his eyes shone. The table was in a premium spot, nestled in the corner between two huge picture windows with a view of the water. The clinking of silverware and glasses gave the restaurant enough background noise to lend a sense of privacy to our conversation. “Wait. Is that a stressful topic?”
“Nah. I’m used to it. They’re always off someplace,” I said. “I just wish…” I bit my lip to stop myself from turning into a whiner. It was none of my business where my parents traveled. Or when.
“Don’t do that. Don’t censor yourself with me,” he said softly. “I want to know how you really feel. I get the sense you don’t complain very often.”
JT’s words surprised me. “Are you kidding? I complain all the time. All I do is complain. I gripe at Alden for gossiping. I complain to Dan about annoying customers at work. I bitch to Castor about Dan fucking up simple things in the Meadery. I even complained to Pop the other night because…” I stopped when I realized I was going to say because you were at the cookout.
JT’s chuckle was easy and relaxed. “You’re doing it again. Censoring yourself. Can’t you see I’m a dead end? Who am I going to tell? My mother? Hardly. My father wouldn’t listen even if I threw scotch on his face while I was confessing murder, as long as the scotch was top-shelf. And my brother Reagan, despite appearances, is actually a pretty upstanding guy. So… talk.”
“I don’t want to ruin our nice time by unloading the salt truck all over my parents.”
JT leaned forward and squeezed my hand on top of the table. “Every dinner is better with a little salt. I’d kick us off by telling you some Patricia stories, but I think that falls under the stressful heading, and I don’t want to break our deal.”
I snorted, then quickly took another sip of my wine and savored it, grateful for the distraction. JT had started to order a bottle of champagne, but he must have seen the panic on my face because he’d quickly changed it to a chardonnay instead. I didn’t need this to be more romantic and special than it already was. We weren’t boyfriends, for god’s sake, and we certainly weren’t celebrating anything.
But if the man wanted to know what was on my mind, I could tell him. At least some of it.
“Fine, then. You’ve been warned.” I set down my glass with a little click. “I’m annoyed and hurt that my parents are leaving the country while I’m working my ass off preparing for Brew Fest, which is in a couple of weeks—”
“Three weeks from Saturday,” JT agreed mildly.
I gave a clipped nod at this reminder that of course he knew exactly when Brew Fest was, and not because I’d mentioned it but because he was no doubt going with Fortress. It was only dumb luck that we hadn’t run into each other there in the past.
I clenched my napkin in my fist below the edge of the table, where he couldn’t see. “Right. Well. I haven’t been able to expand my operation as much as I’d like yet, and I could have really used their help preparing, that’s all. Willow had promised to be here for it, and I counted on her.” I shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s my own fault, really. I shouldn’t have trusted her. She always does this.”
I took another sip of the wine, pointedly not looking at him. The crisp chardonnay suddenly tasted bitter in my mouth.