Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Maybe not the best road to go down.
“Fuck off,” Emmett said, his gaze dancing over my face, but there was a hint of compassion in his tone, too.
My cock perked up at him saying that. Confusing. Very confusing.
“I like you, Fancy Pants,” I said without thinking, my voice coming out low and quiet. “Sure, I hate the idea of you, just as much as you hate me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you, too. You’re good to talk to.”
“Shut up,” he said, but again, his voice held no bite. As he shook his head I could see the slightest hint of a smile on his face.
It felt good, seeing that smile.
“Just be real with me,” I said. “Please? No Mr. Multi-Millionaire bullshit. What is it that you want so badly, Emmett?”
9
EMMETT
I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or run for the hills.
Storm looked better than ever tonight, still in the nice button-up shirt that he’d been wearing earlier today. He’d undone the top few buttons, and the slight amount of chest hair that was showing kept distracting me.
His forearms on the railing of the deck, too, so perfectly chiseled.
“What I want is to do my job well,” I told Storm. “So, again, thank you. For being kind to Tad at the meeting, regardless of whatever you wished you could say to him.”
“I wished I could tell him that his company is the reason people buy a bunch of shit they don’t need, and that the amount of unnecessary pollution caused by companies like his is ruining the world.”
I widened my eyes. “Since when are you an environmentalist?” I asked.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve always been one. I give a million dollars a year, minimum, to environmental charities.”
I whistled. “Want a gold star?” I asked, but honestly, I was pleasantly surprised to hear that.
He shrugged. “No. I just give a fuck about the planet, and I think more people in my position should, too.”
“You’re right about that.”
He shook his head, looking out at the trees. “A guy on the team in Texas called me a nerd once because I talked about giving money to environmental causes. Guys want to act so tough, when in reality, they’re just selfish.”
“Someone gave you shit about that?” I asked. “What an asshole.”
Storm nodded. “He was an asshole. I made a donation of a hundred thousand bucks in his name later that year, just to spite him.”
A laugh bubbled up inside me, and Storm met my gaze, smiling too.
I liked him when he was like this.
“Hey, boys,” Shawn said from behind us, coming out from the bar and giving us a wave. “Nice night out here. Don’t get too crazy on those Shirley Temples, Storm.”
Sawyer, Nathan, and Charlie soon followed after Shawn, and the four of them took a table on the opposite end of the patio, leaving me and Storm to ourselves.
“Anyway,” I said, “thank you for being kind to the guy from Racks, regardless.”
“It was what I wanted to do.”
“Really?”
A little dimpled half-smile appeared on Storm’s face. “I mean, not exactly. But I wanted you to feel okay, and you did look pretty freaked out in that meeting room, so… it was what I wanted to do, for you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
He’d wanted to do something against his own wishes, purely for me? That didn’t sound like the Storm Rosling I knew. But I wasn’t going to complain.
His grey-blue eyes were on me, peering straight through to my soul, as they had the tendency to do.
“God, how do you do that?” I asked, barely aware I was saying it out loud.
“Hmm?”
I cleared my throat.
“Your eyes,” I said. “It’s not fair. They make you seem like a nice guy, when in reality you probably want to toss a dozen eggs on my Porsche, or something.”
He smiled and it only made the skin around his eyes crinkle up even more, hypnotizing me against my will.
“That sounds really fun,” he murmured, “and I do fucking hate Porsches. But I wouldn’t do it to yours. Glad you like my eyes, though. Thanks, Fancy Pants.”
“I never said I liked them. I just said they make you seem nice.”
“So you don’t like them? They don’t have you under my spell?”
“Ugh. Fuck you,” I said, giving him a little shove as a deeply satisfied expression came over his face. He loved it when I told him off.
Even the small amount of touch when I shoved him made me crave more. My own body betraying me again around Storm, wanting things that I wished it didn’t.
“You’re fun when you’re pissed off,” he told me.
“I don’t remember when I approved of you calling me Fancy Pants, either,” I said. “Why are you still over here with me? What do you want?”
“I want to talk about when we kissed.”
I nearly choked on my sip of beer. I stole a glance toward the Fixer Brothers over at their table.