Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
After a terse goodbye, the Hunter brothers walk away. I watch with longing as their broad backs get smaller and further away from me.
Can I slip away and join them after my parents leave?
Yeah, probably not. I don’t know where they’re going now, and we haven’t exchanged numbers or anything. There’s no way for me to find them without doing any creepy stalking.
“The nerve of those boys,” Mom says. I can already tell this is going to be another one of her long tirades. “I can’t believe they dared to ask a respectable young lady out this late.”
“Mom, it’s not that late. And it’s perfectly normal for girls my age to stay out late. It’s the weekend,” I say.
“Not with those boys. I don’t trust them.”
“Your mother’s right. They don’t have the right values.”
I almost roll my eyes, but I stop myself. I don’t want to start an argument on a sidewalk downtown.
“They don’t have any respect for tradition,” Mom says.
Actually, I think it’s nice that their family is so close that the Hunter brothers have no problem putting it before their business.
And just the fact that they run a business together . . . That’s pretty cool, right? Sometimes I wish I had siblings. Maybe that would take my parents’ focus off me once in a while.
“I saw the way they were looking at you,” Dad says. “You need to be careful around them.”
So it wasn’t just my imagination. The Hunter brothers were checking me out.
Hold your horses, I remind myself. Mom and Dad have a tendency to exaggerate and over-react. They were probably just being friendly. Most likely, they have girlfriends back in the city. Probably models.
“That’s right. None of those boys are marriage material. Not like Joseph.” Mom smiles, as though the mere thought of my ex is enough to save the whole night in her eyes. “When are you going to take him back, Ava? That man is a catch.”
I force a smile, although inwardly I sigh. Not this again.
If you like him that much, why don’t you date him? I want to ask my mom that question, but I stop myself before it’s too late.
“We’re not getting back together, Mom.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t know a good thing when you have it.”
Ollie
“Fuck, those geezers have got me all worked up. I want to punch something,” Mason says as he drives his red Porsche like a maniac through the quiet streets of Ashbourne.
“I can’t believe you told them to ‘Google it.’” Liam, who’s sitting in the passenger seat, shakes his head. “Slow down.”
Mason cackles without remorse. He keeps his foot firmly on the gas, maintaining our speed.
As the oldest brother, Liam’s the responsible one who keeps us out of trouble. He’s an excellent lawyer now, and Mason often says he should thank us for training him to spot risks and mitigate them.
Mason’s a little more hot-headed than Liam and me, but I get it. We’re all angry after that encounter.
But I prefer to focus on the positives.
“That Ava, though . . .” I let my voice trail off.
I noticed the way my brothers were staring at her. I could tell they liked what they saw. They know what I’m talking about. I don’t have to explain anything.
“Yeah. Seriously,” Liam says. He doesn’t say much normally, especially when it concerns girls, so just these two words are a lot, coming from him.
“I admit she was worth the trouble of talking to her parents,” Mason says. “I couldn’t not take a closer look at that hotness. I mean, those tits, just peeking out under that lace? And did you get to see that ass?”
“God, yes,” I say.
This is weird, right?
I haven’t met a girl that piques my interest for months. Now I just randomly run into the perfect specimen of the female species in this piddly town, in the middle of nowhere? And our families have been neighbors forever?
What the fuck?
I don’t know what it is about this girl.
She’s pretty, yes. And sexy, too, as Mason’s so helpfully pointed out. But that’s not what draws me to her.
There’s a certain . . . wildness to her. But it’s contained. She looks demure and elegant on the outside—great manners, too—but her eyes . . . there’s an adventurer in there, just yearning to break free.
She’s wearing lace and heels, but she looks like she wants her boots sticky with mud instead, and her sandals wet with salty ocean water. That girl wants to roam.
Just my kind of girl.
Ah, shit. Here I go being all melancholic again. I’ve met this girl once, and I’m already planning Amazonian jungle treks and visits to the wet markets of Southeast Asia.
Okay, I’ll admit it. Like Mason, I sleep around. This dick has seen more than its fair share of pussy.
But my deep, dark secret?