Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
As if sensing my gaze, her stare lifts to mine. Her brows furrow, pretending that she doesn’t know exactly what she does to me. “What?” she questions, pure innocence in her velvety tone.
I shake my head and look away, not wanting to draw attention, but as I focus on the table and the people around me, it becomes clear that I’m not the only one who’s noticed just how fucking delicious Harper looks tonight.
Elias shamelessly stares at her, his gaze roaming over her tits and exposed waist, and as my grip tightens on my fork, bending the metal, Mae glances up. She looks at her husband, putting on the smile of a perfect doting wife, but it falters a moment later, realizing what—or who—has his undivided attention.
Her gaze flicks between Harper and Elias a few times, panic rising in her stare as Harper minds her own business, completely unaware of the tension growing around the table.
“Harper, sweetheart,” Mae says in a fake, condescending tone. “It’s getting quite breezy with the windows open. Why don’t you pop your jacket back on? I wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”
Harper lifts her head and glances back at the windows as if just realizing they were open. “Oh, I’m fine,” she says with a slight shrug. “I’m not cold.”
“Harper,” Mae says, her tone shifting and taking Harper by surprise. “Jacket. Now please.”
Harper gapes at her mother as silence falls around the table, eyes beginning to shift, waiting for some kind of showdown. “What’s the big deal?” Harper questions. “I’m not cold. I don’t need a jacket, hence why I took it off.”
“Look around you,” Mae seethes while trying to keep the polite smile on her face at the same time she scolds her grown daughter like a delinquent child. “Your outfit is inappropriate. You are at a dinner party, and you come wearing nothing but a sports bra. You’re making everybody uncomfortable.”
Harper’s gaze drops straight down to her top, her brows creasing with confusion, and honestly, same. There’s not a damn thing wrong with her outfit. She looks fucking divine. “What are you talking about?” Harper questions, looking back at her mother’s scolding glare. “This is a designer shirt. Part of the Izabelle Grace summer collection. I would hardly call it a sports bra. I thought you would actually like it.”
Mae scoffs. “I have every piece of that collection, and I can assure you, such a profound, up-and-coming designer would never include such a trampy piece.”
“Really?” Harper grunts, making it damn clear that Mae has no idea that the elusive Izabelle Grace is the one and only Izzy who is currently shitting up the walls of her apartment with explosive diarrhea.
“Yes, now please have just a little respect and put your jacket back on. This is a dinner party for God’s sake, and had you attempted to answer even one of my phone calls, you would have known that tonight’s event was business casual.”
“Business casual?” Harper scoffs. “It’s dinner. With family. This isn’t some fancy event that’s going to end up photographed for some bullshit magazine. But if you insist on bitching people out for their choice of attire, then focus on G-I freaking Joe beside me. He looks like he’s about to go commando crawling across the fucking desert. All that’s missing is the sniper rifle across his back.”
“Hey,” I cut in, gaping at the little she-devil beside me. “Don’t bring me into this shit.”
“Lower your voice,” Mae spits. “Knight is dressed appropriately for someone on call. You are half naked at my dinner table. You’re making the children uncomfortable.”
“The children are fine,” Harper scoffs.
With Elias’ gaze still locked on Harper’s tits, Mae lets out a frustrated sigh, slamming her cutlery down on the table. “I have had just about enough of this,” she mutters, her sharp stare shooting straight across the table to Harper. “First you completely ruined my anniversary dinner, and now you’re making a scene again. Do you have any idea how disrespectful you have been? Do you have no shame? No care for my feelings?”
“Ooooh,” Harper laughs, gripping her fork way too tightly, sending a seething glare straight back at Mae. “You do not want to start with me, Mother. Not unless you care for being humiliated all over again—and in front of your grandchildren, no less.”
“Now, now,” Elias says, putting his hands out as if to calm the situation before it can go up in flames, but honestly, I think he’s hoping for it. He enjoys dinner and a show more than anybody, but for appearances, he has no choice but to play the role of the perfect doting husband. I don’t get it though. He could treat Mae like dirt, and she’d still hang onto him like a leech. “There’s no need for this to get out of hand. Harper, please just put your jacket on so we can move past this and have a nice dinner.”