Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“Other than ripping off his clothes?” Abbie chuckles.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Have you seen how handsome he is?”
“I have indeed, which begs the question: Why you won’t just have dinner with him?”
“Because she’s smart,” Charley says.
“I’m smart,” I reiterate. So why did I let him practically seduce me in the restrooms in my work building? I pout. I should be forgiven. What that man can do with his hands.
“You’re fucking dumb.” Abbie sighs. “You’re single. Free. Let a man wine and dine you.”
“It sounds like he wants more than wining and dining,” Charley muses.
My head swings back to her.
“A bit of bodily attention after the wining and dining can’t hurt,” Abbie says.
Back to her.
“Can’t it?”
Back to Charley.
“Definitely not.” Abbie smirks. “I can’t even begin to imagine how boring sex was with Nick.”
I frown, my head turning back to Abbie. “It wasn’t that bad.” Was it?
“But it wasn’t that good.”
“How do you know? I’ve never talked about the sex I’ve had with Nick.”
“Exactly. And yet you were straight on the blower to me after just a bit of hand sex with the mystery hot man.”
A shudder mixes with the guilt. It’s true. Sex with Nick was as predictable—and boring—as my father’s misogyny.
“Did he ever make you come through penetration?” she asks.
“Abbie!” I gasp.
“You’re so uncouth,” Charley grumbles, now getting a little breathless too.
“What about you?” Abbie goes on. “Has Lloyd got the magic moves?”
Charley’s nose goes in the air. “A married couple keeps their private encounters private.”
“Bollocks.” Abbie snorts, laughing. “When you were two bottles deep at my thirtieth, you told me Lloyd likes flicking your bean while you’ve got your finger up his bum.”
I let out a bark of laughter, nearly flying off the end of the treadmill. “Charley,” I cry, giving her wide eyes, steadying myself. Her bright-red face—not through running, it should be noted—tells me she absolutely did say that. “How is that even possible?”
“Sixty-nine,” she grumbles.
“I’m never sharing a bag of crisps with you ever again.”
“I wash my bloody hands.”
“Back to hands!” Abbie sings. “Could you have come?”
My head is swinging back and forth so much, I think I’ve given myself whiplash. “I think I could have,” I admit, reliving the whole amazing experience. “I was a puppet on a string for him.”
“How delightful,” Abbie muses.
“And dangerous,” Charley adds. “Don’t lose yourself. Remember, that’s the whole reason you ended things with Nick.”
“I love how sensible you are.” I reach across and pat her arm. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” Charley looks across to Abbie and sticks her tongue out. “Now, when is our next night out?”
“Still no transaction from Amazonico?” I ask them both, getting a shake of their heads.
“But they said we paid, so we can go back, right?” Charley says.
“I guess so.”
“So when?”
“We’re easy,” I remind our dear friend and mother of two. “So you tell us.”
“Not Saturday,” Abbie says. “I’ve got a full-on morning in the shop and a wedding to sort in the afternoon.”
“And not Sunday. I’ve promised my mum I’ll go make peace with my father. Maybe Friday?”
“Let me run it past the boss,” Charley says.
“We all know who’s boss in the Chaytor household.” Abbie laughs.
“Do you think Arlington Hall will run their special offer again?” she asks. “It was nice, just the three of us.”
“The three of us and the God.”
I smile, trying to keep it to myself. “I have a conference there next week.”
“At Arlington Hall?” Abbie hits the slow button on her treadmill, stepping onto the sides and grabbing her water.
“Yes,” I confirm. “It was supposed to be at the Hilton, but they double-booked.”
“So now the company is dragging everyone out to Oxfordshire?”
“Yeah.”
“Oohhh, take your bikini. You might steal a chance to dip into a steam room and sweat it out with the God again.”
“What are the chances of him being there?” Charley asks.
The thought is annoyingly thrilling. Yes, what are the chances? But still, I saw him first in Oxfordshire and second in London. I’d say the chances of bumping into someone in two separate counties in two days were pretty slim.
Chapter 8
Charley couldn’t wangle a girls’ night on Friday—something about Lloyd being out for a long-planned lads’ night that she totally forgot about, so Abbie and I descended on the Chaytor household with wine and nibbles for the adults, and marshmallows for the kids.
“God please, not too many artificial preservatives at this time of day,” Charley says as she tips a bag of snacks into a bowl, and I entice Elijah over with a rustle of the bumper bag of the squidgy, sugary treats. “They’re hyper enough.”
“Look what Aunty Amelia has,” I coo, smiling at his chubby bare feet stomping across the wooden kitchen floor. I scoop him up when he makes it to me and pop the marshmallow in my mouth, offering him a bite. He giggles and snatches it from between my lips, leaving me with a small piece to chew through. “Say thank you.” He plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek. “Open the wine,” I order Abbie as she puts Ena in her high chair and straps her in.