Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Company’s coming,” Knox finally rumbles.
Ralston swings by, not even bothering to hide his smirk. He scans the table like he’s reading a menu, eyes lingering on me and Knox. “Afternoon, everybody.” He throws in a saccharine nod. “Callie, you look radiant.” There’s a coldness in his voice that makes me want to punch him.
I take a sip of my drink and grin. “Wish I could say the same, but that shirt is criminal.”
Wolfe barks out a laugh. Knox just grunts.
Ralston leans in, palms the edge of the table, close enough I can see the little veins in his eyes. “I’ll find you later, Callie. We should catch up about the new arrangements.” He doesn’t wait for a response, just strolls off.
Immediately, the tension at the table breaks. Zane whistles under his breath. “I ever get that rich, I want you all to fuckin’ bury me before I get the chance to turn out like that.”
“Refill?” I ask, pushing to my feet, needing to move.
Three men nod.
Over by the beer tent, the crowd’s thick, but I manage to elbow my way through and wait in the line for my turn. Finally, it comes, and I order. I get the drinks and turn, and nearly slam into someone. I only stop myself just in time, spilling one of the drinks on myself.
“Christ,” I mutter, stepping back. But of course, it isn’t Jesus. It’s Ralston.
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move, even, just stares down the slope of that perfect Roman nose at me.
“Well, your man isn’t even getting you a drink. If I didn’t know better, I would say he would much rather kill you than fuck you.”
My jaw has no intention of grinding down, but I force it anyway. He’s fishing. “He likes a challenge.”
Ralston’s mouth twists. “So I’m to actually believe that man likes you, because as far as I can see, he can’t stand you. If I find out you’re lying to me, Callie...”
“Now you’re just being dramatic,” I say casually, even though my heart is racing.
I turn and walk away.
Just as I reach the table, they are announcing a three-legged race and an idea springs to mind. I shoot my drink back and turn to Knox. “Get up.”
He stares at me, so does everyone else. “What?”
“Get up. Ralston doesn’t believe for a single fucking second that you like me, so you’re going to come in the three-legged race with me.”
Knox looks horrified. “Like fuck.”
“Unless you want me to cause a scene, you’re going to do it. Up you get.”
“Go on, brother,” Talon grins. “Let’s see what you got.”
“Fuck up,” Knox hisses.
“Girl has a point,” Wolfe says, smirking. “Gotta make it look real.”
Knox glares for what feels like an eternity, then much to his horror, gets up. I clap my hands and the guys burst into a chorus of laughter. Mera calls out ‘Get it, Knox’ as we walk away. He’s going to kill me for this, but so be it, I’m not dying because he doesn’t want to go along with the plan.
The three-legged race is a mess of twine and bare knees and children with no mercy. We get paired up by a young woman giggling at Knox, as she ties my right leg to his left, the knot pressing so tight I can feel the pulse in his shin. We line up, elbow to elbow next to a row of actual children and two couples who I’m pretty sure have been married for decades.
“I’m goin’ to fuckin’ kill you for this,” Knox hisses.
“Yes, well, at least it will be you and not Ralston. Smile, he’s watching.”
Adrenaline surges as the whistle blows. The kids beside us take off at an impossible pace, limbs flailing. Knox and I get maybe two steps before we’re yanked sideways by the tie, our knees slamming together in a jolt that rattles every bone in my body. Knox curses under his breath, “You’re not even fuckin’ trying.”
Oh now he’s interested. “Sore loser already?” I shoot back, but our rhythm is so off that I’m barely breathing between words. I can feel the heat of his hand gripping my hip, steadying me, but all it does is make my pulse blur in my ears.
Knox’s jaw is set so hard it could cut glass. He glances at me, then at the finish line, then back at me. “We need to move together,” he growls.
“Oh, like a real couple?” I mutter under my breath, but he ignores me.
On the third try, I match my steps to his, and suddenly we’re moving almost in sync. Almost. A kid barrels into Knox’s side, we lose our balance, and the next thing I know the world is upside down and I land on my back, dirt grinding into my spine, with a whole lot of angry man sprawled on top of me.