Me:luv ya, brother
Dallas:love you to
He uses the wrong spelling of ‘to,’ and I’m tempted to correct him, but instead, I raise the book.
And start from the beginning because I missed so much, all the details, trying to piece together what I don’t know because I never read the books that led to this one. Like this story.
Our heroine, Clara, has snuck off to a cyprian ball (a scandalous, taboo ball where salacious things were rumored to happen and which I had to Google the definition of) with her sister, dressed in a wig and donning a masquerade mask, locking eyes with a handsome stranger (also wearing a mask).
A mask?
“How does she know she’s attracted ta him if he’s wearing a damn mask? He could be ugly as fuck,” I mumble.
I read on.
Clara and the man dance, and he warns her off.
I roll my eyes. “Of course he does. He knows if he tells her not to come back, she’ll come back.”
So predictable.
Clara walks right into his trap and goes back the following night, where things get hot and heavy, and WHOA. They almost bang!
I flip the cover to study it; the pose of the couple on the front—her on the ground looking back up at him, he a strapping blond dude with a ripped chest and ripped muscles, hand across her collarbone.
My dick stirs inside my athletic shorts.
“What are you doing?”
I damn near fall out of the hammock, jerking from the shock of her sudden appearance. “Jesus Christ, would you stop doin’ that?”
I blink against the sun to see Posey standing beside the now swinging hammock, staring down at me.
I think.
Hard to tell with the light behind her. She’s a silhouetted outline of a person from where I’m lying.
“All I asked is what you’re doing.”
I wiggle the book so she can see that I’m, “Readin.”
“I can see that you’re reading.” She leans forward so she can flick her finger over the sexy cover. “Where did you get this?”
“Bookshelf.”
“Of all the books on the bookshelf…” Her hands are on her hips now. “This is the one you chose?”
Is she judging me? “A man can’t enjoy a good romance novel now and again?”
“They can. It’s just not what I would have expected you to read.”
I lay the book down on my chest, irritated that I’m being interrupted after finally getting into the story. The first chapter was fine but dragged on too long, peppered with too much description of meadows and wild grass and shit.
“I thought your little lending library was public. I didn’t realize I was only allowed certain topics.”
I hope she picks up on my sarcasm ’cause I’m laying it down pretty thick.
Posey shifts on her heels. “No, it’s fine. I just…I’msurprisedyou’d pick a romance novel rather than…” She shrugs. “I don’t know. There are some biographies about mafia gangsters and a few biographies by popular comedians.”