Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
18
Connor
Ipulled into Jeremy’s driveway and parked behind Sabrina’s Civic. She’d said yes to dinner, of course. She’d been thrilled to be asked and thrilled I was ready to admit I was seeing Jeremy every day, a fact she’d apparently known but kept quiet about.
I’d spent most of the day with Jeremy but had gone home to change into something nicer than the clothes I’d worn over there the day before. Sabrina was just getting out of her car when I returned. She was wearing outrageously bright pink pants that fit her generous hips snugly, a floral tank top, and showy yellow heels. I knew she often went for wild colors, but I’d never seen her look so much like a tropical oasis. Was she trying to impress David?
She gave me a bold once-over. “You look yummy.”
“What? I don’t look any different than usual.” I’d put on a pair of dark jeans—the ones I wore when I went out hoping for a hookup—and my shirt was light gray with thin black stripes, one of the few button-ups I owned. My shoulders strained the fabric just a little and the sleeves hugged my biceps. I wanted to show off a little, make Jeremy proud of what he had. I was going to sound like an idiot trying to talk to David and Jeremy with their advanced degrees. David might slam me for being in the closet and think I was a dumb Marine with nothing but a high school diploma, but at least I looked good.
Sabrina narrowed her eyes. “Don’t even try to act like you aren’t trying to impress him. Look at you, all cleaned up.”
I shrugged. “It’s no big deal that I wanted to wear something other than a t-shirt.”
She snorted. “How’d you even get into those pants?”
They were on the tight side. “Magic.”
“I bet.” Sabrina grabbed my arm and tugged. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
“Just a second.” I walked around to the passenger side of my truck and grabbed the assortment of pastries I’d picked up for dessert. I’d insisted on at least bringing something since Jeremy had said he didn’t need any help with dinner.
“You really like him, don’t you?” Sabrina asked as we approached the house.
Fortunately, I was saved from answering by Jeremy opening the door before we knocked. David was right behind him, holding a glass of wine. Great, I was a beer drinker at a wine party.
Jeremy began making introductions. “David, you’ve already met Connor.”
David tilted his head in my direction. “I have.” His tone said he wished he hadn’t.
“And this is Sabrina.”
David brightened and extended his hand, but instead of shaking when Sabrina took it, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Very pleased to meet you.”
I wanted to gag. David certainly wasn’t doing anything to improve my opinion of him.
“Likewise.” Sabrina giggled. She never giggled.
“How do you guys know each other?” David asked, though surely Jeremy had told him.
“Connor and my brother were in the Marines together. When Connor’s tour ended, I offered him a place to stay while he figured out a new direction.”
David gave me an assessing look, probably trying to decide how much of a lazy bum I was.
Sabrina continued. “I needed a second job, since I’m saving for grad school, so I’m working for Connor now.” She beamed at me. “I’m so happy his business has taken off the way it has.” At least she believed in me.
"Yes, that’s great,” David said, without Sabrina’s enthusiasm.
Jeremy took the pastry box and whispered in my ear. “You look amazing. I’m considering sending them home.”
Oh, please do. “I like that idea.”
“What idea?” Sabrina asked.
“Having a drink,” Jeremy said, heading for the kitchen, his arm still linked with mine. “Beer or wine?” he asked, opening the fridge.
“Beer,” I answered, glad I had a choice.
“Both?” Sabrina laughed. “It’s been a long day. I’m filling out applications for grad schools.”
“What program are you applying for?” David asked.
“Psychology. I want to be a therapist who focuses on PTSD. After learning what recon teams really go through, or as much of it as I’m allowed to know, I’ve realized how much need there is for soldiers to have good therapists.”
“You were recon?” David asked, eyeing me like he didn’t quite believe it. Why was the man such an ass to me?
"Yes, but I don’t like to talk about it.” I glared at Sabrina. She knew better than to bring up what I’d dealt with. I didn’t talk about that shit with anyone.
Jeremy held up two beers, both local ales. “Sabrina, you want to start with one of these?”
“Sure,” she said, taking the nearest one.
“Dinner’s almost ready. I made lasagna, garlic bread, and a salad.”
“Sounds great.” I’d been worried Jeremy would make something exotic. I didn’t want to have a culinary adventure. Dealing with David was more than enough.