Talk Wordy To Me (His Curvy Librarian 1) - Page 12

“Umm, no,” I say. “I haven’t even slept over. You can ask Grace—I come home every night.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t,” Nora said. “What’s keeping you here?”

“Uh, the fact that this is my home,” I say, getting defensive. “All of my stuff is here. Mom and Dad are here. Not to mention the fact that there’s nothing serious between Chuck and me. No strings attached.”

“That didn’t work for Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher, and I’m not buying it here either,” Brook says.

“Well, tell that to Chuck,” I shoot back.

Seriously, who am I to argue when the rich, gorgeous real estate mogul with the magical cock wants to keep things casual? Casual is working out just fine for me.

10

Chuck

The day after my brokerage sealed the deal on a huge luxury condo development downtown, my crew of agents take me out to dinner to celebrate. They want to get drinks after and make a whole night of it, but I find myself checking my watch often and making excuses a little after seven o’clock.

“What’s the rush, dude?” Alex, one of my top agents and closest friends, asks. “It’s early.”

“Plus,” Parker, one of the other agents, leans in to say, “check out the talent at the bar.”

He nods subtly in the direction of a group of blondes in tight, clingy dresses—exactly the kinds of girls I used to go for. Fun. Easy. No chance whatsoever of forging an actual connection beyond physically.

Lately, though, I’ve only got eyes for my Cookie.

“Yeah, I think the one on the end is checking you out,” I tell Parker. “You should go for it.”

I stand up from my chair and button my blazer, and Alex gives me a disappointed look. “You’re not seriously leaving, are you?”

“I told Cassidy I would swing by after dinner,” I tell him. “There’s supposed to be a meteor shower later tonight and I figured we could watch for it from the hot tub.”

Parker makes a gagging noise at the romantic image, and Alex just arches an eyebrow. “Who are you and what have you done with the Chuck I know? The one who never dates the same girl twice? The one who would have loved the challenge of picking up the hottest girl in that group over there?”

I pause. I can’t possibly express to him how little that interests me now, and yet his words stir something deep in my gut.

Where did that guy go?

And who the hell is this stargazing, flower-picking, spend-every-available-moment-with-the-same-girl romantic fool who’s replaced him?

Despite how delicious the meal was, I find myself with a bit of a stomach ache and all of a sudden I wonder if I’m setting myself up for a fall. Cassidy’s got her whole family, and her big, cozy farmhouse, and her adoring library patrons.

All I’ve got is Gramps… and her.

And I sure as hell don’t want to find out what it feels like to have my heart ripped out.

That’s why we’re keeping things casual. It’s why I instituted my one-date policy in the first place. And yet, somewhere along the line, Cassidy made me forget all that. She made me want to take the risk.

But is it a good idea?

I say goodnight to the guys and I smirk as I see Parker heading for one of the blondes before I’ve even left the restaurant. I’m still deep in my thoughts, wondering if all this time I’ve been spending with Cassidy is a bad idea, when I get to my car and my phone starts to buzz in my pocket.

I get in, key the ignition, and hit accept call on the dashboard. “Hey, Cookie, I’m on my way–”

“Mr. McArthur?” a voice I don’t recognize asks.

I pause with my hand on the gearshift. “Yes?”

“This is Nurse Judy Lane at Golden Creek Hospital,” she says and I stop breathing while I wait for her to finish. It can only be a second-long pause, if that, but it feels like an hour. “Your grandfather was just admitted, and you’re listed as his emergency contact–”

I don’t let her finish. “Oh God, is he…” I can’t bring myself to say the word I dread most—the word that will mean I am all alone in this world—so instead I ask nonsensically, “Is he okay?”

Of course, he’s not okay. Nurses don’t call from the hospital when people are okay. Oh Gramps… don’t leave me.

“He’s had a stroke. He’s in critical condition,” she says. “You need to come quickly.”

“Okay,” I say. “Okay, I’m coming!”

My vision is blurred when I reach for the gearshift again, though, and my heart is hammering in my chest. How the hell am I supposed to get to the hospital if I can’t see? I swipe furiously at the tears in my eyes and then reach for the phone icon to dial another number.

11

Cassidy

I’m just putting the finishing touches on my outfit for tonight—a cozy sweater and jeans for our stargazing date—when my phone begins to ring.

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