Boots at the Beach (Insta Love Island Book 9) by Daisy Gold

Author:Daisy Gold [Gold, Daisy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-13T16:00:00+00:00

Three hours and a bunch of daiquiri-like drinks later, Atticus—who only had two beers all night, follows me up the stairs. “Baby,” he says, smiling up at me as he holds my hips steady. “Keep your hand on the railing and stop looking back at me.”

“I am,” I say. At least, I think that’s what I say, though it doesn’t make a lot of sense.

His smile widens. He has the nicest smile. It’s so honest.

“I like your smile, too,” he says.

Did I say that out loud?

“But, I don’t know how long these stairs are gonna hold us both.” He pats my bathing-suit-covered butt, which is level with his face. “Now, turn around and keep moving.”

“Attie, you have no idea how much love lives in this place.” I’m slurring.

This is bad.

Two nights in a row of drinking is not healthy. It’s not the person I want to be. But those drinks—Slippery Poles, Ada called them—they just went down so easy.

Atticus pats me again. “You’re on your honeymoon trip all alone because your jackass of a fiance dumped you with a sticky note, which you think means there’s something wrong with you, even though there ain’t.”

Ouch.

He gives my hips a squeeze. “A little more drinking than usual is to be expected. Now, move.”

It’s like slogging through molasses, but I manage to climb the rest of the stairs and collapse in the chair at the balcony table. Atticus takes my key and feeds it into the doorknob, and my pickled, perverted, hasn’t-gotten-laid-in-months brain goes... there.

Plus, he’s got these big, old paws that look like they could toss a girl around just fine, and there are calluses all over his fingers. His forearms are so pretty, too—all defined and sexy.

He turns to me, his expression expectant.

“I can’t move,” I explain.

Sighing, Atticus collects me, and his arms are warm under my knees and around my back. The ease with which he lifts me is a surprise.

Well, he’s used to hauling around cows.

“Stop that shit,” he says. “You’re perfect. And calves ain’t cows.”

Atticus carries me over the threshold to our room, and I press my face against his neck to hide the tears that threaten to roll down my cheeks.

“You’re okay, princess,” he promises.

I drunkenly pat his cheek. “You’re so nice, Attie.”

“I’m nice to you.”

“How come you’re not married?” A terrible thought hits. “You’re not, are you?”

A soft chuckle vibrates through his chest. “No. Not anymore.”

I feel my eyes widen. “You were married? What happened?”

“Life,” he says.

“Well, that’s a bullshit answer.”

Atticus laughs. “We met at a rodeo in Guymon and got married a few weeks later. I was twenty-one. She was nineteen. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. We lasted a year and a half, which ain’t half bad by some standards. Since then, it hasn’t seemed worth the trouble to get into anything too deep.”

“Just balls-deep?”

“You’re a sassy little thing when you’re all liquored up.”

“Did you love her?”

“My ex-wife? Most of the time. More at the beginning than at the end.”

“Naturally.”

Atticus hasn’t moved from the entryway.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.