Connell Read online Samantha Whiskey (Carolina Reapers #3)

Categories Genre: Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Carolina Reapers Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
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Heat flared in my chest, up my neck, under my cheeks. How could he be so brazen? So bold to say exactly what was on his mind?

“I’m not denying it,” I admitted on a whisper. “But I’m not indulging it either.” I waved a hand between us. “This can’t happen. I’m your—”

“Boss,” he cut me off, then smiled. “But not for long,” he added. “I can wait.” He winked and then pointed to the computer behind me. “How’s the ostrich hunt going?”

I blinked a few times, my head spinning from the jump in topics. He seemed to notice the whiplash and laughed softly. I straightened in my seat, shifting gears. “Not as well as I’d hoped,” I said. “There aren’t as many ostriches in need of rescue as I assumed there would be. At this rate the reserve will be completed before I secure the birds. They’re incredibly expensive and, thanks to you, we do have a considerable budget but I’m trying to figure out if there is any other option so we can save funds for advertising and stocking the reserve. So…I’m at a crossroads. For now.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Oh, I know I will. I just need time to puzzle it all out.”

Connell glanced at the clock. “You have plans tonight?”

I pressed my lips together. “Connell we can’t—”

“Eat?” He cut me off. “I’m having dinner with Logan and his girlfriend. Come with us. Help me not be a third wheel.”

I bit my lip, contemplating. I was hungry, but doing anything with Connell outside of this office seemed dangerous.

“It’s just food, Annabelle,” he said. “No expectations or schemes.” He held up his hand in an I swear motion.

A thrill rushed through me. The only dinner plans I’d had for tonight consisted of a cold sandwich and a good book.

“Okay,” I said. “Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll text you the address,” he said, slowly backing out of my office. “See you in a bit.”

And before I could argue, the damn Scot was out the door.

“Baby, just show them!” Blaire teasingly nudged Logan in the booth seat across from us.

I’d cringed when the waitress had guided us to a booth instead of a table, knowing I’d have to sit so close to Connell. Have to feel the warmth of his body and smell that intoxicating scent all night. I’d silently cursed and thanked the waitress as I’d slid in, taking the interior seat, as had Blaire.

“They don’t need to see it,” Logan said, his voice strong but quiet, calm.

“Babe!” Blaire shook her head, her long hair swishing over her shoulders with the move. Her playful laugh did nothing to mar the perfection of her makeup, either. It only made her look more beautiful.

I shifted in the booth, suddenly wondering if I’d selected the correct dress tonight. A vintage Dior off-shoulder dress, it hugged my curves on the top and billowed out in the skirts, stopping just below my knee. When I’d slipped it on, I’d felt as beautiful as the queen Marilyn Monroe herself, but next to Blaire? God, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her, that much was clear from the skin-tight tube-top black sequined dress she wore. She looked perfect next to Logan. Like she belonged there.

She’d look perfect next to Connell too, or anyone like her. Much more than myself.

Stop.

Right. I sucked in a sharp breath and straightened in my seat. I loved my body. I loved my life. I’d never questioned it before, and I wasn’t about to start questioning it just because of one mind-blowing kiss from Connell. We weren’t an item, so I didn’t have to worry about being compared to girls like Blaire.

“Here,” she said, plucking her phone from the corner of the table where she’d had it all night. She’d managed to snap four selfies, five different angles of her meal, and even went as far as taking a picture of our after-dinner coffees. “Check this out,” she said and turned the screen to face us.

Her Instagram feed filled the screen, but she expertly clicked an image from the dozen shown and enlarged the post.

“That’s your gear bag,” Connell said, tilting his head at Logan.

I too was confused as to how this was the career-impacting post she’d been talking about for the last half-hour.

“Yeah,” Logan said.

Blaire rolled her eyes. “I made sure he laid his favorite Under Armor shirt over the top,” she said, smiling at Logan. “It got over twenty-thousand likes, and now they’ve contacted him for a sponsorship!”

“Congratulations,” I said, grinning at Logan. “That is wonderful.”

Logan wrapped his arm around Blaire. “I’ve never understood social media, much. Mostly my PA handles the page, but lately, Blaire has been taking lead,” he said.

“I’ve tripled his followers,” she said, leaning into him. “And this Under Armor deal will be the first of many, babe.”


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