Not Quite Forever (Not Quite series) Read Online Free PDF

linger on the curve of her butt . . . the very curve of her body where she felt heat swimming along the surface?
    Dakota let her eyes drop to the ground and feather over her shoulder.
    He stood still in the entrance of the bar, women walking around him, eyeing him. His eyes swept her frame, his bottom lip sucked in between his teeth in a way that said a hell of a lot more than any words could.
    Walt wore a button-down silk shirt and casual pants. His hair was still wet from a recent shower. Someone attempted to stop him as he moved toward them, but he brushed them off and kept moving forward.
    “Hey,” Monica said the moment he made it within earshot. “I was wondering if we were going to see you before your date.”
    The word date had Dakota lifting her eyebrows.
    “Drinks, Mo. Not a date.”
    Beside her, Mary chuckled.
    “Drinks can be a date. I’ll bet some of your books have drink dates . . . right, Dakota?”
    “I can think of at least one book that starts off with a drink date.”
    Walt actually shuffled his feet. And was that a blush?
    Adorable.
    Monica glanced over their heads. “So where is she?”
    Mary’s giggle turned into a laugh.
    “I won’t embarrass you,” Monica continued.
    “Too late,” Mary mumbled.
    Dakota knocked an elbow into her friend’s side. “Getting a quiet drink in here isn’t going to be possible,” Dakota announced.
    “I can see that.”
    By now, the bar was four people deep and the temperature shot up several degrees.
    “There are a couple of bars just down the block,” Walt suggested.
    “Sounds good to me,” Monica said.
    Looked like quiet drinks with just the doctor were going to have to wait.
    “Let’s go.” Dakota took the liberty of latching on to Walt’s arm.
    He didn’t miss a beat, just held on and started walking away.
    “Wait. You’re Walt’s date?” Monica asked.
    Dakota shook her head. “Nawh, it’s just drinks. Right, Doc?”
    He laughed.
    Heat and humidity always accompanied Florida. The forced air conditioning of the hotel really didn’t let those inside understand the oppressive weather outside the doors.
    Gray clouds blocked out the sun, but didn’t drop the temperature below eighty.
    “Feels like a storm,” Trent said behind them as they ducked into the comfort of the air-conditioned bar.
    “I’m glad we’re not flying,” Monica said.
    “I love a good storm. We don’t get enough of them in California.”
    “Is that where you’re from?” Glen asked Mary.
    “Yeah. We haven’t had rain in so long even the tumbleweeds are becoming extinct.”
    They found a table big enough for all of them and staked their seats. Walt pulled out Dakota’s chair and the gesture told her two things. One, he did think of this as a kind of date, and two . . . his mother taught him how to treat a lady.
    Mary reached for a bar menu and started flipping through it. “I hope they have something other than fried food. I’m starving.”
    “You haven’t eaten?”
    “Convention food.”
    Monica laughed. “Cheese, crackers, and fruit if you get in line first.”
    “Exactly,” Dakota said.
    Monica glanced at her husband. “I wonder if Jack is open to suggestions on convention menus. I know he doesn’t deal with them directly, but there has to be something better than cheese and crackers.”
    Mary reached for the peanuts on the table, cracked a shell. “Who’s Jack?”
    The question sat on the tip of Dakota’s lips.
    “Morrison. Jack is my brother-in-law.”
    The connection didn’t click immediately.
    Walt leaned forward. “Jack Morrison, as in the owner of the hotels.”
    Dakota found herself holding her breath. “Seriously?”
    Monica confirmed with a nod while one of the servers approached the table.
    After they ordered drinks, the conversation picked back up. “So where do all of you live?” Dakota asked.
    Trent, Monica, and Glen lived in the Northeast, and surprisingly Walt lived about thirty miles from Dakota’s Orange County