He’s a Charmer by Stacy Travis EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Stacy Travis
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Genre: Sports Romance
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
- Publish Date: March 15, 2023
Linnie
Three Months Later—San Francisco
“I’m so chuffed to be here, you have no idea!” I feel like I drank four
cups of coffee on the plane, when actually I’ve had only . . . four cups. Well,
there you go.
The scenery whizzes by and I have no idea what I’m seeing, but it doesn’t
matter. Even if it’s just cars on the freeway headed north from San Francisco
Airport, it’s California. I imagine beaches and Hollywood celebrities and
glamour.
I can’t stop bouncing in the back seat of my brother’s car. “Why do you
drive this tiny car?” I ask, measuring a two-inch space between my head and
the roof of the MINI Cooper.
He looks at me like it’s obvious. “I’m a Brit.”
“Yeah. And this company has been owned by BMW for nearly two
decades.” Catching sight of myself in his rearview mirror, I notice my braids
have gone lopsided on the ten-hour plane flight, so I try in vain to straighten
them and eventually undo the plaits into wild waves. I feel like I have a
spring under my bum and the energy of a hundred busy squirrels. “Did I tell
you how excited I am?”
“I think I have some idea,” Tim grumbles, unapologetic about being his
best grouchy self. “You’re not especially subtle, Lin.”
“Why are you in a mood?” I ask, swatting his shoulder and searching his
profile for answers. He was kind initially, loading my luggage into the boot
of the car while I settled in and reapplied my lipstick, but things have taken a
turn.
“Because I’m not your bloody Uber driver. And because it’s eleven at
night, and I’m going on a sixteen-hour day—half of it on the soccer pitch
doing drills. And because it’s giving me a headache to watch you bounce.”
He tips the mirror away.
“Uber driver’d be friendlier,” I mutter.
“Happy to find you one if you’d prefer.”
I scoot forward and wrap my arms around my brother’s neck. “No! I want
you, Tim Cheltenham. Is it tea time yet?”
My brain hurts from trying to calculate the eight-hour time difference
from home, and after sleeping for a few hours on the plane, I’m all turned
around.
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