Coming Home (Whiskey Men #3) Read Online Hope Ford

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Series: Whiskey Men Series by Hope Ford
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Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
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She cuts me off. “You don’t even know me.”

I shrug and point to the open room before us. It’s huge. The living room, dining room, and kitchen are all open into one another. The furniture is sparse. There’s a chair in front of a little television. And there are stools at the bar that divides the kitchen from the living area. Other than that, there’s not much to it. “For a week, I’ve come home to this. Look at it and tell me what you would do to it.”

She starts to shake her head. “I don’t know. Heck, Hudson I don’t know what color schemes you like, dark wood or light wood, nothing. I can’t just—”

I cut her off and put my hands on her shoulders. “Yes, you can. If this was your house and you didn’t have a budget, what would you do?”

I tug on a stray strand of hair and tuck it behind her ear. I’m so close to her, I want to stay right here. She blinks when she looks up at me. “Can I look around first?”

I nod with a big smile. “Absolutely.”

I point to the rooms around us. “The living room, kitchen, and dining room.” I walk across the living room and open a door before allowing her to go through it. “This will be my office, and there’s a bathroom through that door.”

I take her back across the living room and open another door. “This is the main bedroom with en suite bathroom.” I open the door to the closet. “And the closet.” She pushes the door and walks in with her mouth hanging open. “This closet is as big as the living room, bedroom, and kitchen at my apartment.”

I laugh and put my hand at her lower back. She walks back into the bedroom and looks at the bedroll. “Is this where you’ve been sleeping?”

I walk toward the door, ready to get her out of here. I’m not comfortable talking about it, but I’m not going to lie either. “Yeah, this is where I’ve been sleeping.”

“Where’s your bed?”

I cringe and point to the bedroll and rucksack that’s been stowed in the corner. “There.”

She walks toward it to get a closer look. “Hudson, you’ve been sleeping on an Army-issued pad?”

I shrug. “There’s a bed upstairs in one of the bedrooms, but I couldn’t sleep on it. This is what I’m used to.”

She opens her mouth and then closes it again. The way she looks at me with so much emotion shining on her face has me shrugging my shoulders. “It’s fine. I’m going to get a bed. I just need to work my way into it. It’s been a long time. I may have moved up in the ranks, but I still chose to serve missions. I stayed with my men, and if that meant sleeping outside in the elements… in a desert… wherever, that’s what I did, and most the time it was on one of those pads.”

After my little speech, I gesture to the door, and she takes the hint, leading me through the open doorway. I point across the kitchen. “Back there is a mudroom that leads to the garage. Up those steps are three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a bonus room.”

She nods and walks to the center of the room. I want to follow her. I’m not sure what this feeling I have for her is, but I want to keep her close. She turns in a circle, looking at everything. “Do you want to know what I think?”

Fuck, I’m happy just listening to her talk. “Yes, I’d love to know what you’re thinking.”

She nods. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But you have to promise me one thing.”

I nod. “I promise.”

She smiles and walks in a circle. “Okay, promise me that if I suggest something you don’t like, you tell me. This is your house, and you have to love it.”

I know whatever she does I’m going to be happy with, but this obviously means something to her. “I promise.”

She nods happily. “Okay. So I’m thinking a big television so you and your brothers can hang out and watch the game.”

I nod approvingly, and she keeps going. I follow her around the room as she describes the large walnut wood furniture, the lamps, and the beige color scheme to offset the dark furniture. She talks about how the kitchen should be bright and airy, and I’m just following along, lost in the sound of her voice. We make it to the office, and she points to the wall. “I’m picturing a bookcase that runs the full length of the room. Do you like to read, Hudson?”

I nod. “Yes. I actually read quite a bit.”

She smiles approvingly. “Good. So a bookcase with a big desk. I’m thinking this wall would work great for your medals.”



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