Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Pris slowly opens her arms and says, “That’s quite the welcome.”
“I missed you.” I lean my head against hers, and whisper, “I missed you more than you’ll ever know.”
Straightening her shoulders, she looks me in the eyes with some help from those heels she’s wearing. “You have all night to tell me about it, stud.”
“I’m hoping there’s less talking and more action on this trip.”
“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”
My sexy girl is up for a good time in bed, whether that be a mattress or in the back of a truck. I don’t know how I got so lucky.
I check in with the host stand to let them know we’re here and then take Pris’s hand. The man leads us into the next room, where the dining tables are. We’re given a booth in the corner after I pulled some strings—not only for the reservation but also for the privacy of one of the corner tables.
After ordering drinks, she slides a little closer. “It’s so good to see you.”
I rub her bare thigh, so glad to be with her again. I kiss her because I can. “You look beautiful in that dress.”
She glances down at the neckline and then at me again. “I don’t know how you knew my size, but it’s so pretty. Thank you for the shoes, the dress, and the bag. I didn’t bring anything like this.” Looking around, she adds, “I would have stood out like a sore thumb in this place.”
“You would have stood out because you’re breathtaking.”
“You know you’re getting laid, right? I feel like I made myself more than clear with the same-page comment and all that jazz.”
Chuckling, I give her leg a gentle squeeze. “I’m not telling you that to get laid, though I accept, but because you are beautiful. Whether on the ranch or at a restaurant, I can’t take my eyes off you.”
Her shoulders soften. She leans against me to put her head on my shoulder. Rubbing her hand over the front of my shirt, I have the slightest inkling she’s copping a feel of my abs. Whether she’s feeling sentimental or gets a good feel of me, I’m into it. I’m into her. So deep.
When she sits up, she plants her elbow on the table and chin on top of a balled-up fist. “Tell me the truth, Grange. Was the dress a setup? Were you trying to test me to see if I would snoop? Because I totally failed. I checked every room, though I didn’t go into the closets.” She pops upright. “I also used your shower and your expensive-smelling soaps and shampoos, the fluffiest towels to ever touch my body, and I wore the robe hanging in the bathroom while I got ready. A little makeup got on the collar. Hope you don’t mind.”
I stare at her, processing all that she just confessed. “All I heard is that being there felt like home.” I grin, loving that she felt so comfortable to do that.
“It felt like you.”
The smile falls, but not because I’m unhappy. I didn’t expect to feel so strongly for her this soon into the relationship. It’s never happened before to understand my emotions, but she’s blindsided me into the deep end of the ocean without so much as a life jacket. I’m sunk when it comes to her and happy to drown in this love.
Love?
Holy shit . . .
While I’m staring into the ethos, figuring when the hell I fell in love—the first time she met Beck, slow dancing with her in the rain, and making love to her in the barn, her comfortable to use my apartment like her own because it feels like me to her— she says, “You look handsome in your suit. I don’t think I’ve seen you all dressed up since prom your senior year.”
Looking down, I see a few wrinkles from the day, but otherwise, the suit is holding up. And although I’m still distracted by the fact that I just admitted to myself that I’m in love with Christine Greene, I welcome the change in topic. “I was working late. Sorry I didn’t get to greet you.”
“So this is what you look like every day?” Her eyes widen, and I notice the pitch of her right brow. “For work?”
“Yes. This is what asset managers wear. A suit is expected in my line of work.”
“I imagine this . . .” She swirls a finger in circles in front of me. “Is very distracting to women.”
The right side of my mouth quirks up. I nuzzle the tip of my nose behind her ear, taking in the delicate floral perfume she’s wearing and the softness of her skin. “You think so?” I place a kiss there and then another just on the underside of her jaw.
“Not cowboy hats and boots with those jeans that are fitted to that nice ass of yours, but I guess some would find this distracting.”