Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
It’s going to be one hell of an interesting holiday.
2
DELIA
I don’t want to go into the house. Like, at all.
Because I know that inside this house is going to be more of Dean Dixon. His scent, the things he touches every day, his bed….oh, no. I don’t want to go inside at all.
Actually, that’s a lie. I want to go inside too much. I know I shouldn’t, but I really, really do.
How in the hell did I manage to go from planning on breaking up with Brody to feeling weak in the knees at seeing his father? Talk about a silver fox. Or a wolf might be more accurate. Dean Dixon looks like a predator that might eat me alive, and I just know I’d enjoy every minute of it.
Meanwhile, his frustrating-as-hell son keeps trying to touch my arm and my lower back as if we didn’t fight most of the drive over. If I hadn’t already promised that I’d spend the weekend with him, then I would have definitely bailed, but Brody had basically begged.
The thing is, I told him before we left Providence that I didn’t think this relationship was working out, but he insisted that we hold it together for the holiday just so he didn’t have to spend the entire time stuck in the house with his dad who he just didn’t see eye to eye with.
I wanted to say no, but Brody had pulled my ass out of the fire last month when my bakery’s oven had stopped working and there was no one to come out and look at it on a Sunday night. I was the only one scheduled, and my boss wasn’t answering. I knew if he came in the next day and there were no pastries to sell, I’d be so fired. He greased the palms of some repairman who reluctantly came out to fix the oven, which was great.
Brody whining that I wouldn’t sleep with him afterward, though, was not so great. I had promised him a favor at any time as long as it didn’t have to do with my body or his, and this Thanksgiving trip is what he chose—even knowing that we’ve basically broken up.
That’s why the touchy-feely nonsense is bothering me as much as it is. But even that takes a backseat to how Dean is making me feel. Because…wow. Just wow.
I stepped out of Brody’s car, sore and desperate to pee since the asshole refused to stop the whole way here, and stretched while I enjoyed finally getting out of the vehicle. Then I opened my eyes and looked forward, and found myself looking at the Rhode Island equivalent of Thor.
My heart had started beating so fast that it was almost scary, my mouth going dry…nipples going hard…hell, even my pussy started to tingle when his eyes met mine. It’s like every part of me that had been sleeping was suddenly awake, and lust roared through me like a storm.
Dean Dixon is no less than 6'3, skin bronzed from working outside, and his dark hair and beard flecked through with silver, especially at his temples. He’s so packed with muscle that it looks like his shirt is straining to control his broad chest and thick arms.
With a wide mouth, thick brows, a large nose, and stormy gray eyes, his face drew me in more than his body, which is saying a lot. Because he definitely has the hottest body I’ve ever seen. When he came forward to shake my hand, I could smell the motor oil from the motorcycle he had been working on when we arrived, but underneath that, he smelled like an evergreen forest—sharp, fresh, and warm. I wanted to bury my nose in his neck so much that I had to take a deep breath to stop myself.
God, the effect this man is having on me is so wildly inappropriate that I don’t know what in the world I’m supposed to do. He makes all of my feminist ideas go flying out the window, and I can see myself barefoot and pregnant in his kitchen, cooking him an extravagant meal after being fucked senseless. He’d come up behind me and rub my shoulders, kissing the side of my neck and telling me exactly what he wanted for dessert….
Christ on a cracker. Get it together, Delia!
I shake my head to disperse all the thoughts I definitely shouldn’t be having and force myself back into the present. I don’t want to go into the house because of how much Dean is affecting me, but what choice do I have? This insta-crush I’ve developed on my boyfriend’s dad isn’t going to get me out of having to spend this holiday here. The sooner I get over it, the better.
But when Brody passes by me in the doorway and I’m left with Dean close enough that our shoulders could touch, I’m absolutely positive that I’m not going to get over it. He looks down at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen—like I’m an oasis and he’s dying of thirst. No one has ever looked at me like this, and I have never wanted to touch another human being so badly.