Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“That’s crazy.” Her brow furrows as if she can’t understand why I would offer this comfort to her. This woman has no idea how incredible she is in every way.
“No, what’s crazy is that I can’t stop thinking about you, and after holding you twice now….” Her eyes grow wide. We haven’t talked about me holding her on Declan’s couch. “I think I could grow addicted.”
“Such sweet words. I’m still not having dinner with you.” Her tone is light and teasing, but her eyes tell me another story. If I’m not mistaken, I see longing.
“I’m good with it,” I tell her. “If I get moments like this one… like we had the other night. Just us, I’ll take them.”
“Actions of circumstance.”
“Is that what this is?” I trace my finger over her bottom lip. “I know I was supposed to be comforting you, but damn, gorgeous, you smell so damn good, and you fit just right.” I tap my chest. “Right here, like you were made to be in this exact spot. So, no, not actions of circumstance. This is more than that.”
“I’m not looking to be involved.”
“That’s fine. Just remember, when you do need hugs, or something more, you come to me to get it. Not one of my brothers, not some other jackass who won’t take care of you. You come to me. Deal?”
“You’re something else, Rushton Kincaid.”
“Rush. My friends call me Rush.”
“Are you playing or not?” Archer calls down the steps.
“We better get up there.” I lace her fingers with mine and guide her up the stairs. We reach the top, and it takes herculean effort to drop her hand. I like the feel of her hand in mine. I also like having her in my arms.
I meant what I said, though. If she needs me, I’m dropping everything to be there for her. I don’t know why, but I do know that she’s never had that in her life. Someone to put her first, and that makes me want to be the man to do it.
I need to unpack what all this means, but right now, I need to focus on kicking ass in euchre and not letting my family figure out that I quite possibly might be falling for the gorgeous teacher.
CHAPTER
TEN
Crosby
I plop down on the couch with my bowl of macaroni and cheese. It’s been an exhausting week, and I don’t have the energy for anything more. Besides, it’s just me, and there’s no need for a huge meal.
My students were in rare form this week. If they weren’t extra chatty, they were cranky, and don’t get me started on those who are sick. Runny noses and lack of use of tissues were my life. It feels good to be home and just relaxing.
My phone dings just as I take the first bite of my cheesy dinner. Setting the bowl on the end table, I grab my phone and smile when I see Rushton’s name on the screen.
Rushton: Dinner?
I smile. If Rushton Kincaid is anything, he’s consistent and persistent. I snap a quick picture of my bowl of mac-and-cheese delight and send it to him.
Rushton: Want some company?
Me: I’m going to have to pass. I’m already in my pajamas. It’s been a long week.
Rushton: What kind of pajamas are we talking about?
Another text follows immediately after.
Rushton: Need a hug?
Me: Flannel pants and a T-shirt that’s way too big for me. And you give the best hugs, but I’m too exhausted to move.
Rushton: I would do all the work.
Rushton: That’s not an innuendo, but yeah, I’d do all the work for that too.
He sends a string of wide-smiling emojis, and I can’t help it; I laugh. Out loud. I’m glad I’m the only one here to witness the insanity. It’s as if I become a different person where Rushton is involved. He brings something out in me that others before him have failed to do. Thankfully, there are no witnesses.
I decide to let him sit for a few while I finish my dinner. I should have known he wouldn’t let that slide because as I’m shoveling in my last bite, my phone rings. I rush to chew and swallow before answering. “Hey.”
“You stopped responding.”
“I was finishing my dinner.”
“Are you done?”
I take a drink of my sweet tea. “Yep.”
“Tell me about your week.”
“You already know the kids were not themselves this week,” I remind him. We’ve been texting off and on for the last two weeks. Since I had Sunday dinner with his family. I didn’t go last week even though I was invited. I learned to leave my laundry and grocery shopping on Sundays, so I’m not lying when I tell them that I have too much to do to get ready for the coming week.
Last week Maverick and Merrick knocked on my door, wearing matching smiles. When I asked them what they were so happy about, they said that their mom picked them over Rushton to deliver me leftovers. They then proceeded to hand me a container filled with more food than I would ever be able to eat in one sitting. Asked if I needed anything, and when I said no, they went back to their place.