Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
He just grins, that knowing, wolfish smirk that tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Call in sick. I’ll write you a note.” His hands are everywhere, sliding up my ribs, tangling in my hair, palming my ass so hard my knees wobble. I want him so bad it actually hurts.
My inner voice is shrieking “YES!!!” but my rational side is waving frantic warning flags. Surgery at eight. “God, I wish I could.” I call on the last few ounces of my control. “But Mr. Olson’s little Pookie-Poo needs to have his boy parts removed before he knocks up any more cats in the neighborhood.” I groan as he kisses a path down the side of my throat. He kisses a path down the side of my throat, and I almost melt right into the tile. Part of me is ready to say screw it and call off work as his lips brush behind my ear, sending a shiver through me, but then he pulls back and grins down at me. The regret in his eyes is real, but so is the damn pride.
“Go save Mr. Olson’s neighborhood from Pookie-Poo,” he murmurs, voice rough with wanting. “But I want a rain check.”
I shiver, practically vibrating. “Count on it.”
He plants one last filthy, perfect kiss on my mouth, making my toes curl all over again, then smacks my ass as he steps out of the shower. He grabs a towel and wraps it around me. He dries my hair, then grabs a second towel for himself and does a quick pass over his chest and arms.
I stare at him, slack-jawed and zero percent subtle. This man is unfair. There should be warning labels. Caution: Wet, Shirtless Beckett May Cause Spontaneous Ovary Detonation.
He grins at me like he knows exactly what’s going through my head, then takes two steps closer and yanks me in for a hard, filthy kiss that leaves me dizzy. My knees are total noodles.
“Stop looking at me like that or I’ll forget we both have to get ready for work.” Beckett’s voice goes all lethal and low.
I clutch the towel a little tighter and try to remember we both have responsibilities. “It sucks to adult,” I grumble as we both get dressed and prepare for the day.
CHAPTER NINE
BECKETT
I pull my truck into the lot and barely remember to put the fucker in park before sprinting for the side entrance. My hair is still damp from the shower I shared with Elsie, and all I can think about is the imprint of her nails in my shoulders and the honey-sweet way she moaned my name.
I’m a goddamn disaster with zero brain cells left after last night. Elsie short-circuited every goddamn one of them.
And to make things worse, my phone is already blowing up with group chat messages from the assholes I call my brothers. Evidently, Ian fucked me over and created a “Beckett got laid because he never came to get Pork n Beans,” family group chat. Asshole.
Get it together, Hot.
Ian, my youngest brother, is slumped at the table, wolfing down a mountain of eggs like he’s been starved for weeks. His shirt is half-untucked, hair sticking up in wild spikes, and he’s got a glob of what I really hope is ketchup smeared across his cheekbone.
Across from him, Atlas is wolfing down pancakes. His phone’s brightness is cranked up so high I can SEE the group chat lighting him up from across the room.
Dawson’s at the counter, scrolling through messages while absentmindedly stirring his coffee.
The minute I step in, all three brothers snap to attention and lay on the shit-eating grins.
“Look who made it in,” Ian hoots, like it’s the punchline to a joke.
Atlas shoves half a pancake in his mouth, talking around the food. “Look at that hickey on his neck.” The fucker whistles through his teeth. “Impressive.”
“I can’t believe the grumpy asshole found someone to give him a hickey.” Dawson smirks as I flip him off.
“Why are you here today?” I growl back at him. “Don’t you have a meeting in Houston?”
Dawson just shrugs like it’s no big deal. “They moved the inspector training. Houston’s got a rolling blackout, and the city rescheduled half their classes. I’ll go next week instead.” A huge fucking smile lights up his face. “Perfect timing. Now, I get to be here and witness this…” He points at my throat, and I barely resist the urge to cover up the bruise.
Atlas grins, pure trouble. “We all get to witness it.”
Ian waggles his eyebrows. “I’m supposed to get all the details for my wife.”
I glare at all of them, but they’re like a pack of hyenas with a fresh kill. Dawson just sips his coffee, totally unbothered. “And Mom is waiting for an update. She’s already taking credit for your new relationship and planning your wedding.” Fucking hell. My mother is never going to let me forget this. Oh well. Meeting Elsie was worth whatever shit I’ll have to take from my crazy ass family.