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)
I glance at the animals and snort. “It’s technically my mother’s fault. She fostered these two after their previous owner fell sick. He was a little old man who lived down the street. When he went into hospice, the animals needed a place. Mom thought she’d find them a new home after a few weeks…”
“Lemme guess,” she laughs, “you fell. Hard.”
“We all did,” I admit. “Plus, they’re a bonded pair. Couldn’t split them up, even if I wanted to.”
She leans forward, chin in her hands. “That’s adorable. You’re a softie, Beckett. I’m onto you.”
I roll my eyes. “If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
She snorts and takes another bite of pizza. “Anyone who sees you with your pets already knows.”
I want to memorize this—her laugh, the way her eyes crinkle at the corners, and how she snorts when something really cracks her up. I want to bottle it, keep it, get drunk off it.
She wipes her mouth and leans back, totally relaxed. “So, have you lived here your whole life?”
“Born and raised,” I say. “Riverbend’s the only place I’ve ever wanted to be. Always knew I’d stay, make something here.” I can’t help watching her as I talk. She’s really listening. Most people fake it—nod, smile, move on. Not her.
She twirls the wine, watching the color catch the light. “I get it. I moved here from Houston a couple of months ago. I needed a change of pace.” She glances up and holds my stare. “I had no idea how much I’d love it until I got here, honestly. Every day it’s something new—one minute, I’m checking on a miniature goat with a head cold, and the next, I’m doing surgery on a rescue raccoon. It was the best decision I’ve ever made.”
The way her whole face lights up when she talks about her work? Goddamn. I want that every day.
We kill the entire pizza off before I know it. By the time the last slice disappears, I’m so full I could explode, but I don’t want the night to end.
She glances at the clock with real regret. “Sorry to eat and run, but I’ve got an early surgery tomorrow, and Mr. Snugglebutt is a tyrant if I’m late.”
I blink several times, wondering if I heard her right. “Mr. Snugglebutt?”
“My spoiled-rotten, grumpy cat.” The fond smile on her face tells me all I need to know.
She stands, and the animals instantly protest—Beans makes a heartbroken whuff, while Pork snuffles her ankle in a last-ditch guilt trip. She crouches down and gives both a proper goodbye, murmuring absolute nonsense to them.
I walk her to the door, hands jammed in my pockets, so I don’t do something insane like grab her and never let go. But holy hell, the urge is practically burning out my control circuits. My hands twitch in my pockets, and I barely unlock the front door before Beans tries to wedge himself between us, snorting like a jealous toddler.
Elsie turns to me, her eyes so bright I want to drown in them. “Tonight was… really fun.” Her voice is soft, a little shy, but she’s grinning. Jesus, she’s gorgeous. I can’t remember ever wanting to kiss someone this badly in my life.
“Yeah,” I agree, and I hear the rough edge in my own voice. “Best night I’ve had in a long time.” My heart’s beating so hard it’s probably visible through my shirt. The need to haul her against me and see if her mouth tastes as sweet as her smile is almost unbearable.
She bites her lip, like she’s waiting to see what I’ll do next.
I don’t leave her wondering. I step closer, crowding her against the doorway. Her body goes soft and sweet against me, exactly where she belongs. Those blue eyes go wide, lips parting like she’s just as desperate as I am. I slam my hand to the frame behind her head, pinning her in place, and lower my mouth to hers.
The second our lips touch, I fucking lose it.
She tastes like wine and heat and everything I never knew I needed. Soft. Fucking perfect. Her hands fist in my shirt, and she arches against me, letting out a little breathless sound that nearly makes me throw caution out the damn window and haul her back inside.
I force myself to ease up, just enough so she knows I’m not going to maul her on the porch. Not unless she begs me.
She’s dazed, smiling, cheeks flushed as I walk her to her car. I cup her jaw and brush my thumb over her bottom lip just to feel it tremble under my touch. She shivers, looking up at me. "Thanks again for dinner," she breathes, her voice honey-sweet and low.
"Thanks for taking care of my crazy pig," I whisper back, my voice rough with wanting her. She laughs, the sound sending a bolt of heat straight to my cock. I don’t want to let her go. Ever. I brush my thumb over her cheek, memorizing the way her skin flushes under my touch.