Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
He stands, stretching. The move does criminal things to his shirt. “Ready to go home?”
It takes me a second to realize he means his home. Our home. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I say as we head back down to the lobby. It only takes a second to check out, and I’m grateful for the mostly deserted lobby.
We tumble into the Mustang, the leather seats cool against my skin. My suitcase barely fits in the car, but Seth lifts it effortlessly, tossing it over the bench like it’s a feather. As we pull away from the curb, I crank the window down, and the thick, humid air rushes in, tousling my hair and filling my lungs with the scent of blooming magnolias. Seth’s hand finds its way to my thigh, his warm grip sending a shiver of reassurance through me.
The drive out of downtown feels surprisingly intimate, almost like a scene from a movie. He gestures toward the local landmarks—a quaint hardware store, the infamous town fountain that’s supposed to have magic water, and the coffee shop that he swears serves the best lattes on the planet.
Fifteen minutes later, we turn down a long, curving driveway, trees arching overhead, until the view opens up to reveal a sprawling white ranch house with a wide and welcoming porch.
Seth kills the engine and turns to me, searching my face for a reaction. “Welcome home,” he says, voice thick with pride.
“It’s gorgeous,” I breathe, and for once, I mean every word. It settles somewhere deep in my chest.
He’s out of the car before I even think to move, popping my door open, yanking my suitcase from the back, and holding his hand out for me. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”
Inside, the place is all polished wood and sunlight. There’s a massive, open kitchen that looks like it’s made for family dinners. Seth leads me past a living room with an L-shaped couch that could fit a football team, down a hallway lined with bedrooms, and finally to a master suite tucked at the back.
“You can have any room you want, but this one’s got the best view,” he says, dropping my suitcase at the foot of a king-sized bed that’s drowning in pillows.
He hangs in the doorway, hands in his pockets. “You want to unpack before dinner?”
I nod my head, needing a little time to collect myself. “It won’t take me too long.”
“Take your time.” He winks and walks over to kiss me on my forehead. “I’ll go order us a pizza.”
Once he’s gone, I take stock. The room smells like cedar and a hint of Seth’s spicy scent. I stash my makeup bag under the counter and hang my outfits in the closet next to his stuff. There’s something intimate about our things side-by-side, like we’ve been doing this forever.
CHAPTER 9
FRANKIE
Living with Seth is like getting swept up in the aftermath of a tornado, only instead of wreckage, you’re left with hot, heavy bliss. The first few days, I’m on edge. Waiting for the hammer to drop. Waiting for the universe to destroy my happiness. But nothing happens. No drama, no disaster. Just him. Just us. He gets me. I get him.
We fall into a rhythm so fast it leaves me dizzy. All the couple stuff I used to roll my eyes at, now I’m living it. Shared showers—not for efficiency, but because the sex is out of this world. Lazy mornings with coffee, him shirtless and rumpled, looking like he just stepped out of a dream. Ordering groceries online because neither of us wants to deal with the clucking grandmas at the market. I learn he likes his eggs runny and his bacon burnt to a crisp. My heart actually melts when he leaves his phone on Do Not Disturb every evening. “Work can wait, but you can’t,” he says, and it gets me every time.
Three days in, I realize I’m happier than I’ve been in years. It’s so easy, so perfect, that I keep waiting for the catch. There’s always a twist. Always a catch.
We’re on his back porch one evening. Seth’s in a white undershirt and old jeans, barefoot, one foot propped on the porch rail. He ordered my favorite pizza with pepperoni and Canadian bacon, then poured us both beers. While waiting for the pizza to arrive, we’re enjoying just being together. The only sounds are birds singing in the distance.
He glances over at me. “Everything going okay for you?”
I can’t help but smile. “It couldn’t be better.” And I’ve never been happier.
He laughs, tossing his head back, and I’m tempted to jump his smoking hot bones right on the spot. A small black car pulls up, breaking the moment. I sit back and watch as he hops off the porch to grab the pizza from the delivery man.