Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“I’m not having sex with you in your office with your staff members right outside this door.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Especially since Chloe is for sure in love with you.”
I stop midway to taking off my sweater. “She’s my technician,” I say softly.
“So, people don’t fall in love with people they work with?” she asks me and my eyebrows go up.
“Did you ever fall in love with someone you work or worked with?” I don’t even know why that statement bothers me, but it does.
“No”—she shakes her head—“because I know not to shit where I eat.”
I peel the sweater over my head and toss it to the side. Her eyes get heavy with lust as she gives me an up-and-down look. “You are going to have to wait,” I tell her as I put a clean pair of scrubs on, “until later.”
“I think I can contain myself.” She holds up two hands. “Do I have to change to come in the room with you?”
“You really want to come in the room with me?”
“Well, yeah.” She crosses her arms at the hem of her own sweater and pulls it up and over her head, leaving her with black leggings and a black lace bra. I lick my lips. “You’re going to have to wait”—she points at me, peeling her leggings over her hips and down her legs—“until later.”
“Fine,” I huff, my cock half-mast as she reaches on the shelf for a pair of scrubs. My hand comes out to roam over her ass. “But after”—I slap it softly—“it’s all mine.”
She gets changed into the scrubs and has to roll the top of the pants twice and then use an elastic band to bunch them at the side.
We walk out of the office and Chloe sees the both of us in scrubs and just turns her head the other way. Shit, I think to myself, Elizabeth might be right about this one. I have never once given her any notion that it would be more between us. I make a mental note to stay strictly even more professional with her.
“Is Bruno ready?” I ask her and she nods her head.
Two hours later, we are both dressed again and walking out of the vet clinic. Bruno was just waking up and the nighttime tech is going to be on duty all night long, making sure he’s okay. The minute I open the door, I see that not only is it still snowing, but there has been an accumulation of the snow. “Shit,” I swear. “This might be a storm.” The wind picks up as the snow blows into my face. “Get in the truck,” I tell her, opening my door and starting it before taking the snow brush out of my back seat. My fingers feel like they are frozen by the time I get back into the truck.
“My father just called, said they are expecting six inches of snow over the next twenty-four hours.”
“Oh fuck.” I look at her.
“Macy’s having a minor meltdown, and my uncle Matthew is on the phone trying to make sure we get a couple of chartered planes on standby.”
“Shit, we should hit up the grocery story now that we’re out. It might be a day before the roads are clear.”
I pull out and it takes me thirty-five minutes to drive the fifteen minutes to the grocery store. The two of us fill the basket with all sorts of things. We get home and the steps are covered in snow. “Go open the door,” I tell her as we get out and I reach into the back to grab the bags.
“I don’t know the code,” she tosses over her shoulder.
I close my eyes, knowing I’m going to have to give it to her. “It’s one, two, two, three, eighteen.” The minute I say the numbers, she looks over at me.
“What?” I pretend I don’t know what is going on.
“That,” she says, standing on the second step, “that’s the night we—”
I nod my head, not sure I want to have this conversation in the middle of the steps.
“We should get in there,” I tell her, avoiding looking at her as I pass her on the steps. “Whiskey has been in all day.”
CHAPTER 23
Elizabeth
LET IT SNOW! LET IT SNOW! LET IT SNOW!
I listen to him give me the code and then look over at him, not sure I’ve heard him right. “Did you say, one, two, two, three, eighteen?”
“What?” He pretends like he doesn’t know what is going on.
“That,” I say, my head spinning, “that’s the night we—”
He stands there on the second step nodding his head, the snow falling all around him, his feet buried in the snow as he holds the bags in his hands. “Whiskey,” he repeats what he said before, “it’s been a long day.”