Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“I guess they’re friends,” I add. But I don’t want to talk about my sister or other guys. I glance around the cottage. “You don’t like messes, do you?”
“I hate them,” he says, then scrubs a hand through his hair, messing it up—an incongruous move.
“Why?” I ask softly.
“I just like order. I like things the way I like them. I like to be able to control my environment.”
Earlier he said the situation with his parents splitting up was messy. That he had to step up. “Is that because there was a time when you couldn’t?”
He’s quiet at first, then sighs. But it’s not a frustrated sound. It’s more thoughtful, and so is his gaze as he says, “Definitely. The thing I told you earlier? In your truck?”
“Yes?”
“We had to move. Well, my mom wanted to, as well. But she definitely felt like she had to—to start over.”
“That must have been hard.”
“It was. For her.”
“And for you and your sister.”
Silence fills the space, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s necessary. He nods. “Yeah, for everyone. Guess that’s why I like things the way I like them.”
“I won’t tease you about being a neat freak then,” I say genuinely.
He stares me down. “But if you didn’t tease me, maybe I wouldn’t know it was you.”
There’s nowhere for this fizzy feeling to go, so I bottle it up. “What’s the eye mask for?”
“Tension,” he says with some vulnerability. “I was feeling it the other day.”’
“With me?”
He’s quiet for a beat, then sighs and nods. “Yeah. I was.”
That makes me happy, but it’s a futile happiness. “Did it help?”
“It did.” A pause. “Be sure to tell the owner that lavender works.”
“I’ll let her know,” I say, but I don’t want him to feel more tense. He already seems to carry a lot on his shoulders. “Good night, Banks. Don’t try to cuddle me while we sleep.”
“Don’t you try to cuddle me,” he fires back.
“I mean it.”
“You mean it like a challenge?”
“I dare you not to cuddle me.”
After he sheds his shorts, so he’s down to boxer briefs and a T-shirt, he flips to his other side, his big back to me. “Done.”
We turn off our bedside lamps. The cottage goes dark. Eventually, sometime later, we fall asleep.
I wake to his arms wrapped around me, his breathing steady against my neck, his body unbearably close to mine.
26
THE BIG, EXUBERANT SPOON
BANKS
Mmm, this is nice. Soft, warm skin. Sheets of silky hair. The first rays of sunlight drifting over our bodies. The last remnants of sleep fading away. Before I open my eyes, I drink in this floaty moment one more time. I breathe in—long and leisurely.
Yeah, this is better than nice. She smells like lavender and vanilla, and fresh laundry, and all my dirty dreams. There were a lot of them. A round-the-clock movie house playing in my brain all night long as she snuggled up against me. Wedged her body to mine. Murmured in the dark.
I burrow my face in the crook of her neck and wrap my arms a little tighter around her. This lovely, sexy, feisty woman is in my bed, out here in a cottage, far away from everyone else. Just us.
Except…whoa.
There’s a tongue on my face.
Lapping me from chin to cheekbone. Then a rattle of tags, and a needy whimper. A thumping tail, a rustle of sheets, then a quiet, “Good morning.”
My eyes fly open.
Fuckity, fuck, fuck, double fuck! I wrench away from Ripley and Hudson. Goddamn bed, goddamn dreams, goddamn hazy morning with this woman too close to me.
“I’ll take the dog out,” I blurt, then bolt out of bed in my boxer briefs and T-shirt and hustle to the door, the dog at my side, and my…
Great. Just great.
My morning wood is pointing the way.
Ripley chuckles from the bed. “Have fun walking him like that.”
“It’s fine,” I mumble, then spin around and head to my suitcase to grab a pair of workout shorts. I tug them on at the speed of sound as Ripley pushes herself up to her elbows, eyeing me with too much amusement.
“You sure it won’t be too hard?” she deadpans. “Walking him and all, I mean?”
“Won’t be,” I say but my dick is a traitor. He won’t stand down. Rude.
“True. If you get lost, though, just use your internal compass. Looks like it’ll point you back.”
I grit my teeth. “Built-in GPS.”
“Handy,” she says with a smile like she’s eating this up. “Just don’t bump into anything. You might break it.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“You do that. Flagpoles can be seriously dangerous.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
I grab the leash from the floor, then open the door. Hudson bounds ahead of me. As he waters a nearby patch of grass, I close my eyes, pretend I’m in yoga class, and find a mantra to deal with this situation.
I am letting go of the things that don’t serve me.