Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“Fine,” she agrees and I don’t know why I feel like jumping up and tapping my heels together. “Why don’t you call me when you guys get back on Friday, and we can set up a time and a place to meet?”
“If it’s easier, I can pick you up or you can come here and leave your car here.” I give her different options instead of saying what I really want to say, and that is, I’ll pick you up.
“Might be easier to just leave my car at your house. Now that I start work in less than a week, I have to get my ass into gear.” My cock springs to life when I picture her ass. “Okay, I’m excited,” she says gleefully. “Have a good trip.”
“I’m sure I’ll talk to you while I’m there,” I mention hopefully. “If not, I’ll speak to you on Friday.” I reluctantly hang up the phone and call Kylie right away.
“Hello,” she answers after two rings, “you’ve reached Kylie, who is busy—” I laugh when she pretends to be her answering machine.
“Hey,” I cut her off mid-sentence, “she’s taking the job.”
“Lexi?” she asks me.
“No, the mayor of Munchkinland.” I roll my eyes. “Yes, Lexi.”
“Wow, someone chose violence today,” she hisses. “No one likes a smart-ass, Kirby.”
“Noted.” I grin. “Now, she starts on Monday, so be ready.”
“Are you going to bring her in beforehand to introduce her?”
“Nah, I’m leaving tomorrow and I’m only back on Friday. She’s taking the job under one condition.”
“Do I even want to know? Will my ears bleed?”
“I ride a roller coaster with her.” She gasps so loud my ear hurts.
“You hate those,” she reminds me.
“I know.” I shrug. “But how bad can it be? I can close my eyes and think of my happy place.”
“I honestly do not want to know what your happy place is. That’s a no for me.” I hear the sound of her pretending to vomit.
“That is not my happy place.”
“Oh please, then what is?” The way that question is followed with probably an eye roll makes me almost burst out laughing.
“My house. Sitting on the beach.” I start to name a couple of things and she groans.
“Okay, this therapy session took a nosedive. I will have everything set up for her to start on Monday. It’ll be good.” She snickers. “Try not to die on that death trap.” I groan out and just hang up the phone before I rub my hands over my face.
“The things I do for you, Lexi,” I mumble. “The things I do for you.” I look out the window and start the countdown until I get to see her.
I sit on the steps outside in the front, waiting for her to arrive. She texted me twenty minutes ago, telling me she was on her way. I spot her SUV from the distance and get up to my feet with the gate open for her to drive in. I can’t help the smile that fills my face when I see her. She has her hair down and is wearing a pair of gold-rimmed aviator glasses. I walk over to the driver’s side door and pull the handle. “Hi,” I say, trying to contain how happy I am to see her.
“Hey,” she greets, taking off her glasses and giving me her eyes. “How excited are we?” she asks me, reaching over to the passenger side and grabbing her blue crossbody purse.
“On a scale of one to a hundred”—I move out of the way so she can come down—“it’s at a minus ten.” She shakes her head. “Which is a lot better than this morning when I almost cancelled.”
“You didn’t,” she says and closes the door and I take in her outfit. She’s wearing a pair of loose, light-blue jeans, with a long-sleeved white top, her midriff showing off her tanned skin. But it’s the sneakers on her feet that have me gawking. My eyes go back to her midriff and the hint of skin she’s showing.
“I’m sorry if I’m staring,” I apologize in advance. “I didn’t think you owned jeans or sneakers.” She smirks.
“Let’s just say that I got a refresher in my clothing department.” She puts the crossbody around her top. “I still have stuff for work, but I have a lot more casual me clothes.”
“Well, you look good in anything,” my mouth says before I can stop it, “but I really like you in the jeans.”
“Thank you, and you look comfortable.” She takes in my outfit of black joggers and a long-sleeve white shirt that is pushed up to my elbows.
“Figured if I throw up, this will absorb more than jeans,” I answer her honestly. “You ready to go so we can get this over with?”
“It’s okay to not be okay,” she tells me. “I’m so excited.”
“Well, at least one of us is,” I mumble as I walk over to my own SUV and open the door for her. “After you.”