Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 135539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
August pauses and meets my eyes. “I do look good naked. But eventually—”
“I meant, well, you don’t like your house. And we mostly stay here. You could bring your stuff over if—”
The careful expression erupts into a wide smile, and he grabs my hand to press it against his chest. “Penny love, are you asking me to move in with you?”
“Umm . . .”
Brows knit as he gives me a stern look. “Don’t mess with my heart here, Sweets. Tell me that’s what you’re saying.”
Beneath my palm, his heart beats a rapid tattoo. And I know this means as much to him as it does to me. I exhale deeply and press my hand more firmly against him. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. I miss you when you leave, and I don’t sleep as well. I don’t care if it sounds clingy.”
His eyes light up. “Cling all you want, Penny love. I can take it.”
Before I can say another word, he rolls me over, bracketing my head with his arms, and kisses me until I’m weak and dazed. “I was going to ask the same, you know,” he says against my lips.
It takes me a moment to focus. “Really?”
“I’m gone so much, when I’m home, I want home to be where you are.”
“Oh, my.”
“I know.” He gives me a cheeky look. “I would have won major points. But you’ve gone and messed it up by asking me first.” His head shake is dramatically aggrieved.
I brush back his hair. “Somehow I think you’ll survive.”
August answers by kissing me again. Soft, luscious kisses. Like I’m priceless, precious, his.
“We’re going to be so happy here,” he says.
“Just remember who asked first.”
Thirty
Pen
“No, I think you should use that shot.” Monica’s glossy red nail points to the picture I’d taken of the guesthouse from an angle that shows the whole bottom floor bathed in golden November light. “Then these of the pool.”
When we first hung out, she told me to think smarter and use what I have. More easily said than done, but I finally have an idea.
We’re putting together an information packet in my new venture to pull in some extra cash. Last week, August filmed a commercial for a cellular service company and had offhandedly mentioned that they rented a huge house up the coast by the hour for the shot.
I did a little research and was shocked to see how much locations charged—and earned—for a couple hours’ rental. Seeing as I have an idyllic location myself, I’m going to offer the same. Not all over the house, but the grounds and guesthouse are up for rent on a limited schedule. Just enough to cover taxes.
August heard of my plan and offered up his place as well. “Might as well. I’m never there anymore.”
“But it’s your house,” I’d argued.
He’d merely shrugged. “You do the legwork, find the bookings and whatnot. And we’ll split the fee fifty-fifty.”
While I think I’m getting the better part of the deal, Monica had agreed with August that it was not only fair, but it was also a great idea. His house will earn more than enough to keep me in the black.
If I can get the word out there and book both places with good consistency.
“This is great,” Monica says, peering over my shoulder. “I’m about to throw a lot of bookings your way.”
I rest my head on her shoulder briefly. “You’re the best, you know?”
Her teeth flash behind crimson lips. “I do.”
When I pull up another picture, she gives me a happy kiss on the head. “This is good. But I still think you should keep up with the design ideas.”
I’d been giving her ideas for her beach house, and it’s been an interesting experience. So many times in my life, I’ve felt an antsy kind of urge deep in my belly. The need to create but no outlet for it. I filled it with watching movies, reading books, sketching interiors every once in a while. It never helped.
Working with Monica felt different. All that twitchiness inside eased a little more.
“I’m looking into taking some design courses.”
“That’s great!” She wraps an arm around my shoulders and squeezes. “But you’re still helping me with my house, right?”
“Just don’t blame me if you don’t like it, okay?”
“Ha! I’ll just have us start all over again.”
“Pazzo.”
“Loca.”
Laughter erupts but then my phone reminder chimes.
“The game.” I set aside the laptop and grab the remote.
“You have it scheduled on your phone? I’m impressed.”
“I’ll forget otherwise. Is that bad? Should I have them memorized?”
With an eloquent snort, she waves a hand. “Girl, please. You’re watching, aren’t you? It’s not like you have to do that.”
“So you don’t have their schedule memorized?”
She fiddles with the fringe on her leather wrap skirt. “Eh.”
“Oh, my God, you do!”
“Well . . . yeah.” Her nose wrinkles in embarrassment. “This is my first long-term relationship. The others lasted a few months tops and then . . . poof! Done. I’m trying to be supportive.”