Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Only when he’s outside do I let my head hang and bring my wet hands up to my cheeks to cool them down. My face feels like it’s been set on fire.
“Lucy.” Emmett sticks his head inside the back door. “Set the table, yeah?”
“Okay.” She gets off the couch and comes over to me. I help her set the table and then put the salad in the middle.
I sit down in the chair on the opposite side of Emmett, who sits at the head, with Lucy beside him. “Did you guys choose a movie?” he asks when we finish eating.
“The Princess Diaries,” Lucy tells him. “You would hate it.”
“I would not.” He picks up his plate, but I put my hand on his.
“I have this,” I tell him. “Why don’t you take off?”
He looks at me, and then my hand on his, before he nods and goes back to his bedroom. Lucy helps me clean up and put the things in the dishwasher. When he comes back out, he’s wearing boots and he smells of his musky scent.
“I’m not going for long,” he says to Lucy. “I’ll probably be back before you finish the movie.”
“Okay,” she replies, walking to the couch.
“I’ve got her, and if there is anything, I’ll call you.” He looks at me and nods before he walks out of the house.
I glance at the ceiling before looking back at Lucy, who is watching me. “Shall we get this party started?” I ask, walking over to the couch, sitting down, and tucking my legs under me.
My phone beeps in my pocket, and I pull it out, seeing it’s Emmett.
Emmett: Just got here, everything okay?
Me: It’s been four minutes. House isn’t on fire yet.
Emmett: Smart-ass.
I don’t answer him. I put my phone to the side and watch the movie with Lucy, laughing half the time. An hour later, another text comes in.
Emmett: How’s it going?
Me: We just finished doing shots.
Emmett: Why are you such a pain in my ass?
Me: Because then you won’t be able to ignore me.
Emmett: Trust me, I could never ignore you.
I put the phone down when my stomach feels like it’s going to flip over. We finish the movie, and she yawns. “How about you take a bath and get ready for bed?” She doesn’t argue with me, and I look down to see it’s been an hour since his text.
Lucy comes out and says good night to me and goes back into her room while I turn to something on the television, lying down. I close my eyes for what feels like a second when I hear the sound of two truck doors slamming.
I get off the couch, not willing to let him see that I fell asleep while watching his daughter. I start to walk to the front door when it’s pushed open, and I see Bobby walking beside Emmett. “He’s good,” Bobby tells me, “just making sure that he—”
“I’m fine,” Emmett retorts, and Bobby quickly escapes, closing the door behind him. “I’m fine.” He tosses his keys on the table, and they slide off. I roll my lips not to laugh at him as he huffs and bends down to pick them up.
“You look fine,” I reply, noticing his eyes look different. He definitely smells like he’s had a couple of shots. “Why don’t you—” I point over my shoulder as he walks to the kitchen. He pulls open the fridge, grabs a bottle of water, and twists the top.
“How was tonight?” he asks, taking a big gulp from it, and all I can do is watch the way his Adam’s apple moves up, and I suddenly think that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. “Hello,” he says, putting the bottle on the counter and then stretching his other hand to the side.
I blink my eyes a couple of times. “It was fine, all good.” I clear my throat. “I was a bit cold, which is why I took the blanket.”
“Shit, you should have gotten a sweater from my room.” He turns to walk into his bedroom, and I stand here watching him. I close my eyes and shake out my hands when I hear him call my name, “Lilah.” I look toward the hallway to his bedroom, wondering if I should go to him or stay there. I’m debating when he calls my name again, “Lilah.”
I walk toward his dark room, my stomach feeling like it’s going to go into my throat, and the back of my neck feels like it’s burning. Getting to the door of his bedroom, I stop and take a deep breath before I walk in. He’s there in his bedroom, sitting on the side of his bed with a sweater in his hands. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He chuckles. “I got you a sweater.” He holds up his hand, and I nervously walk into the darkened room with the big king-sized bed in the middle of it. He fiddles with the sweater in his hand, and it falls. I bend to pick it up at the same time that he does. Both of us hold the sweater and are now face-to-face. “Hi,” he says softly.