Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
"This is Pork,” Ian points at the slightly overweight Dachshund, “and this is Beans," he then gestures to the black pot belly pig, our eyes meeting in a charged moment.
"They’re adorable." I chuckle, leaning down to give each of the animals a little scratch under the chin, my movements slow and deliberate, as Winnie sniffs them suspiciously. “And they have the perfect names.” Our laughter mingles, creating a shimmering current that binds us together.
“They came with those names.” He seems just as tongue-tied as I am. “A few years ago, my mom fostered them when their elderly owner died. My oldest brother, Beckett, fell in love with them, and the rest is history.”
When he steps close to me, Winnie chooses this moment to announce herself in her shrillest voice, which also happens to be her normal one. Ian jumps like he's the one who just got checked out.
"She’s definitely a little diva," he says, rubbing his ear.
She starts another round of howling, and I pick her up. Ian grins down at us, and I feel the crazy urge to drop everything and kiss him.
To control my urges, I bounce Winnie like the baby I always say she is, and the chaos around us reaches a nice level of cute. Beans grunts, Ian chuckles, Pork jumps, Winnie screeches, and I feel right at home. Just like the chaos of my third-grade classroom.
My stomach suddenly decides to cut in and growls loud enough to be heard above all the chaos.
"Would you like to grab lunch while these guys play?" Ian asks, pointing at the hot dog vendor in the parking lot.
“I’d love to,” I agree before I’m able to talk myself out of it.
He gives me the kind of look that turns my insides to goo. "Great."
There's nothing else to do but fall in step beside him and see where this goes.
Ian pulls up to his house with a confident flourish, and I follow closely behind, parking my own car next to his. As we step out into the blinding sunlight, it glints off the ranch-style facade, and I find myself awe-struck by its beauty. I hadn't realized Ian owned such a gorgeous home. Just as I pause, contemplating how far out of my depth all this is, Ian catches my hand and gently leads me forward into the open.
Winnie plants herself in the center like a furry demigod while the other animals orbit her in breathless loops.
I assure myself that there's no need to overthink this while Ian casually wraps his arm around my shoulders like he's claiming a treasure. Surely it isn’t as intense as it seems.
Inside, I'm a bundle of nerves, but I can't deny how perfectly right this moment feels. The chemistry between us is undeniable, and Ian's confidence only amplifies it. I decide to embrace the spark and let it take its course, eager to see where it might lead.
He smiles, warm and relaxed, like we do this every weekend instead of never. “Not too bad, huh?”
"It's fantastic," I declare, my voice steady and brimming with confidence.
He gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "They sure know how to break the ice, don't they?"
I take in Ian’s place, letting myself imagine where I might fit into this slice of his world. It’s got all the charm and then some, just as I expected. His big, pristine, grown-up house stretches out before me like a challenge, but I’m ready to meet it head-on.
I remind myself to relax. After all, I’m here to see what happens. We step through the patio doors, greeted by the raucous sound of dogs barking. Ian guides me into the delightful chaos, and I’m more than ready for it.
My eyes catch on Winnie, standing like a diva center stage. It doesn't take long for her Chihuahua ego to rise above the fray. She holds her tiny head high, letting the lesser creatures circle in submission. It's strangely calming to see my dog holding court. My hands find their way to my hips as I watch, trying to work the tension out of my body. Maybe this is doable.
“Welcome to the nut house,” Ian laughs.
The animals bounce off one another in a riot of fur and sound. Beans, the lazy pot-belly pig, is taking his sweet time sniffing every square inch of grass. Pork, on the other hand, is a blur of floppy puppy ears and excitement, his little paws slipping over the patio stones as he laps the space. It's chaos, but not the bad kind. The kind that makes me feel right at home.
“They’ll wear themselves out,” Ian chuckles, noticing my determined gaze.
I smirk, confident in my assessment. “Winnie’s definitely loving this.” My laugh is strong and assured, leaving no room for doubt.
“She's in charge either way,” Ian says, his voice sure and teasing, matching the confident ease of his body as he stands close to me. His impossibly blue eyes lock onto mine for a second too long, and I have to look away before I melt into a puddle of nerves and mush.