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)
Winnie lets out a bark, demanding her human's attention. Ian shoots her a grin. “Already tired of my boys?” he asks with a wink, causing my heart to race.
We’re standing side by side, closer than I’m used to, and it’s thrilling and terrifying all at once. Ian starts in on the animals’ personalities like he’s introducing a bunch of unruly nephews.
“Beans is the philosopher,” he declares, pointing at the pot-belly pig who’s decided a patch of dirt is worth contemplating. “Doesn’t like to move unless he has to.”
Pork barrels into Beans, the little dog’s legs a blur beneath him. “And that’s Pork. Still figuring out what gravity is.”
Winnie deigns to join them, huffing and snorting her disapproval. She shoots me a look that says, These barbarians? Really? Ian chuckles and gives her a nod of approval. I can’t help but laugh at the heartwarming scene.
“Yeah, they’re real characters,” I say, my voice steadier than it was. I keep expecting to wake up like this whole thing is a sweet but impossible dream.
“Your boys seem to love Winnie.” I laugh at the silliness before us.
“They’ve got good taste in friends,” Ian replies, shooting me that killer smile. I feel a jolt in my chest that makes me wonder if my heart can take much more of Ian Hot.
Ian stretches an arm over my shoulder, pulling me into him as we watch the animals play. It feels easy, almost like we’ve been doing this for years. Which scares me more than it should. His closeness is a constant, distracting heat against my side, and I resist the urge to lean into his hold.
“Crazy, isn’t it?” he asks, motioning to the pack of fur and energy.
I don’t know if he means the dogs or us. Maybe both. “I’d say that’s an understatement.”
Ian kisses me then, fiercely and unexpectedly, his lips ablaze with confidence. I'm thrown into a whirlwind, trying to process the intoxicating surge of emotions. He pulls back and lays his forehead against mine, leaving me speechless as I gaze up at him, captivated by the intensity in his eyes. Astonished by how much I revel in it.
Being here with him is everything I never knew I wanted. Ian makes a casual, joking comment about moving me in by the end of the weekend, and I nearly swallow my tongue. But it’s not like he’s asking; he’s saying it like he already knows, which should bother me more than it does.
The animals give us a break in the tension by tumbling past, snapping the silence with their little drama. Winnie leads the pack in her usual imperious, untouchable style as if she’s known these boys forever. It’s a big comfort. It means maybe I can, too.
Ian keeps an arm around me as we laugh at their antics. Every minute makes this feel less crazy and more... inevitable.
As the night comes to an end, I'm not quite ready to leave, even though I can sense how quickly things are progressing. Ian insists on following me home to ensure I make it safely.
When I park in front of my apartment, he pulls up behind me and waits, watching protectively until I make it through the door.
I cruise through Riverbend Ridge with the radio blaring, and right on cue, my phone trills its nagging ring. I swipe to answer, already hearing my mother’s voice, high and determined, over the speaker. “Why haven’t you told us about the new woman in your life?”
I keep my eyes on the road, dodging her meddling with a gruff, “It’s all new, Mom. I’ll introduce her when the time is right.”
She tsks, unconvinced, and insists, “You’d better keep me updated, young man.”
I chuckle, relenting, “I promise, Mom. You’ll be the first to know.” She huffs, satisfied for now. I hang up, shaking my head.
She has the tenacity of a rescue dog with a squeaky toy, and I chuckle as I pull into the corner florist, an overgrown patch of color in an otherwise sleepy block.
In the florist shop color explodes from every surface as I glance around seeing a tangled mass of flowers in every shade. I’ve never seen a place so messy and so meticulously perfect at the same time. I head straight for the wildest bouquet I can find, something that screams Sage . A guy in a red apron hovers nearby, offering help, but I wave him off with a confident smile.
I picture her reaction when I hand over the flowers, hoping to see those huge blue eyes light up and hear her teasing laugh. The thought knots in my stomach, but I twist it into excitement, convincing myself I’m playing it cool. Her face flashes in my mind, and I grip the bouquet a little tighter, feeling my nerves kick up a notch. Sage fucking owns me, heart and soul and I don’t want to fuck this up.