Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Bye, Uncle Beck,” Birdie says.
“See you later, peanut. Be good.”
“I’m always good,” she answers, then runs to Dani.
When they’re gone, I lock up behind them and turn to the sexy man watching me from across the room. “Hi.”
His lips twitch, and I slowly walk back to him, taking him in. His beard has been trimmed since yesterday, but it’s still just begging for my fingers. He’s in a red Henley, with the sleeves pulled up his forearms, showing off muscles and veins that make me go weak in the knees.
His jeans envelop his muscled thighs perfectly, and based on the way his hands flex in and out of fists at his sides and his hot gaze as he watches me, I’d say he wants to get those sexy hands on me.
And I wouldn’t tell him no.
“Stay the weekend with me at my farm.” His voice is rough as I close the distance between us and push my fingers into that beard.
“I don’t have an overnight bag.”
“We’ll stop and get your things,” he replies, his mouth hovering over mine. “Say yes, Irish.”
I’d say yes to just about anything when he calls me that.
“We’d like that.”
He brushes his lips over mine, gently this time. His hands land on my shoulders, then ghost up to frame my neck, his fingers in my hair, and it feels like little tiny fireworks explode up and down my skin.
“We’d better go,” he whispers against my lips.
“Okay.”
Beck follows me home, and the three of us bustle inside so I can pack up Riley’s and my things.
I only pack casual clothes and a few things that I don’t mind if they get dirty, given that we’ll be out in barns and on the ranch. With my bag packed, I take it to the living room and pass it to Beckett.
“I just have to gather Riley’s food and a bed and—”
“I already have that out there,” he informs me.
“You have his food?”
He shrugs. “I noticed which brand you fed him and picked some up on my way home yesterday. I also grabbed him a bed, bowls, and toys. He should be good to go.”
My mouth opens but then closes again because I’m not sure what to say.
“I know, it’s pushy.” His knuckle drifts down my cheek. “And if this weekend goes badly, you can take it all home with you and keep it. But I’m hoping you’ll want to spend a good amount of time out there with me.”
“I don’t think it’s going to go badly.”
He kisses my forehead, igniting more fireworks down my body.
“I don’t either. Let’s go, you two. I’m making dinner tonight.”
I look at Riley and give him the hand command to follow me.
“Do you want to take my SUV again for Riley?” I ask.
“Come see if what I did to the truck will work,” Beck replies, holding the door open for me.
I follow him down the steps, and when he opens the back door, my stomach clenches, and tears fill my eyes as I clamp my hand over my mouth.
“Beck.”
He’s taken the back seats out of the truck entirely, and in their place are two thick, plush industrial dog beds, side by side, so Riley will have a soft place to ride.
“Will this work?”
Before I can reply, Riley jumps into the truck, turns a circle, and then lies down in the middle of the space, letting out a satisfied huff.
“I guess it will, yes.” I shake my head and look up into his gaze. “Thank you.”
“I need our guy to be comfy.” He shuts the door, but before he opens my passenger door, he reaches up and brushes his thumb down my neck. “I need you to be comfortable, Irish.”
“I’m more comfortable by the minute.”
He winks and opens my door, then helps to boost me into the truck. He doesn’t shut the door right away. No, this cowboy buckles me into the seat belt, kisses my cheek, then shuts the door. He circles the hood and gets into the driver’s seat.
I let out a long breath, willing the butterflies in my stomach to calm the hell down.
I can’t help glancing over my shoulder to where Riley’s curled up, already snoring, in the back of the truck.
“I need our guy to be comfy.”
I shake my head. One date. We’ve spent such a short time together, yet he’s gone out of his way to ensure I feel safe. That my dog feels safe and welcome. It’s surreal and so unexpected.
“That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
He takes my hand and lifts it to his lips. I love how his whiskers feel against my skin as he presses soft kisses on my knuckles.
“Riley and I are buddies,” he says. “We have to look out for each other.”
I let him keep my hand as he drives us out of town to his property, and when he has to put a code in, and we wait for a gate to open, some of the tension leaves my shoulders.