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)
“You’re out here more than I am.”
“It isn’t healthy for most people,” he replies with a grin. “Skyla seems really nice. She’s beautiful.”
I narrow my eyes at him, and he laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m not being a dick, I’m just stating the obvious. When I met her last weekend, she seemed interested in what we do, and she looked at you like you hung the fucking moon.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m so glad you watched her so closely.”
Brad laughs again and pats me on the shoulder. “Go get some sleep, boss. We’ve got things handled out here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, okay. Oh, before I forget, I’ll be out of town for two days late next week.”
“Got it. No problem.”
I can tell by his tone that he means that, but it doesn’t quell my guilt that I’m not out here as much as I should be.
“You’re not a one-man show,” he says, obviously reading my mind. “You’re the boss. A good one, by the way. Now, go get some sleep. This is under control.”
“Thanks, Brad.”
Walking toward the house, I pull my phone out of my pocket. I’m so tired, and I need a solid six hours of sleep, but I also need to touch base with Skyla.
I haven’t seen her all fucking week. Texts and brief calls just aren’t enough. I want to see her, hold her, lose myself inside her.
It turns out that I’m an impatient man where Skyla’s concerned.
It’s still early, so I type out a quick text to her.
Me: Good morning, Irish. I hope you slept well. I can’t wait to see you tonight. x
My feet feel like lead as I trudge up the back steps and into the house. I should eat, but I’m just too tired.
And that’s when I see it.
On the counter is a brown paper bag with a note beside it. Eagerly, I snatch up the piece of paper and scan the pretty handwriting.
Beck,
I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in. Your back door wasn’t locked. I know that you won’t want to fix yourself something to eat before you sleep this morning, so I’ve grabbed a few pastries from The Sweet Shop for you. A small selection because I’m not sure what you prefer. Please, have a little something before you sleep.
I will see you tonight.
*heart* Irish
“Fuck me.” I read the note three more times before I set it on the counter and open the bag. There’s a muffin, a scone, and what looks like a whole loaf of some kind of bread. Without thinking, I take a bite of the muffin and moan.
Huckleberry lemon. So fucking good.
I wish she’d stayed. However, if I’d found the most beautiful woman in the world standing in my kitchen this morning, I never would have slept because I would have fucked the hell out of her all day long.
It’s probably best this way.
I type out another quick text as I take the stairs up to my bedroom.
Me: Thank you for breakfast. It was perfect. Sad I missed you.
With the muffin in my teeth, I strip out of my clothes and pad into the bathroom, turn on the shower, and then finish the treat in two more bites. The shower is short and sweet, and after drying off, I don’t bother to put on any clothes before I tumble into bed. I don’t even give a shit that the sun shines right in the window.
It won’t matter.
With thoughts of a redheaded Irish girl, I fall to sleep.
After a solid sleep, I feel human again and roll out of bed. It’s early afternoon, so I didn’t sleep the whole day away. I have plenty of time before I pick Skyla up.
I call Brooks.
“Yo,” he says.
“That’s a professional way to answer the phone at your place of business.” I grin and tie my shoe.
“You called my cell, asshole. What’s up?”
“My truck needs a quick oil change. Do you have any time this afternoon for me to stop by?”
“I actually do. Swing in, and I’ll handle it.”
“Be there soon.”
I hang up, grab my jacket, and head to the truck. I haven’t seen Brooks or any of my family in more than a week. We usually have family day on Sunday out at the ranch, but with Bessy sick and time with Skyla, we haven’t scheduled it.
Maybe next week, I’ll have everyone over, as well as my girl, and she can see what it’s like out there when we’re all in one place.
If she can survive that chaos, she’s up for anything.
I pull in behind one of the garage doors at Brooks’s garage, and it opens. Brooks waves me inside, and tells me when to come to a stop, and then I hop out of the vehicle.
He presses a button, and the truck starts rising in the air.