Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
I’m still pacing up and down my bedroom when the buzzer goes.
That was fast.
I press the button to let him up and lean back on my front door. My entire life, I’ve just let things happen to me. I ended up in hotel work because that’s where I had my first part-time job. I mooned over my best friend’s brother for years because he was the nearest teenage boy around. New York was about me making decisions for myself and not being so passive. Am I just repeating my mistakes?
But Deacon is far from convenient.
And I called him.
I want him.
A knock on the door makes me jump, and I turn and let Deacon inside.
His oh-so-blue eyes hold mine with such determination that it chases the breath from my lungs.
“Hey,” I say. “I wasn’t sure you’d be free.”
“You’re beautiful.” He steps forward and, in one swift movement, spins us round, cups my face, and presses his lips to mine. It’s needy and passionate, as if he’s been missing me as much as I’ve been missing him.
He steps back. “Hey,” he says. “It’s good to see you.” He’s wearing navy joggers and a white t-shirt that clings to his chest. His hair is ruffled, and he’s sporting his off-duty grin. He looks younger than when he’s wearing a suit, but just as sexy. But Deacon could wear a bin bag and look sexy. It’s who he is to his bones.
“That was quite some hello. Everything okay?”
“It is now I’m here with you.”
My body flushes with heat. “Same,” I say.
He chuckles. “Same?”
I shrug. “You know.” I’m awkward. I’m full of feelings for this man, but it’s all so unexpected and unusual that I don’t know how to express them.
He scoops up my hand and pulls me into the living room. I thought we’d head straight to the bedroom and I’m kinda disappointed. Okay, so maybe this was a booty call.
“I ordered pizza,” he says. “It will be here any minute.”
“Oh,” I say. “You took my invitation to eat pizza very literally,” I say with a smile, as I sit on the sofa.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he says. “I won’t spoil my appetite. I’m going to eat you too.” He shoots me a playful grin that has my insides doing somersaults. I know not many people see the fun, relaxed Deacon, and I feel special that I’m one of those people. It’s a privilege.
“How was work?” he asks.
“Good,” I say. Should I tell him about Avril and Poppy’s offer of the manager position? It was part of my week. A big part of my week.
“Good?” he says. “What was good about it?”
“Well, occupancy is up. And it’s staying consistent. Avril and Poppy seem to want to expand, which will create opportunities.” I try to sound casual.
“Expand? Like how does that work?”
“They want to open a hotel in Boston.”
He fixes me with a look. “Boston? Why Boston?”
“I think they used to have a hotel there. Or their brother did or something.”
“Oh, yes, Worth Huntingdon.”
“You know their brother?”
“Not well. We’ve rubbed shoulders at various events. New York is a big city and it’s a small city. Is Worth involved in the hotel?”
“Not in the management of it, but I think he has a share or something.”
The buzzer interrupts our conversation, and before I can move, Deacon jumps to his feet. He comes back with a tower of pizza boxes.
“I didn’t know what you’d like, so I ordered a selection.”
“You’re crazy.” I go and grab us some drinks and napkins from the kitchen. “Do you want any condiments—scratch that. I don’t have any condiments.” I feel like I’ve barely been in this apartment. I’ve either been working, with Deacon, or exploring New York.
“What do you fancy?” Deacon asks. “We have margarita, all the meats—”
“Actually, I have very specific requirements when it comes to my pizza toppings,” I say, as I sit down next to Deacon. Our thighs and arms touch as he leans forward and flips open a box.
“Tell me about your specific requirements. Do you like meat, Aurora?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.
“I like your meat,” I say, and he chuckles. “But not on my pizza.”
“Yeah, that would be…weird and alarming.”
“I like peppers,” I say.
“Oh, you’re a veggie girl.”
“Not generally, but yes, when it comes to my pizza, I’m all about the vegetables. For health reasons.”
He laughs and shuffles through the boxes, pulling one out from the bottom and placing it on top. “Yeah, that teaspoonful of vegetables on your pizza is further proof that it’s good for you.” He opens the box. “Here. Peppers. Just for you.” He pulls out a slice and holds it up to my lips, like he’s going to feed me.
All of a sudden I feel self-conscious. I sweep the feeling away and take a bite and try not to laugh at the way he’s staring at me eat.