Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Shaking my head at myself, I slipped out of the bedroom and hurried downstairs.
Richelle sat at the table in the kitchen, sipping coffee, her plate half-empty of French toast. She looked up as I strolled in and smiled warmly. Bandit had been sitting at her side, but he dashed across the room to greet me. He really was a beauty. And he’d been responsible for shoving Chris into me upon our arrival, so I had him to thank for that delightful moment.
At my exuberant greeting, Bandit got excited and jumped up, putting his paws on my shoulders in order to lick my face. I burst into a fit of giggles, trying to avoid his kisses and not stumble under his weight.
“Bandit, get down!” Richelle yelled, laughter in her voice.
The dog obeyed, and I shot her a grin.
“He didn’t get you, did he?”
“Nope, but not for want of trying.”
“He likes you.”
“He’s friendly.”
“Not with everyone, believe it or not. He must sense something about you, like I do.”
That was so nice. “Thanks,” I murmured, warmed by the comment.
I had to admit I’d been nervous about meeting Chris’s aunt, even more so when we pulled up to this beautiful house. But I shouldn’t have been. Richelle was as down-to-earth as her nephew. I wondered, however, if she’d be as nice and forgiving as Chris was about the videos if she knew.
“Let me get you a coffee and some French toast.”
“No, I can do it,” I tried to insist, but she ignored me.
“Just sit down and help yourself to some orange juice.”
Since I was parched, that sounded like an excellent idea. “Thank you.”
“Is that Chris’s shirt?”
I gave a huff of laughter. Of course she’d notice that. “Yeah, he left it outside my room for me.”
“That sounds like Chris. He’s always been an incredibly considerate person.”
I think he’s wonderful and sexy and complicated and beautiful and so smart I’m pretty sure he’d fascinate me until the day I die. “Yeah, he’s great.”
“It’s amazing to me you’ve only known each other such a short time. He’s so comfortable around you. You seem like you’ve been friends your whole lives.”
I couldn’t meet her gaze, instead I stared out the window to avoid it. “It seems that way to me too. Where is Chris?”
“Out jogging.”
I looked back at her. “Seriously?”
Richelle chuckled. “Seriously. He runs on the beach every morning whenever he’s here.”
“He’s big into his fitness, huh?” Damn, I was so not into working out.
“It’s a part of him. He’s had to be physically fit for his career most of his life. Hard habit to break. I don’t know where he gets the motivation. I like long walks, but that’s about as energetic as it gets for me. Plus, I like my hearty breakfasts, and I’ve been blessed with a good metabolism. Chris has a treat now and then, but he had a green smoothie before he went for his run.” She made a face.
My expression fell. “I’m so not a green smoothie, working-out kinda gal.” I bet Darcy was.
Richelle shrugged. “We’re all made different, I guess. That makes life beautiful.”
We chatted a little as she made French toast, and I dove on the food like a wolf, even though the thought crossed my mind that maybe I should try harder to eat more healthy. The French toast just tasted so good.
Richelle chuckled and took the seat opposite me. “Hungover?”
I swallowed, giving her a sheepish smile. “Not really. I’m just always so hungry the morning after drinking alcohol. Thank you for hosting me.”
“You don’t have to thank me again. I’ve loved having you here. I like the way my nephew is around you.” Her gaze was penetrating.
I felt the blood heat under my cheeks. “I hope I can plan a party he’ll like. He doesn’t really seem that into the idea.”
“I may have talked him into it. But I’m sure whatever you do, he’ll love.”
I gave her a grateful nod, and we talked a little about the painting she was working on as I ate. Someone had commissioned her to paint a portrait, which wasn’t her usual style, as she loved working on landscapes, but the client was a big fan. I could see why. Richelle used a palette knife to paint, so her work had texture and a vivid sense of movement that was truly appealing.
It seemed there was an unending well of smarts and talents in the family.
We heard a door open and shut, and a few seconds later Chris walked into the kitchen via the laundry room. His hair was windswept, his cheeks flushed, and his shirt stuck to him with perspiration.
My belly flipped low and deep.
Oh boy.
Bandit dove at him first, and Chris showered him with attention before striding over to us. “Morning.” He grinned at me. “You sleep okay?”
I struggled to find my voice for a second. “I . . . I uh, I slept great.”