Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I crack an eyelid. “It’s mortifying.”
Miles points to his chest. “This guy tackled you to the floor over a water gun.”
“That was pretty bad.”
“It wasn’t my finest moment. I’m still sorry about that.” He comes closer, warm eyes moving over my face.
The way he looks at me sends a thrill through me and makes my nipples peak. Again. Thankfully, this time they’re covered by layers of padding. Man, I must really be in need of some physical release if him looking at me has this kind of impact.
“Can I help you with anything?”
I’m grateful for the subject change. “You could toast the English muffins?”
“Sure thing.” Miles pops two into the toaster and grabs coffee mugs from the cupboard. “Normally I pour myself a bowl of cereal and feel pretty accomplished. I hope you’re not going to all this trouble for me.”
“Oh no, I always make breakfast. It’s my favorite meal. I would eat breakfast for dinner pretty much every day of the week if I could.” I pour the eggs into the frying pan. “Omelets are my number one because you can change it up by adding different things. And of course, waffles are delicious.”
“My stomach approves of all of this.” Miles grabs plates from the cupboard.
When the English muffins are ready, I pass him a slice of cheese for each muffin and fold a piece of ham between the egg before I slide those on as well.
We take our breakfast to the table, and because Prince Francis is clearly a fan of eggs, ham, and cheese, he keeps trying to join us, interrupting every attempt at conversation. Eventually I grab the water gun from the living room and set it beside my plate as a warning.
He plunks his butt down on the floor and glares up at me, obviously not impressed by my lack of sharing.
I cut off a chunk of cheesy egg and ham and drop it on the floor next to my foot. He gobbles it up and rubs himself on my leg, purring and happy again, meowing his gratitude.
“So fickle.” Miles chuckles and swallows his bite of egg sandwich. “He’s basically like a dog, isn’t he?”
“Why, because he’s begging for food?”
He motions to Prince Francis. “It’s exactly what my dog does whenever I have something he wants, which is all the time.”
“Wilfred is adorable,” I tell him. And huge. He’s the size of a small horse, but he has the temperament of a bunny.
“He’s a giant suck. And he really loves bacon. More than anything else. Except maybe the cookies from Woof It Bakery. He becomes a drool fest when I bring those home.”
“Is that like a dog café?”
“Yup, it’s down the block from my place. They have a dog park right next door, and they serve dog treats and coffee and drinks for owners. It’s his favorite place to go,” Miles tells me.
“You said your neighbors are taking care of him right now?”
“Yeah, Mark and Joe. They have a teacup poodle named Herman, and those two are the best of friends. Whenever I take Wilfred for a walk, I usually take Herman too. They’re like two little old men hanging out.” He pulls out his phone and shows me Wilfred’s social media account. Wilfred the Dane and his best friend the teacup poodle have countless pictures together. “He’s got more followers than I do by a significant margin.”
“Maybe if you posted more shirtless photos you’d have a bigger following,” I say, then take a huge bite out of my egg sandwich so I can’t say anything else embarrassing.
“Eh, I’m not really built for shirtless photos.” Miles runs his hand down the front of his shirt.
“Says who?” I arch a brow. I’d happily look at his shirtless chest all day long.
“I’m kind of wiry.”
“Who are you comparing yourself to? And there are lots of women who are fans of lean men. Personally, I’m not all that keen on guys who look like they could be the Hulk’s less green brother.”
“Oh no? You’re more a fan of the spaghetti arms?”
“You don’t have spaghetti arms. And I’ve seen you shirtless now, so I know exactly how nice they look.” I reach across and give his biceps a poke. “Maybe spending all that time around guys who work out for a living has skewed your view of what’s normal.”
“Most hockey players are tanks.” Miles’s lips twist to the side, and he drops his eyes, his cheeks flushing. I like that compliments have the same effect on him as they do on me.
“A tank is necessary when you’re headed for rough terrain, but I prefer sleek.”
“That’s good to know.” Miles grins.
And I realize I’ve spent the last few minutes telling him that I find him attractive.
“Anyway.” I wave a hand around in the air, as if that will erase this conversation. “With the next little while being a bit hectic for you with moving your mom, I wondered if you wanted me to switch you to my monthly plan instead? I know I sent you my schedule of fees in the beginning, but that was for short-term care, and maybe that’s changed a bit? If you want, I can put Prince Francis on a regular rotation, and it’ll be a bit more cost effective for you and your mom.”