Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
I breathed a sigh of relief as he finished explaining his decision not to cheat, and then thought of something that, for some reason, was really important to know right then.
“Did you get along with your father-in-law?”
Would you get along with my father? I have a feeling you would.
He nodded. “Her father was in the army before he made his millions. He liked me the minute I decided to enlist in order to support my new family. Once I got out, he helped me get my business—by paying for it. He’s one of the best men I know. We still go for a beer once or twice a week if we can manage it.”
I was surprised by that answer. I honestly would’ve thought that a father would’ve sided with his daughter.
“Did your father-in-law get back at you by taking your business back?” I wondered.
Coke shook his head. “No. He really hates his wife, Amadea, and Beatrice. He thinks they’re stuck-up shits and doesn’t really want anything to do with them. Unfortunately for him, he made his millions after he and Amadea were married, so he knew that he wouldn’t be able to walk away from the marriage unscathed. Since he doesn’t want to give her half of everything he owned, he stays with her, but he makes it more than clear that he wants nothing to do with either one of them. Apparently, I was what made it tolerable to be around his daughter.”
Hearing that he liked his father-in-law made me happy. It also gave me hope that maybe he’d get along with my father…hopefully.
Coke grunted as he opened his door and got out.
I pushed my door open and would’ve stepped out, but a puddle the size of an area rug stopped my descent.
I turned around and closed the door, crawling over the center console to his side—only to be met by the same damn puddle.
He started to laugh, then turned and gave me his back. “Hop on.”
I looked down to see his dirty work boots about four inches deep in the puddle, then surveyed the way that the puddle spread out even farther than it did on my side, making it impossible to get down without soaking my feet.
Which was why I did what any normal woman would do. I climbed on his back and held on.
The ride only took a few seconds, but it was enough to change my world.
After I was safely ensconced on his back, he put two large hands on the backs of my thighs and backed up enough to be able to shut the door. Once it was closed, he walked until we were standing in front of the entrance, and then he slowly let me slide down his body.
I found during my slow descent, that his booty was really, really firm.
And he had a big one.
Not a fat one, mind you—but a big one. One that actually had some meat to it—literally.
I wondered idly, as my feet found traction, whether he did a shit ton of squats to get an ass like that—or if it just came naturally to him.
Regardless, it was impressive either way.
“Do you come here a lot?” I questioned, trying to hide my appreciation of his ass.
“A lot,” he admitted. “Since my girl went to college in January, I’ve been on my own. I have no reason to cook for just one, so I eat out a lot. And since there’s not much to choose from in this town, I eat here and at the gas station quite a bit.”
That…sucked.
“You don’t know how to cook for one?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I mean, I have frozen food and shit.” He opened the door for me, and I slipped between the small gap between his body and the door. My ass brushed something hard, and I tried really hard not to think too closely about what it was that I touched.
“You can cook one chicken breast. You can cook one steak. You can cook one box of macaroni.” I paused. “It’s not that hard.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I just don’t want to cook.”
I made a mental note that next time I cooked, to do it for two. That way, he’d be able to eat it that night, or he could save it for the next day. That way, he didn’t have to eat out so much.
Eating out, while good tasting, wasn’t good for you.
I’d found that out the hard way when my diet had caused me to have attacks that felt like my heart was exploding—which I later learned was due to gallstones in my gallbladder.
Although okay now that I’d had it removed, I was super careful about how I ate. Meaning, I didn’t go out to eat all that often, and when I did, I chose things that were low on grease.
Now, my healthy eating flew out the freakin’ window when it was that time of the month. For a solid week, I ate like complete and utter shit, and there was nothing I could do about it.