Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“No tempting me back to bed.” There was no real force behind my protest because I’d happily give in if he pushed. I’d had more sex in the last week than in the several years prior, and it was like that first week of true spring up here in the mountains. Time to unpeel the layers of coats and hats and bask in the sun. Tamping down my sex drive for such a long personal winter made me that much more thankful for every encounter with Ambrose.
“Fine. Spoil my fun.” Ambrose sighed with pretend frustration. “After we do the dishes, I could read another chapter of our book while we hang out in the hammock.”
The hammock was also new. But as welcome as Ambrose himself. As was his surprising talent for reading aloud. Rather than mess with the TV our first night at the cabin, Ambrose had found one of the early Poirot mysteries, and we were currently midway through, thanks to him reading while I did various odd jobs or while we hung out on the deck or in the hammock. We had plans to watch one of the film adaptations of the original Agatha Christie stories when we finished this one.
Cozy. Everything was so damn cozy. I almost couldn’t stand it, yet I also wanted this time to never end.
“Tempting. So tempting. But rain is coming in tonight. I need to check the roof over, make sure there are no signs of damage from the last big storm to come through when I wasn’t here. We don’t want any leaks, especially not in the middle of the night.”
“Yes, wet sheets would be quite the disaster.” Ambrose grinned, knowing full well we’d already had to do laundry once.
“Hush.” I adopted a mock scolding tone which only made him laugh more.
“Fine, show me to the ladder.”
“You’re coming up on the roof?” I blinked.
“Well, you’ll have to talk me through any repairs, but I’ve at least used a hammer before.” Standing, he collected our now-empty plates and mugs. I tilted my head, studying him closely, not sure I bought his eagerness for this chore.
“Not scared of heights?”
“Now you sound like Cressida.” He shifted the plates so he could wag a finger at me. “You don’t have to protect me from myself. Heights aren’t one of my triggers. I loved roller coasters as a kid. Besides, I haven’t had a single panic attack since we arrived.”
“True. Guess I can put you to work.”
“You can.” He nodded firmly. “We can put the dog in that old paddock that used to house goats or whatever, keep him out of trouble.”
“He’d probably like pretending to be a goat.” Chuckling, I followed Ambrose inside, taking the time to steal a kiss before we did the dishes.
Later in the morning, after a few more kisses, we finally headed outside. While Hercules ran around in the empty small animal enclosure, I gathered our tools and the ladder.
I wasn’t the craziest about letting Ambrose come up on the roof with me, but I figured the potential confidence boost was worth me being uneasy. I did make him wear a pair of my steel-toed boots and work gloves. He added a flannel shirt he’d found in one of the closets. I kept grinning at how very un-Ambrose he looked, and yet completely right, even without his usual expensive wardrobe.
“What?” he asked as I placed the ladder, unable to hold back a chuckle.
“You. You make a cute hipster lumberjack. You look like you belong in Portland or Brooklyn.”
“Ha. But I like being a cute lumberjack. I’ll take it as a compliment. Maybe I’ll leave the shirt on…” His flirty tone only made me smile wider.
“Oh? You wanna play two lumberjacks snowed in up in the mountains later? I’ve seen porn with that plot.”
“Me too.” His cheeks colored.
“We’ll make our own later.” I winked to see if I could make his blush deepen. Yup.
I steadied the ladder, then let him climb up first. We started on the lowest section of the roof, over the porch, moving our way up carefully. After I showed him the type of damage we were looking for, we worked in companionable silence for a time.
At one point, he got close to the edge of the back porch roof, and my heart lurched. Right as I opened my mouth, he backed off.
“Close one.” He sounded proud of himself for recognizing the danger, but it took a bit for my pulse to recover. He finished checking the lower section I’d assigned him, but rather than climb down, he sat back on his heels, surveying the property beneath us.
“This view is simply stunning.”
“Yup,” I agreed, gazing down at him, not out at the mountains. The noon sun caught his hair, turning the silver strands to gleaming precious metal and his eyes to twin jewels. Jewels? What the fuck, Harley? Was I about to start writing bad poetry just because Ambrose made me feel…