Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“What are you doing? Why are you in my shower?” I ask with a shaky breath, the adrenaline of the moment finally catching up with me.
Greer is shirtless. The water is running down his torso, highlighting his six-pack and the happy trail of hair that disappears into his blue jeans.
Before I can ask any questions, Greer swipes at his face again. He’s still squinting. He shakes his head like that might magically clear his vision. “I have paint in my eyes. I can’t see a fuckin’ thing.”
“Do your eyes feel better?” I ask nervously as Greer leaves Cash’s clinic. He has an eye patch on his right eye and a pair of sunglasses on top.
He stumbles on the step, and I instinctively reach out to help him. I put my hand on his arm and guide him toward his truck.
After finding Greer in the bathroom, I called Martha. She recommended that he keep rinsing his eyes for another twenty minutes then come to the office to get checked out.
I drove him here in his truck, and I’ll drive him back to his family’s farm.
“Still burning,” he says weakly. He gropes for the door handle.
I quickly reach around him and open the door, feeling my chest brush against his arm. He smells so good. The notes of his cologne are doing something funny to my insides. Making me want to push up against him and kiss him.
“Um, there you go,” I mutter, taking a step back. I can’t be thinking like this. The cowboy is injured. He doesn’t need me jumping his bones.
I make sure he’s settled in the passenger seat before I move around to the front. As soon as I’m in, his truck seats try to automatically adjust again. I have to jam the button to stop it. I’m so much shorter than he is.
Despite all the chaos that was happening, Greer had me dial his brother on the phone. He explained the situation and demanded he get over there and fix the apartment. Noah texted Greer a few minutes ago to say the plumbing issues had been resolved and the painting job was finished. The place is ready for me to move into now.
I love that Greer was so focused on making sure I was taken care of. Even when he was in pain and uncomfortable, he put me first. He is a good man, and maybe if things were different—no, I can’t let myself think like that.
He clears his throat, interrupting my thoughts. “Can you tell me something honestly?”
My heart pounds at his question. “I’ll be as honest as I can.”
“Did you take a peek at the good stuff?” I glance at him, and he gives me a crooked grin. “When I was without my shirt.”
I chuckle as the thoughts of his perfect chest invade my mind. He was so big, his body covered in thick, dark hair. I wanted to touch him all over. “Don’t worry. I liked what I saw.”
He’s quiet for a moment, the tips of his ears turning red. “So then go out with me.”
I keep my tone light, teasing him. I hate what happened to him today, but I’m glad I got to spend time with him this afternoon. “Is this how you get dates?”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t date. There’s only you.”
My heart melts at his words. Only you. I want to tell him yes. I want to say that he can pick me up tomorrow for dinner. But I know what happens next. Everything will be fine for a few weeks or months then he’ll decide I’m more trouble than I’m worth. “I can’t.”
Without waiting for his response, I reach for the radio and turn up the music. We spend the rest of the drive to the Maple Farm in silence. It’s not an awkward silence. It’s just the silence of an impasse.
Eventually, Greer will find a nice girl. He’ll flirt with her, and she’ll fall for his easy charm. They’ll have a million inside jokes together and make pretty babies. The thought has me stomping on the brakes harder than necessary when I pull up into his driveway.
His home is a beautiful farmhouse with white siding. The wraparound porch has two rocking chairs on it with a bright red table between them. It looks cheerful and inviting. Is this where he’ll spend his nights, talking to his pretty wife about her day and doting on their kids?
“Wow,” I whisper slightly awed. “This is exactly what a home should look like.”
“Built it myself.” His chest puffs out at the admission. He feels for the door handle then turns back to me. “My whole life nothing I’ve wanted has ever come easy.”
I think of my life and how complicated it is. “I get it.”
Greer shakes his head. “You don’t understand. I’m not trying to get you to feel sorry for me. I’m putting you on notice. I’m coming for you, Evie.”