Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
There was a black pick-up truck parked in front of her house. I hoped she didn’t have company. Even though I still had my key and would have liked to sneak up on her, I knocked and waited.
She answered wearing the most gorgeous smile. “Simon! What are you doing here? I thought you were in London for a few more days?”
I responded by pulling her to me for the biggest hug. Although my heart was beating out of my chest still, a strange calm came over me while I held her. I imagined it was a lot like a junkie who took a hit after a long period of going cold turkey. A physical sigh rolled through my body. And God, she smelled incredible—like lilies and orchids. Oddly, until that moment, I wasn’t even sure I knew what those flowers smelled like. I took a long, deep breath in and out and then lifted her off of her feet before swinging her around in a circle. She giggled and it cemented my decision. This. This is the sign I needed.
“God, I missed you, Bridget.”
“I could tell. I think you might’ve broken a rib—you’re squeezing me so hard.”
“Oh. Shit. Sorry.” I reluctantly set her back down on her feet.
“It’s fine. I’m teasing. But what are you doing back so soon?”
“I have some pressing things I need to do.” You.
We were still standing in the doorway when something caught my eye over her shoulder—a man had walked into the kitchen. He was coming from the hall that leads to Bridget’s bedroom. My blood pressure shot up. I pointed with my chin. “Who’s that?”
Bridget turned. “Oh, that’s Nolan.”
“Did he just come from your bedroom?”
“Yes. I’ve had him locked up in there for two days. He’s doing some work for me.”
“Let’s go inside.” I wrapped my fingers around Bridget’s hip and guided her into the kitchen.
Nolan was probably a few years older than me—Bridget’s age, I’d guess. He was also pretty damn good looking—for an asshole.
“Nolan, this is Simon, my…” she hesitated. “…Simon was my tenant. He used to live here in the converted garage.”
Nolan’s eyes zoned in on the hand I had possessively holding her hip and then they lifted to meet mine. He extended his hand, which forced me to let go of Bridget. “Was? So you don’t rent it anymore?”
I ignored his question and gripped his hand in a shake that was so firm it bordered on assault. “What kind of work are you doing here?”
Bridget answered. “A pipe burst in the bathroom while I was at work a few days ago. It flooded through the wall of my bedroom. Nolan repaired the pipes and now he’s fixing up the wall that needs to be replaced. He was just finishing up for the day.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Umm. Because you were in London, Simon?”
“Well I’m back. So I can take care of whatever’s not done.”
Bridget stared at me for a long time. She knew exactly what I was not-so-politely trying to say. After our unspoken exchange, she turned back to Nolan with a full smile. “So, tomorrow morning, then?”
The asshat smirked. He looked at me and back at Bridget with a grin that I wanted to punch from his face. “Looking forward to it.”
While Bridget walked the predator out, I went to check out her bedroom. Sure enough, the entire wall that abuts her bathroom had been ripped out and new sheet rock was hung. There was dust all over the place, and the top of the Spackle bucket wasn’t even closed properly.
“What are you doing, Simon?” Returning to the bedroom, Bridget folded her arms across her chest in the doorway.
“Shutting the Spackle bucket so Asshat’s mud doesn’t dry up and you aren’t sniffing chemicals all night.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She looked annoyed for some reason. “I didn’t mean what are you doing at this moment. Clearly, I can see you’re shutting a bucket that was fine the way it was. I meant, what are you doing showing up here and acting like some sort of a jealous boyfriend?”
“Did you see the way that dick was looking at you?”
“That dick came highly recommended by your friend, Calliope, and he wasn’t looking at me inappropriately. He’s also charging me half the price that the other guy wanted.”
I scoffed. “That’s because he wants in your pants.”
“So what if he does, Simon? Why is that your concern, anyway? I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.”
This was nothing like I’d imagined our reunion going down. I was acting like a dick, but it was only because the thought of any man taking care of Bridget other than me made me insane. “I’m sorry. I’m protective of you. I was being a jerk.”
“Yes, you were.” Her face softened. “How was your trip?”
“It was…good. Exactly what I needed, actually.”