Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
"You want to help?" She arches a brow at me, looking at me like I've lost my mind. "I thought you said your job ended when my workday did."
"I did, but your workday clearly isn't over." I'm guessing her workday rarely ever ends if she's running this operation by herself. She probably works herself to the bone trying to do it all. Her shop may be new, but it was busy all day. People in town love that she's selling local water. It's a huge hit. And the fact that she's made it available online means she isn't just selling to locals through her shop. She's got online customers, businesses, and God only knows who else she has to worry about too. "Teach me how to work Betty."
"You want to operate Betty?"
"There you go again with the surprise." I turn her toward the machine, tapping her on the ass. "Less of that. More instruction, Firefly. We've got shit to do."
For the next two hours, she loads bottles into the front-end of the machine, and I haul full bottles off the other end. By the time we shut down the machine, we've amassed a mountain of full bottles, and I'm fucking exhausting. It's back-breaking work.
I'm in awe of the fact that she's been doing this shit by herself for the last three months. As soon as she's mine, I'm hiring someone to help her. There's no way she should be doing this alone every day. I'm three times her size and my arms feel like Jell-O.
"Wow." She gapes at the mountain of full bottles. "I've never gotten that many done at a time before. Sam and Ethan are going to hate me this weekend."
"Sam and Ethan?"
"The kids who label and package," she says, smiling over at me. "Thank you, Callum. It would have taken me all week to get this much done on my own."
"You can thank me by taking your sexy ass in the house and soaking in a bubble bath, Firefly." I prowl toward her before dragging her into my arms to steal a kiss. I can't help it. Her cheeks are flushed. Tendrils of hair stick to her face where she's all sweaty. She's too fucking beautiful.
Her arms wind around my neck as she anchors her body to mine. I palm her curvy ass, trying to get my fill while I can since I already know she isn't going to let me sleep in her bed tonight. She'll kick my ass if I even suggest it. But that's what I want…for her to fall asleep in her arms, her head on my chest.
I'm falling hard. I didn't even stand a chance with her. She appeared naked in her shop and pulled the rug out from under me. I landed flat on my back, staring up at heaven. Didn't know it was five-foot eight with honey and cinnamon hair, ocean eyes, and curves for days. But it looks like that's exactly where my heaven begins and ends. With her.
"Callum," she whispers against my lips, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck. "You have to stop kissing me. You're going to get me addicted."
'That's the plan, Firefly."
"I knew you were going to say that."
"Do you want me to slow down?"
"I…No," she says, her voice a mere scrap of sound. "Just don't let me fall. Please?"
"We'll fall together, Firefly." I glide my nose against hers, groaning at how intimate it feels. "And when we land, you'll land in my arms. Deal?"
"Okay," she whispers, her breath sweet against my lips.
I kiss her again before reluctantly pulling back. We exit the shop together, her hand in mine. "Tell me about the oil company that's been hounding you about buying the property."
"How do you know about that?"
"Dillon told me."
"Of course he did," she mumbles, making me smile. She's not really annoyed with him. I just don't think she likes not being in control. She's been on her own for far too long. She doesn't know what it means to let herself be cared for. She's used to calling the shots and doing it all on her own.
"Tell me about them, Firefly."
"What do you want to know? They've been after the land for years, but I promised my granny that I wouldn't let them have it. I guess they thought I'd be easier to convince than she was," she says with an indelicate snort. "Their annoying little henchman quickly learned that isn't the case."
"He come around often?"
"Not since I threatened to shoot him next time he showed up out here."
I stop walking mid-step, turning to her in surprise.
"He was giving me a headache," she mumbles, avoiding my gaze. "He talks in circles about profits and losses and taxes and math things that annoy me. And I had a cheesecake in the fridge calling my name."