Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
I shake my head. “No.” I set the file down on the dresser. I don’t want to look this over now. I’m not sure I even want to see what’s in here. A thick file that’s supposed to encompass me?
“You want to see Hallman’s file?” he asks.
“No,” I say.
“Why?”
“Because Adam and I are history. You saw to that. His secrets are now moot.”
“Fair enough. Change your mind, let me know.” He looks at the rack. “You try anything on?”
I shake my head.
“Gonna let me pick your dress for tomorrow’s family thing?”
“I don’t want to meet your family.”
“I want you there with me,” he states.
“If you make me go with you, maybe I’ll blurt all the crap you’ve pulled on me.”
“No, you won’t.” He shakes his head.
“And how do you know that?”
“Because if I told you the consequences of such an action, you’d decide to be my good girl.” He smiles, wrapping his arms around me and kissing the tip of my nose.
My hands come up to push him away, but he walks me backwards until my back is against the wall of the closet we’re in.
It’s a dream closet. Huge. Lots of shelves and drawers. Derek has only a small amount of the space in use, but then again I know he doesn’t live here full-time. And I suddenly find myself curious about his other place.
“You don’t live here,” I state.
“I’m generally here a handful of days a year. When I have stuff happening at one of the clubs. When I come in for family functions. That’s why I came a couple weeks ago. Things for the clubs and knowing I’d have to be here for my parents’ fortieth.”
“But I live here,” I state the obvious.
“I know that,” he replies, still smiling.
“You’re expecting me to marry you and we don’t live in the same city.”
“You telecommute,” he says. “So your location is flexible.”
“No. It’s not,” I disagree. “I live in Columbus and that’s non-negotiable.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he says with a shrug.
But his eyes are lit with something; I don’t know what and I’m not sure I want to know.
“I need to get some work done,” I state bitchily.
He takes a step back and I slip by him.
I jolt in surprise when I feel Derek’s hands land on my shoulders. I’ve been sitting at the desk in his spare bedroom working all day. It’s now dark out.
“You’ve been working ten hours,” he says. “Dedicated, even when it’s work you’re doing for me.”
I blink a couple of times and stretch my neck. “Good point. Maybe I should sabotage everything.”
He laughs.
I roll my eyes.
“Time to pack it in for the night. Get some food. Relax,” he says and starts to squeeze, then his fingers start massaging. Before I search for the words to make him stop, I find I’m leaning into the tension relief his hands are capable of. He keeps going, fingers moving in circles around my shoulders, my neck.
I’m suddenly hungry.
I’ve put myself ahead of the game with work. It was a good distraction to get lost in something productive, something I have actual control over.
“Did your belly just rumble?” he asks against my ear, making me shiver. “I’ve got just the thing.” He takes my hand and tugs.
Rising, I try to pull my hand away, but his grip tightens and there’s no escape, so I follow him out to the living area and as the scent hits my nose, my salivary glands wake up. There’s a large pizza on the table. A bottle of wine and a glass for me. A glass of something brown for him. Two plates. Napkins. A candle lit. Candle lit pizza dinner.
But there’s more than that. Beside my plate is the wolf shifter romance he bought me. Beside his plate is a novel.
He opens the box and it’s covered in colorful vegetables, hot peppers, and pepperoni. Just like I like it. I ignore the way it feels to have a man know what you like and get it for you without you asking for it.
“Do you enjoy reading while eating or are you doing this to make me think we’re compatible?” I ask. “Because I don’t do this at home. I take myself on a dinner with a book date once in a while out somewhere.”
“I figure you’re probably not interested in conversing with me tonight, so thought I’d give this a try,” he says. “My sister Naomi bought me this series for Christmas a while back. My parents raised us getting something you want, something you need, and something to read every Christmas as kids. Grace buys me something she thinks I need every year. Nay always buys me something to read even though I’m not much of a fiction guy.” He gestures behind himself, and I notice the bay window’s window seat has a bookshelf under it. The door is open halfway and it’s filled with books.