Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I stop admiring Angel’s sweltering curves when Mrs. Richler mutters, “Your mother would be rolling in her grave if she could hear you now.”
“Hey. That’s not cool. Don’t do that.” I don’t give a fuck who you are or what you think you are worth. Never use a person’s dead parent against them. “Angel was here first, and she clearly doesn’t feel comfortable with me sharing her space, so I’ll find somewhere else to stay until another apartment becomes available.”
I’ve only just collected my suit jacket from the chair I tossed it over mere minutes ago when I’m interrupted by the person I was hoping would throw me a lifeline. “That could be weeks away. Possibly months.”
“It’s all good.” I place on my jacket and then spin to face Angel. “As you said, my housing situation isn’t your problem.” A smile tugs at her lips when I murmur, “Though you have me tempted to download the Airbnb app.” When she grimaces at the end of my reply, I realize Mrs. Richler is unaware of her side gig. “Because your tip earlier about pool houses being vacant during winter could get me out of the pickle I’m in.”
Angel seems remorseful for her earlier words, but if my intuition is anything to go by, it has more to do with me standing up for her than an error in processing a tenancy application. “Do you have someone you can bunk with? Any family or friends nearby?” Her tone dips with jealousy. “A girlfriend?”
I fiddle with the lapels of my jacket while using her unexpected neurosis against her. A woman as beautiful as her should never experience jealousy, but I’m confident it’s the cause for the spasm in her jaw, so I run with it. “I’m new to the area. All my acquaintances are back home.” She looks more miffed than pleased by my reply, so I unexpectedly drop my guard. “I also don’t have a girlfriend… anymore. I moved across the globe for a new start to avoid watching her marry my best friend.” Since my reply is honest, it sounds that way. I just fail to mention we broke up five years ago, and it was amicable.
Angel is still apprehensive as she inches closer, but since it is more based on her neurosis than mine, I act ignorant. “Ravenshoe is facing a horrific rental crisis.” She shifts her eyes to Mrs. Richler and narrows them. “Hence me fighting for the tenants with years left on their pre-boom agreement.” Her eyes are back on me. “But I don’t want their mistakes to affect you.” She groans her following words like she’s never had a stranger bunk in her spare room. “So you can stay here, with me, until my lawyer’s office opens in the new year or one of the nearby hotels has a vacancy.” She watches the bob of my throat as I swallow my relief. “But…”
The lack of Christmas decorations in her apartment already announces that she hates my tie, but she makes sure I can’t be mistaken by baring her teeth while glaring at the upside-down Santas dotted throughout the green design. I thought she’d think my tie is cute. It seems to have had the opposite effect.
“If you so much as whistle a Christmas tune, I will teach you that the Nutcracker has nothing to do with ballet and the land of sweets, and everything to do with family jewels.”
Fuck me sideways.
She just got ten times sexier.
“Have I made myself clear, Christian?”
I swallow again. My throat isn’t dry. I simply need to shift her focus higher before she learns how hard her taunt has made me. I love a woman with enough gall to go against a stranger as much as I love the good bones of her apartment.
When I reach Angel’s eyes, which are a fascinating shade of green, I wave the white flag I’m sure will be used at least a dozen times before midnight.
“Good.” After a final stare in Mrs. Richler’s direction, Angel mumbles something about needing a shower before heading toward the sole bathroom.
Mrs. Richler waits for the faucet to be turned on before she angles her head and arches a brow. She has the school principal’s scold down pat, and her scowl takes care of my hard-on.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I murmur, bowing out of a fight unworthy of my time with a clipped tone.
“By the skin of your teeth.”
Huffing, I sling off my jacket and return it to the chair under the kitchen island. “Your exchange exposed that she has a soft spot for people down on their luck, so I utilized it. I had no intention of leaving.”
I feel shit about how I used Angel’s inability not to help against her, but I keep that to myself. I’ll let Mrs. Richler know what I want her to know. Nothing more.