Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
“Guess I didn’t get much sleep,” I tell him truthfully. But Steve’s not one to get hung up on my mood, he’s pumped about something, and I hope it isn’t just because I’ve come home.
“Nah, I mean, are you okay?” Steve asks again, keeping it light, but I know he means business.
“You’ve been acting weird since the end of our call yesterday…like you’re up to something,” he says with a half-smile, letting the tone of accusation linger long enough to make the guilty sweat.
But I’m not sweating, not yet.
“I have been kinda busy,” I reply, and before I can even hint at my real surprise, I catch sight of May and feel myself brushing past Steve mid-sentence as I gravitate straight toward her.
Taking it slow, huh? Nice and easy, right?
I dunno what it is about her now. Is it her stunning body? Her perfect smile or her hair?
It’s impossible to describe the feeling I get seeing her for the first time in person after so long.
She spots me easily in the crowd, and I watch her cheeks flush as she slows down, starting to gnaw at her lip nervously.
My urge to stride over and just pick her up, toss her over my shoulder, caveman-style, and take us both someplace is overwhelming.
But Steve’s only a few steps behind me, and I watch for the slightest signal from May that she’s hug-ready.
My huge body’s blocking her dad’s view anyway, but when our eyes lock, I see her breath catch.
Hugging her is like the real feeling of coming home. She is home for me now.
After only a moment of hesitation, May hugs my waist. About as high as she can reach. And although my bag’s still in the way, I lean down and squeeze her tight.
I breathe in the fresh scent of her hair. I want to tell her so many things with her perfect little ear so close to my mouth.
But all I manage with her dad so close is a, “Hi, May, great to see you again”
Wow. You’ll really blow her over with that one, Casanova.
Shit.
Off to a bad start with May and her dad, and we haven’t even left the airport.
“It’s good to see you too,” May echoes back, and I feel my heart sink a little.
Not being able to act like anything other than a family friend.
At least, for now.
Not something I gave much thought to on the way over.
But Steve busting in our hug, scruffing my hair, and making it a group hug kinda breaks my mood for the better.
“It is good to see ya, buddy,” I remind him. “Great to see both of you,” I add, shooting May a look I hope transmits the feeling I have in my chest as well as my pants for her.
“I re-arranged things so I could have the morning free,” Steve explains, offering to take the sports bag I’m still using to cover myself as we make our way to the nearest exit.
“I gotta head out again, pretty much as soon as we’re home. But May will keep you company,” he adds, giving his daughter a glowing look.
“And tonight, I’m taking us all out to dinner,” he continues, listing off all the things he wants us to do while I’m in town.
It’s welcome chatter, though.
I can feel my attraction to May more than anything, so if Steve talking keeps him from noticing it, I’m okay with that.
At least I’ll have her to myself while he’s gone. Maybe I can break my big news over dinner? And there’s no fucking way Steve’s paying.
“Dinner sounds great,” I agree with him. “But I’m kinda beat. I’ll probably just chill at your place for a bit, maybe get some shut-eye before doing anything else,” I add, pretending to stifle a yawn.
Sleep is the furthest thing from my mind as I watch May’s sweet, apple-shaped ass winking at me when she walks a few steps ahead of her dad and me.
“What, or who kept you up all night?” Steve teases me, chuckling to himself as he pokes my ribs, but I feel my face darken at the words.
“Just had a sleepless night. Excited to be coming home,” I tell him, forcing a smile to play along.
“Home?” Steve exclaims. “You haven’t called it that for years. You getting’ clucky in your old age, Big B?” he adds, still ribbing me.
“Guess I am,” I murmur. The edge of my lip curls as I watch his daughter’s fine, thick thighs through her jeans.
Picturing my hand sliding up in between those hot legs of hers.
“I guess I am,” I repeat to myself, studying her hips now.
Pleased with how they move. Certain they’re strong enough to take my own weight as well as all those babies I can see she’s built for carrying.
I guess I am getting clucky.
CHAPTER FIVE
May
Dad’s plans to re-arrange days off for himself backfires.