Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“That’s no excuse, but you can make it up to me in the shower.”
“I can?”
He carefully slipped out of bed without getting the sheets messy and held out his hand to me. “Come on, princess. Let’s get dirty before we get clean.”
Smiling, I took his hand.
Eventually, we made it into work, but I had trouble focusing. Mostly I just sat at the desk, staring into space. Thinking about this morning. Fanning myself with a supplier catalog. Dreading the arrival of those parts for my car.
I felt like those repairs would signal the beginning of the end of something I wasn’t ready to let go of. I didn’t want to be dependent on Griffin, but I didn’t want to say goodbye either. I wished I knew what he was thinking, but I was too nervous to ask. I knew how he felt about relationships, and it didn’t seem fair to expect him to change for me.
Cheyenne poked her head into the lobby around noon. “Hey, you.”
I stopped fretting for a moment and smiled at her. “Hey.”
“Wow, looking good in here. So much brighter,” she said, coming inside. “Those photos are going to look great.”
“Thanks. I’m excited about them. And about the party. Did Griffin tell you I got him to agree to turn his vintage pickup into a photo booth for the day?”
Cheyenne laughed. “Did you really? Gosh, he and my dad worked forever on that thing.”
“He told me about it. I think people would get a kick out of having their picture taken in it—and I convinced him to paint the new logo on the side.”
“You’re a genius. Will there be food?”
“Yes. I talked to the Bulldog Pub owner yesterday, and she’s all for collaborating. We’re thinking maybe a little stand selling sliders and fries out front.”
“Wow. You’re putting a lot of effort into this.” She laughed. “Griffin really lucked out when you blew that tire.”
“I’m enjoying it. I hope it makes a difference for the business.”
“I’m sure it will. So do you have time for a quick lunch? Or does my brother keep you chained to the desk all day?”
I shrugged. “I can probably take lunch now. I’m not getting that much work done today anyway.”
“Why not?”
“Just . . . a lot on my mind, I guess.” I came out from behind the desk. “Let me go tell Griff. We usually have lunch together, so I’ll see if he wants me to bring him something.”
Cheyenne tossed a hand in the air. “Invite him along if you’d like.”
Griffin was under the hood of a sleek black Corvette. Seeing him at work, all dirty and sexy and hot, did a thing to my insides, and I felt my legs go a little wobbly as I got close to him. “Hey, you.”
“What’s up?” He paused and looked up at me, bracing himself on the car’s frame.
“Your sister is here asking if I want to have lunch with her.”
“Go for it.”
“Do you want to come with us?”
“Nope.”
“Can I bring you something back?”
“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll just run upstairs and eat leftovers from last night.” He went back to what he was doing under the hood. “Say hi to Cheyenne for me.”
“Okay.” I glanced around, scared to ask the question on my mind but wanting the answer. “Did the parts for my car come in?”
“Not yet.”
Relief flowed over me. “Okay. Maybe this afternoon or something.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t look up. “But even if they did, I’m not sure I’d have time to do the work today. We’re a little busier in here this week than usual, and I want to make sure I have everyone’s work done when I said I would.”
“Okay,” I said tentatively, wondering what that meant.
“You might as well cancel the motel for tonight,” he went on. “And probably tomorrow night too. It’s game day. Realistically, I don’t think I’ll get to your car before the weekend.” He paused, finally looking over at me. “Is that okay?”
I tried not to shriek with excitement. “Where will I stay?”
“With me.” A slow, sexy grin tugged at his mouth. “And before you ask, yes—it’s what I want.”
Feelings for him—huge, monster feelings—rushed through me. I jumped up and threw my arms around his neck, my feet leaving the floor. “It makes me so happy to hear you say that.”
Laughing, he awkwardly patted my back. “You’re going to be filthy, Blair.”
“I don’t care.” I closed my eyes and breathed him in—the usual sweat and motor oil, plus something uniquely him that made my nether regions tingle. But Cheyenne was waiting for me, so I let him go. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay.”
As I turned and walked back to the lobby, I would have sworn my feet didn’t touch the ground.
It was a gorgeous day—sunny and mild—so Cheyenne and I decided to take our sandwiches from the deli down to the waterfront park. As we walked, I told her about my phone call with Frannie and my interview on Saturday. “Thank you so much for putting us in touch,” I said. “I’m really excited to meet her.”