Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
She rolls her eyes, but smiles as she slides in.
I move around behind the wheel. I drum my fingers excitedly on the dash and turn on some music. Charli is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“You really aren’t what I expected,” she says.
“Good. Meeting expectations is boring as shit. And if your expectations were built by Vaughn Vanderlesh, then I better hope I don’t meet them.”
“Okay. Good point. But, can you tell me what’s going on yet? I feel like there’s more to this than you liking my story.”
I turn the key and start driving.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of weird?” she asks.
“Words can hurt, Charli.”
When I glance her way, she’s actually grinning up at me.
And just like that, my cold, calloused, doesn’t-give-a-shit-about-relationships ass puckers a little. It puckers because I like something about this girl. Sure, I knew I liked the way she looked and I liked imagining what it would feel like to get my hands on her. But I’m quickly realizing I like more than just that. There’s a fire in her that isn’t quite like anything I’ve ever seen.
“Let me tell you the difference between Landmark and Gray Wolfe,” I say.
“Okay.” She folds her arms and tucks one leg beneath her. “Enlighten me.”
“The guys at Landmark are spineless, cheating, scumbags.”
“An hour ago, I would’ve argued with you on that. Right now, I’m leaning toward agreeing.”
“And,” I continue, “at Gray Wolfe, we’re also not afraid to cheat a little. But we like to do our cheating and screwing right out in the open. We’re honest about it. Make sense?”
“No, not really.”
“That’s fine. You just keep sitting there looking pretty until we get to my place. I need a coffee to pull together the finer points of my plan. Once I’m caffeinated, I’ll explain the plan to you.”
“You think I’m pretty?”
I glance her way, gaze going from her full lips, ample chest, and following the shape of her legs. “I’ve been thinking quite a few things about you. Pretty was the only one I thought was appropriate enough to say out loud..”
“Is this really you without caffeine?”
4
CHARLI
If mental whiplash is a thing, I have it. In the span of a single hour, I’ve gone from brain-meltingly nervous to devastated to confused. And right now, I’m amused, too. This man is absolutely nothing like what I would’ve expected, either from what Vaughn told me or from how he looks.
He’s a towering hunk of muscle and suit. He has eyes so light brown it almost looks like they’re lit from within and there’s a perpetual shadow of humor at the corners of his shapely lips. He’s a few days past clean shaven, and the more I look at him, the more sure I am that he’s absolutely gorgeous.
And he’s weird. I wasn’t kidding. There’s a kind of cannon-ball like quality to him. Like he’s rolling, bursting, exploding, and pushing through anything and everything in his way without wondering if he should stop to ask permission first. It’s almost like confidence, but it’s too forceful to even feel like it fits the description.
I can already feel myself caught up in his momentum and I have no idea what he’s planning. I can see how this man would make a good leader, though. He must inspire people to follow him before they even realize they’re following. Half his employees probably woke up one morning and realized they’d already signed a contract and would run through a wall for him.
He stops in front of my hotel. “How’d you know where I’m staying?”
“Huh? “This is where I’m staying. I was going to take you up to my room.”
“Wait, I didn’t agree to go to your room.”
“Oh, no,” he laughs. “I’m not trying to fuck you. I mean, you’ll know if I’m trying to fuck you. Trust me.” He narrows his eyes. “And I’m not trying to do that yet. So relax. I just want to explain the plan to you. We can do it in the lobby if that makes you more comfortable. Scheme, not fuck. Get your mind out of the gutter.” He gives my arm a little punch and then gets out of the rental, stretching.
I blow out a breath. I’m not trying to do that yet. Did he really just say that? I get out, sliding my bag over my shoulder. It’s heavy with all the books I acquired today.
He notices me grimace at the weight and reaches over, taking it from me. “Let me,” he says.
I let him take the bag and follow him into the lobby. He pours himself a coffee from the free coffee dispenser and dumps way too much sugar into it. He grins when he notices me watching. “Can’t stand the way this shit tastes plain.”
I bite my lip and pour myself a cup. I also pour in way too much sugar, because that’s how I like it. I’ve never understood the maniacs of the world who can drink coffee black and without sugar. I think maybe they’re just punishing themselves. Maybe their morning coffee is supposed to be like a reminder that one day, we’ll all die and just maybe we’ll be drifting in a black, bitter nothingness. No sugar. No cream. Just blackness. Or maybe they prefer the taste. Who knows?