Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Even though it was getting blatantly apparent that I was now moved in with a man that really did it for me. In all ways.
What a horrible, no good, very bad idea.
• • •
Bindy turned out to be great.
Other than asking me out on a date, which I declined, she was reasonably priced—though Easton paid for it—and didn’t do very much small talk.
By the time I’d walked out of the dress shop with my formal dress in hand, I was well on the way to being in a, dare I say it, good mood.
It was a surreal feeling to be able to buy something that I wanted.
And I’d bought quite a few somethings, including a dress, panties, and a matching strapless bra.
I hadn’t had a new bra in so long that I couldn’t even count the days.
I arrived at Easton’s place, via my rig, with about thirty-five minutes to spare before we’d need to leave for the police ball.
It was just enough time to go upstairs and apply mascara, a smidge of eyeshadow and eyeliner, get dressed, and head out.
I pulled in just in time to see him opening the front door to scowl at me.
When I got out with the bag in hand, he scowled harder.
“What?” I asked.
“I told you to do your hair,” he growled.
I resisted touching it since she said it might cause the loose waves to uncurl.
Instead, I touched the very ends and said, “She did. She said since my hair was so shiny and sleek, that I should leave it down anyway. She gave me a trim, put these curls in it that are having a hard time holding since my hair is naturally so straight, and then sent me home with a new bottle of hair spray to spray on before we go.”
The frown stayed. “And why did you take your truck? I left the keys out to my truck so you wouldn’t have to drive the Hulk through town.”
I snorted. “A, had I known that was an option, I wouldn’t have driven my truck. You know how hard it is to find parking for it? And B, thank you. I spent exactly three hundred and two dollars. I found the formal dress at the Goodwill of all places. The bra and underwear were new, but those were from Walmart. Don’t worry. I made sure that I grabbed one that was packaged. I don’t do underwear from Walmart unless I can wash them first.”
He sighed. “I thought you’d go to an actual store to find these clothes.”
“I did,” I said. “Are you ready?”
I looked down at his black pants, white t-shirt, and sockless feet curiously.
“No,” he grumbled. “I can’t get the jacket on, nor can I get the button-up shirt halfway up my arms before my ribs start to scream. I need your help.”
I gave him a thumbs up and moved around him. “Then let me get dressed and ready really quick.”
Which was exactly what I did.
By the time I came back out with my shoes—ones I owned already—in my hand, it was to stop at his open door and knock on the frame. “Are you ready for me?”
He poked his head out from behind the frame of his closet and jerked his chin for me to come inside.
I swallowed my disappointment at the non-reaction on his face to my outfit.
His eyes were blank as he handed me his dress shirt.
It was red.
Funny enough, the dress I had on had hints of red in the thread, too.
We’d match.
I couldn’t help the small smile that started to rise on my lips as I thought about how good my dress would look pressed against his shirt and tie. The accents were subtle, but anyone looking would know we’d coordinated. That we were together.
Then I slapped myself mentally because this—what Easton and I were doing tonight—was fake.
I was fake with him tonight, so I shouldn’t feel anything warm and squishy inside of me.
I took the shirt from him and went behind him, my eyes automatically going to the muscles in his shoulders. The muscles that I wanted to sink my teeth into as I pressed kisses all over his…
“Can you put your arms back here so I can just lift it up your shoulders? Or would that cause too much pain?” I requested.
He did it as well as he could, and I eventually got the shirt up his arms and over his shoulders before coming around to the front and starting on the buttons.
My knuckles brushed his lower belly, and I had to hold in the moan that threatened to spill from my lips at the hardness of his abdomen.
“How often do you work out?” I wondered.
He sucked in his gut and caused me to look up into his eyes as he said, “Why? Is my belly in the way? I haven’t gone in a few weeks.”