Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
With a cheeky grin, she treated him to a little finger wave. “Don’t worry about me. I can swim.”
Clearly, he’d been staring at her too long, again, so he shook his head and got to work. Using a ladder, he started at one end of the patio cover and began hanging the lights on hooks he screwed into the beams, doing a crisscross method as she’d requested. He left a bit of slack so that the bulbs hung in a low, symmetrical pattern along the pergola. Nearly an hour later, he was almost finished when she piped up.
“Hey, can you drape that last string of lights a little bit more to the left?” she asked as she lazily skimmed her fingers in the pool water. “They look off from here.”
He didn’t think so, but it was her patio, not his. “Sure.”
He rearranged the ladder beneath the hooks and did as she asked, and just when he finished and stepped off the ladder, she sighed and said, “No, I think it was better the way it was before, but maybe a little more to the right?”
He glanced her way, trying not to glare at her uncertain directions. “Are you sure?”
She gave him an impish smile. “Yeah, I think so.”
He turned and rolled his eyes, then back up the ladder he went, repositioning the lights and making sure he got her approval before he climbed back down.
When both feet were back on the patio, she made a hmm sound, then said, “Can you make it so it’s not sagging in the middle part of the pergola?”
He clenched his jaw in annoyance. It wasn’t sagging, not from his perspective, and he wanted to yell, Make up your fucking mind, but damned if he’d give her the satisfaction. He knew she was doing this to exasperate him and enjoying every moment, and if it made up for his past infraction in her mind, then he’d grit his teeth and do it. Which he did.
“That’s much better,” she praised him while clapping her hands. “Good job!”
What am I, a dog? He rolled his eyes once more as he cleaned up the boxes and the rest of the packaging, throwing it all in the outdoor trash. He mentally crossed that job off his list and brought out the hedge trimmer to work on the shrubs, already feeling his shoulders beginning to ache.
“Before you start doing the shrubs, could you bring me a glass of iced tea, please?” she asked oh-so-sweetly. “There’s a pitcher of it in the refrigerator.”
“I would love to,” he drawled, not bothering to hide his sarcasm, and went to do her bidding.
The only upside to delivering her drink was when she paddled to the edge of the pool and he crouched down to hand her the plastic tumbler, which she took. He received a nice eyeful of her cleavage and didn’t bother to hide his appreciative stare. And when he lifted his gaze to her face, he didn’t miss the knowing smirk on her lips that told him she was deliberately teasing and tempting him.
He stood back up, looking down at her with his hands on his hips. “Anything else before I get back to work, princess?”
She took a sip of her tea and grinned. “No, I’m good for now. Thank you.”
He looked at all her pale, smooth skin on display. It wasn’t an overly hot day, but the last thing he wanted was her fair skin to burn. “Did you put on sunscreen?” he asked.
She lowered her sunglasses and batted her lashes at him. “Yes, Daddy, I did.”
She was mocking him, but that word coming from her mouth gave daddy a whole different meaning, one that made a fair amount of lust course through his blood. And by the wicked gleam in her eyes, she knew it, too, the minx. Despite having half a dozen dirty remarks on the tip of his tongue, he ignored her comment, turned, and returned to the yard work with a hard, aching dick.
He endured another hour of her bossing him around. I think you missed a spot over there, Derek. Trim the hedges a bit lower, Derek. Make sure you don’t clip the rose bushes too short please, Derek. With her excessive demands and adjustments, she was making it take twice as long for him to get anything done, and he’d had it.
He was hot and sweaty and feeling annoyed and cantankerous. Not even her sexy bathing suit eased his frustration. “Jessica!” he finally shouted. “Let me at least finish each chore before you start criticizing my work.” He freely admitted he was no landscaper, but she was driving him insane.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She pressed a hand to her chest, feigning contrition. “Am I being too nitpicky?”
He narrowed his gaze on the slight, sinful curve of her lips. Oh, she wasn’t sorry at all. With gritted teeth, he watched her float in the deep end of the pool, not a care in the world, like a princess on her throne as she delegated to minion—which, at the moment, was him.