Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Just like that, hand in hand, we walk toward the door, where Royce picks up both of our bags before guiding us out to his car. He doesn’t let go of my hand until we reach the driver’s side door. Digging into the pockets of his cargo shorts, he pulls out his keys.
“You sure you’re okay with me driving? We can catch a ride with Owen.”
“You sober?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then. I am too, but you had one and I had four. Even though it was hours ago, you win. You okay with that?”
“Yeah, but uh, my car is at my place, and you can’t drive so….” I let the unspoken question trail off.
“So you’ll stay with me.”
“I can call a cab.”
“You can stay with me.” He places his hands on his hips like he’s rearing for a fight.
“People are going to start talking.”
“First of all, I don’t give a fuck. Second, let them talk. All I’m worried about is how you feel. Stay with me.”
“Royce,” I murmur. I want to stay with him. It’s crazy and irrational, but I’ve enjoyed my time with him. “I don’t think dinner tomorrow is a good idea.”
“You have that much to do?”
“No,” I confess. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t know what this is, and I work for you, and two days ago, that was a deal breaker for you, and now it’s not?” It’s more of a question than a statement. I don’t really know what he’s thinking.
“I can’t answer that, Sawyer. I wish I had the words and the answers. All I can do is be honest with you. Let’s go to my place, and we can talk,” he says as the door behind us slams, and the voices of his brothers filter through the night air.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he agrees, leaning in and kissing my temple. Stepping back, he opens the door for me and then tosses our bags into the back seat before walking around the front and sliding into the seat next to me. “It’s just a car,” he says when he sees me gripping the wheel.
“A car that I’m sure costs more than I make in a year. Just a car,” I add, muttering under my breath.
“It’s insured. Just relax.” He reaches over and places his hand on my thigh. I glance down, and the ink that adorns his fingers is a dark contrast to the ink-free skin on my legs. And very apparent I need to spend more time in the sun. The dome light in the car dims, bathing us in darkness. “Press the button, babe.” He chuckles.
“Right.” Placing my foot on the brake, I press the ignition button, and the engine roars to life. I turn to look at him. I can barely make out his features in the darkness of the car. “Is your seat belt on?”
“Yes, dear,” he says, humor lacing his voice.
“Please, Lord, don’t let me wreck this car,” I mumble under my breath.
I feel his hot breath against my cheek. “Relax, I’m right here.” His lips press against my neck right under my ear.
“Not helping, Royce.”
“Take us home.”
Home. He’s different tonight. After a day with his family, he’s more carefree and affectionate. Just more layers to the sexy, intriguing man that has taken over my thoughts since the moment he saved me from a panic attack on the plane. I know he’s my boss, and a relationship is frowned upon—his words—but I want all of his layers. I want to peel back each one and examine them. I want to know all of him.
The drive back to his place is quiet. I’m sure he notices that my attention is on the road and not wrecking the expensive sexy beast of a car of his. Although it’s quiet, it’s not uncomfortable.
“Go ahead and pull into the garage,” Royce says, hitting a button on the dash when we pull into his driveway. The garage door lifts, and slowly I pull inside.
“You’re fine, Sawyer,” he assures me. “You have plenty of room.”
“I don’t want to rip off a mirror,” I say, concentrating on side mirrors, making sure I indeed have plenty of space.
“You’re cute.”
“Am I pulled up far enough?” I ask him.
“Yeah, you’re good.” He hits the button again, then reaches over, puts the car in Park, and hits the button to turn off the ignition. “Let me turn the light on so you can see where you’re going.” Quickly, he climbs out of the car, and within seconds, the garage light is turned on, and he’s standing next to my door, opening it for me and offering me his hand. “Let me grab our bags.” With one hand tightly clasped around mine, he opens the back door and retrieves our bags.
“I can toss these into the washer, so you have clothes that don’t smell like lake water tomorrow.”