Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“I think you should let me help you.”
“All we’re waiting on is the biscuits,” I tell her.
“No, I think you should let me help you find your love for the holidays again.”
I’m shaking my head before she’s even finished speaking. “It’s done.” My voice is firm, and I don’t leave room for negotiation. I clear my throat, feeling like an ass for being so short with her, but that’s me. That’s who I am. I change the subject. “So, what exactly do you need from Jerry at this meeting tonight?”
“Nothing, to be honest. He just likes to touch base and make sure he’s executing the project to my plans. We meet for a few, talk about it, and then it’s good.”
I’ll bet. I’m sure Jerry does anything he can to meet with her. Fuck, look at me. I’m making her dinner two nights in a row. Welcoming her into my house, touching her when I know it’s a temptation I don’t need, but I do it all anyway.
Silence surrounds us as I watch her and she stares down at the bottle of water in her hands. It’s not uncomfortable, but I want to know more about her. “Two siblings, right?” I ask her.
“Yes. Brooklyn and Beckham. I’m the oldest, and Brooke is the baby.”
“What was that like?”
“Good. There are six years between me and Beck and ten between me and Brooke. I’m the oldest of all the grandkids. It was just me for a while, and to hear my family tell it, I was quite the character.”
“How so?”
“Do you remember my story about the wiener pants?” she asks.
I chuckle. “Yep.”
“Okay, so there was also this one time my uncle Maverick showed up a little late to a family event, and he had what I thought was a golden ticket stuck to the bottom of his shoe. You know Willy Wonka, right?”
“I do.”
“Great. So, anyway, I saw the gold and got excited, thinking it was a golden ticket. I got rushed away, and it wasn’t until I was older and my mom and aunts were reliving some of their ‘Blake tales’ that I learned what it really was.”
“Well, what was it?”
“A condom wrapper.” She covers her face with her hands. “Talk about embarrassing.”
“How old were you?” My shoulders shake with silent laughter.
“I think seven or eight. Go ahead, laugh it up at my expense.” She waves her hand in the air.
“I’m sorry, but that’s funny.”
“My aunt Alyssa said it was one of those ‘you had to be there moments,’ but they all still laugh their asses off anytime someone brings it up.”
The oven timer goes off, so I turn and grab the biscuits before they burn. I make both of our plates and take a seat next to her at the island. “Eat up.”
“Do you ever use your formal dining room?”
“No, not really. Most of the time, it’s just me, and this island seats five. This is more convenient.”
“You should host a holiday dinner party. Invite your best friend and his family.”
“Yeah, no. I won’t be doing that.”
“Grump,” she teases, leaning her shoulder into mine.
“Sunshine.” I wink at her, and that blush I love so much coats her cheeks.
While we eat, we chat about our college experiences and why I chose to go into the medical field. With parents who are doctors, the choice was easy for me. They never pressured me to go to medical school. It was something I wanted to do. By the time we’re finished and the dishes are in the dishwasher, we’ve got just enough time to make it back to the hospital to meet this Jerry character.
“They’re working on the big Christmas tree at the main entrance,” Blakely directs as she bounces in her seat. She really does love Christmas. “You can park over there.”
Doing as she says, I park in the spot she pointed out, and she’s out of the car before I can open her door for her. I rush to turn off my SUV, grab my keys, and follow her. I scan the area and count five guys working. None of them are paying us a bit of attention, so I’m certain none of them are this Jerry guy. I hope he’s pissed that she’s not alone.
“There she is!” a jovial voice calls out.
I step up behind Blakely and slide my arm around her waist. She peers up at me under long lashes, a look of confusion crossing her face. The urge to kiss her is strong, but the man in question, who I’m guessing is Jerry, steals her attention.
I don’t like it.
“What do you think?” the guy asks.
I peel my eyes away from Blakely and bite down on my cheek to keep from smiling. Jerry, if I had to guess, is in his late sixties, and he’s not looking at Blakely like he wants to drag her to his bed. No, he’s looking at her with genuine affection. My shoulders fall, and I relax, knowing he’s not the competition.