Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
I wanted to argue that there were exceptions to the rule, but I didn’t want to dwell on negatives. If Moody wasn’t a fan of Christmas, that was his prerogative.
While we ate, we abandoned the holiday conversation in favor of neutral subjects, like the weather, the hundred and fifty wineries in the area, the sixty-plus restaurants, and the amazing variety of wildlife. Especially birds.
His face lit up as he talked about unusual species he’d encountered like the burrowing owl, the white-throated sparrow, and Lawrence’s goldfinch.
Let’s face it, Louis Moody was a quirky dude. He was animated, interesting, engaging, and thoughtful. I liked him. A lot. His intensity was counterbalanced by the sweetest smile, the pretty eyes, and the unexpected virtue of not taking himself too seriously. I knew far too many people whose big opinions made them seem alternately annoying or difficult…or both. Not Moody.
Then again, the only thing we really disagreed about was the holidays. Or perhaps I was still confused by the notion that this generally jolly guy was Christmas Town’s resident Scrooge.
We squabbled over the check, but I insisted on paying. “This is the nicest meal I’ve had in ages. Great food, and even better company. Please. My treat.”
“If I cannot change your mind, I grudgingly acquiesce.” Moody sighed. “Thank you.”
I grinned. “You’re welcome.”
We walked to the parking lot in silence. I should have been thinking about my follow-up meeting with the owners of Oak Ridge in the morning, but my mind was securely locked in the present.
On Moody.
We’d driven separately, which had made sense since we were coming from opposite directions. However, I wasn’t ready to say good-bye now.
“That’s my vehicle.” Moody gestured to a white SUV under a lamplight.
The whoosh of the ocean crashing on the beach below us and crickets chirping in the nearby bushes soothed my nerves as we wordlessly walked toward the row of cars. Yeah, I was nervous. I couldn’t figure it out. Nothing was going to happen between us.
Look, I was over Kylie for sure, but I wasn’t ready to start something new—especially not with someone I’d potentially bump into again if I did end up investing in the ranch. And Moody wasn’t a one-night-stand option. Don’t ask me how I knew that…I just did.
“Hey, um…it was great to meet you. Thanks for having dinner with me and giving me insight about the area. It was nice of you.”
“I’m nice.” Moody’s sassy wink went straight to my dick.
Whoa. Wait. Was he flirting now?
I crossed my arms and regarded him with faux skepticism. “I thought you were the Grinch.”
“Scrooge,” he corrected. “One doesn’t want Christmas at all, and the other is a curmudgeon who wants less holiday fuss.”
“They’re both grumpy as fuck.”
“Absolutely. The worst.”
I made a mini production of studying Moody: his fit, compact body, the proud tilt of his jaw, his twinkling eyes. My gaze lingered longer than necessary on his mouth and— Shit…this was reciprocal flirting for sure. I couldn’t seem to stop, though.
“Not you. You’re a great guy. I know these things.” I tapped my temple. “I have good instincts, and—”
“Oh, no. Stop.” Moody wrinkled his nose. “Darn it.”
I frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, I was attempting amorous wooing, or…I think I was.”
“Wooing,” I repeated.
“Yes, I’m terribly out of practice. But you ruined it.” He threw his hands in the air and paced to the lamplight and back again. “ ‘Good instincts.’ Two words later, and my cover is blown.”
“Uh...still not following.”
“My curiosity, which I’ve somehow managed to control for two hours straight, has reared its ugly head, and my insatiable interest for information that is none of my business is demanding to know what happened. Why? And how could she?” Moody stopped in his tracks and gestured wildly at me. “Look at you. You’re hopelessly handsome, seemingly intelligent, charming without trying too hard, and though of course, I can’t be sure of this, the substantial bulge in your jeans indicates you also possess a large penis. I see no downside whatsoever. So…enlighten me, please. What on earth was your ex-fiancée thinking?”
Yeah, I had nothing.
I stood there, speechless, unsure where to begin. The breakdown of the wedding that didn’t happen, the ex whose name I could barely remember after an evening with Moody, the fact that he was interested in me…all of it.
But I started with the easy stuff.
“My dick is larger than average.”
Holy shit. Really, Hudson? Really?
We stared at each other, the air suddenly thick and potent with desire. Maybe that was all on me, but no—no, it wasn’t. He wanted me.
Moody stepped closer. “I believe you. I’m about to utter words that I may regret in the morning, but I don’t think I can stop myself.”
“What kind of words?” Christ, was my voice always this deep?
“Show me.”
I swallowed hard. “Show you…my dick?”
“So I can judge for myself,” Moody replied evenly.