Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
I snort. “Both legs. My right arm—twice. My collarbone, most of my fingers, a toe or two… I could go on.”
“You were one of those rambunctious boys, weren’t you? Climbing trees and riding bikes down flights of stairs?”
“Yeah. When I was a kid, my mom’s coworkers had a bet about whether I’d celebrate my tenth birthday in a cast. For the record, I did.”
She shakes her head. “I’ll bet you were a handful.”
Since she left me such a wide-open verbal path, I can’t resist. “I’m more than a handful now, if you want to reach over and feel.”
“We’re supposed to get to know each other. I didn’t mean using our hands.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I pull up to my house and slide the car into my garage, then turn to her. “Here we are.”
Corinne sends me a nervous smile, then reaches for her door handle. I leap out and run around to offer her a hand out. She looks at my outstretched palm, then up at my face, before settling her fingers on mine.
“Watch your step. I keep a bunch of weights and sporting equipment here.” I close the car door behind her and guide her to the house.
When I reach the shadowy kitchen, I flip on a few lights, brightening up the place. “Home sweet home. While you’re here, help yourself to whatever you want.”
She scans the room with wide eyes, taking in the dark cabinets, white quartz counters, and European appliances I’ve rarely used. The area spills over into the living area with its cushy gray sectional, swaying ceiling fan, and the giant big-screen. Her face doesn’t tell me what she’s thinking. I’ve never cared about anyone’s opinion. Then again, I’ve never brought a woman back to my house.
“Thanks. I wouldn’t mind a bottle of water while I change clothes.”
“Sure.” I grab one from the fridge. “Follow me. I’ll show you where Lisa put your things.”
I brace for fireworks as I lead her to my bedroom and flip on a light. Her yellow suitcase sits beside my bed, looking bright against my black duvet.
She takes in the room. “I’m not sleeping in here with you.”
“It wasn’t something I planned, but it’s the best way to get used to me.”
“We have time—”
“Less than twenty-four hours before our engagement party. I won’t do more than kiss you, but we have to be prepared.”
She toys with the engagement ring I slid on her finger. “I don’t like feeling pressured.”
“Under any other circumstance, I would respect your personal space. But you came to me—”
“You don’t have to remind me.”
Clearly, I do. “And I said yes. We both have reasons. Unless you have some other way of getting your hands on the money you need?”
Corinne sighs. “You know I don’t.”
“Then this is for the best.”
“Where’s the rest of my stuff? I have work to do and you promised me space.”
“Other side of the house, the east-facing office. It’s all yours. Let me know if you need anything.”
She snatches the water bottle from my hand, grabs her suitcase, then nods toward the half-open door on the far side of the room. “I assume that’s your bathroom?”
I nod. “Help yourself.”
She shuts the door behind her. I stalk into my walk-in closet, tearing off my coat with a curse. I’m frustrated. The more time I spend with Corinne, the more I like her. The more time she spends with me, the more she’s convinced I’m an asshole.
She’s probably not wrong…
After I hang up my suit and tuck her underwear into my nightstand, I don a pair of basketball shorts and a tank. I hear the soft click of the door and see her emerge with her dark hair swirled on top of her head in a messy bun, wearing a rose-colored T-shirt with cropped pants in a soft floral print. Her bare feet with pink polish are adorable.
“This is a lot less sexy, I know.”
Every part of me disagrees, especially my cock. Thank god my tank is long enough to cover my reaction. “Perfect for eating Hula Pie and playing twenty questions.”
She sips some water. “Let’s get this done.”
I take her hand instead, mostly because I hate not touching her, and usher her back to the kitchen. “Coffee? Champagne?”
She holds up her water. “This is good.”
“Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” I pad out to the garage and grab our dessert and the bubbly, which I tuck into the fridge. Then I swipe two spoons before I follow her to the couch and sit beside her, lifting the lid on our dessert. “Where were we?”
“Um, you’d broken half the bones in your body.”
“Probably. Take a bite.”
“I’m going to moan.”
I smile. “I’m counting on it.”
Corinne glares as she dips her spoon into the decadent ice cream confection and lifts it to her mouth. Her eyes go wide and she lets out a low, pleasure-filled groan. “That’s amazing.”