Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 57943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
She turned pink again and stalked into the kitchen to serve up the soup.
We ate quickly and without much conversation. She avoided any and all eye contact with me. When she did look up at me, her eyes would briefly dart to my chest before she’d drag them back to focus on her soup. The hair falling around her face couldn’t hide her crimson cheeks. As for me, my eyes never left her while we ate. I couldn’t peel my eyes from her lips every time they wrapped over the spoon to suck down the hot liquid.
Once she was finished, much to my dismay, she scampered off to the laundry room, retrieving my wet shirt from the washer, and then grabbed the pink shirt from the bathroom. I cocked an eyebrow at her when she handed me her shirt but didn’t argue as I pulled it over my head. The shirt was tight and I looked like some kind of pussy, but the huge grin that was forming on that beautiful face of hers was enough to want me to proudly wear it while I pranced around town.
The ride back to my truck was quiet except for her quietly singing “I Will Wait For You” by Mumford & Sons. She was like a siren of the sea and had me completely captivated at this point.
I was struggling not to stare at her like a fucking psycho and had to physically force myself away from her and out of the car once we stopped by my truck. After I was away from her alluring presence in the car, I walked around to her window to see her once more. “Let me take you out, Lia,” I urged, once again getting lost in those twinkling eyes.
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, obviously debating my request. To further convince her, I gave her my cockiest panty-melting grin. I was pretty sure she needed help lifting her jaw off the floor.
But she seemed to pull herself out of a trance and pasted on her practiced fierce look. “I don’t date.”
After effectively killing my ego with three words, she peeled out and disappeared into the distance. This was one fucked-up afternoon.
WHEN I GOT back home, I felt anxious. Cale had gotten my blood boiling, but he was so damn good-looking that it had been hard to stay mad. He’d had my emotions battling with each other the entire time I’d spent with him. And his body. God, his body. I could stare at that chiseled chest for hours. The way his sculpted abs had dripped with water from the shower had made me want to lick up each droplet. He wasn’t what I needed though. I needed to stay in the safety and sanctuary of my comfortable life, which meant that guys in general weren’t to be a part of that picture. He just confused things for me.
Why didn’t the typical fears seem to surface when I was around him?
He just left me feeling embarrassed or pissed or flustered from one moment to the next but never scared. Unfortunately, it’s a small town, and I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last I’d see of him. Not all of me was upset by that notion.
The doorbell rang and pulled me from my juicy thoughts of Cale sans a shirt. When I peeked through the peephole, I saw the deliveryman. I excitedly unlocked all three locks and flung open the door.
“Whatcha got for me today, Sam?” I asked my frequent deliveryman.
“Looks like a box from Saks and one from Jimmy Choo,” he replied with a smile as he scanned the bar codes on the boxes.
“Sweet! My new suede pumps are finally here!” I exclaimed with a little too much joy than one should use when talking about shoes.
Shoes had always been a part of my life. From as far back as I could remember, my mom had helped feed my shoe addiction. Now that I had a well-paying job, I took care of my needs myself. She still surprised me every now and again with a killer pair. My past horrors might have snuffed out a good portion of who I’d once been, but it hadn’t taken out my greatest love. Shoes.
Sam handed the two boxes to me but didn’t make any moves to leave like he normally did. He delivered shoes to me pretty often, and we’d had friendly chats over weather and local sports, but he’d never tried to be anything other than a nice guy. Rubbing both hands over the back of his neck, he looked nervous as he tried to build up the nerve to say something. I watched him curiously as he finally gathered the guts he was searching for.
“So, um, Lia, I was just wondering if maybe you might want to catch a movie or something one day,” he muttered, eyes everywhere but on me. Finally, he met my gaze with his dark-brown, almost-black eyes, waiting on my response.