Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
I stop talking, wondering if I’m doing too much of that while eating, but Brandon looks deep in thought suddenly.
Miles away.
“You want kids of your own though?” he asks after a long silence, and despite my best efforts not to, I flush a deep red.
My whole face feels hot at the thought I have when he asks.
I’d have a dozen kids with you. And I’d love every second we spent putting them inside me.
I think it to myself, screaming it in my mind, but I could never say it out loud. Not like that.
It’s not like me to even think like this, let alone say or do half what we’ve done already today.
I shrug and pretend to want more food, helping myself to a thin slice of steak wrapped around something herby and cheesy.
But Brandon is waiting for an answer.
He’s stopped chewing his food and placed his knife and fork down, making me scared to look up at him because I know how badly he wants me to want what he wants.
I snatch a glance and almost gasp when I see his eyes.
They’re strong and powerful. Full of everything the man is and more. They’re shining like a light that tells my body he’s the one and only man who’ll ever put his seed in me.
He’s the one who’ll father all of my children.
And not just someday.
Soon.
Very soon.
“Little early for that kind of talk, isn’t it?” I try for a laugh, but it comes out way too shaky and nervous.
Brandon lets out a low sound, the kind of sound that lets me know he’s already got all the answers he needs just from looking at me.
Like he can see into my soul with those smoldering eyes of his.
I try to change the subject, asking about him. Quizzing him about his family and his earlier life. What led him into construction, that sort of thing.
But he’s only interested in talking about me, only shrugging or grunting short answers in between bites of food.
The one thing he does share with me though, and it’s the one thing that almost stops my heart before it swells to an ache for him.
“I never had a family either. Nobody. I was almost on the wrong side of the tracks when I was put into a boy’s home. Learned some things there, and found the only friend I ever had.”
I want to ask him some more. I want him to tell me all about it but he somehow manages to effortlessly steer everything back to me without me taking much notice.
The conversation drifts to less intense topics, and in no time we’re laughing together, wondering about the destiny of certain objects.
A wedding dress, freshly cleaned and pressed, due to be worn Sunday having been savaged by dogs and then had two people doing the down and dirty on it.
“I hope it brings them good luck,” Brandon laughs, smiling wide and actually looking like he’s really enjoying himself for a change.
“If they knew.” I try to say in all seriousness, but I can’t help seeing the funny side of it either.
The dress will be mended and dry cleaned, good as new. But I don’t think it’s safe to try anything off the rack or from customers anymore. Not with Brandon around.
“Maybe next time, make sure I’m fully undressed,” I hear myself snort, suddenly quiet myself when he stops laughing.
His eyes are intense again at my word and I feel my heart skip beats. My hands start to tremble at the thought of just what the man can and will do to me over and over again at some point.
It’s getting late, and I haven’t done anything except talk and eat.
Brandon promises that the cannoli that are indeed in another box will be the last thing, and I offer to make us both a coffee from the store’s coffee pot.
“But then I really have to do some work,” I remind him, and he holds up both hands in surrender, telling me he’ll take care of the dishes if I’ll just give him an empty trash bag.
Feeling so full of food and enjoying his company too much, it’s hard for me to get up and do anything sewing related, but I’ve pulled all-nighters for a lot less.
Coffee helps, and once Brandon’s ‘done the dishes’, I settle down to work as he takes a chair not too far from me and watches in total silence as I work.
I feel a little self-conscious at first, but he’s not saying anything, his genuine interest relaxes me after a while and soon enough we’re chatting again as I work.
He asks if I need my phone for some reason, offering to grab it or anything else I need from upstairs, which I think is sweet.
A little odd, but sweet.
Chapter Fourteen
Brandon
I am interested in what she’s doing, I really am.