Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
The door suddenly banging shut just about makes me dump half a container of pepper into the beef. I save it with a fumble and a toss and get it upright, out of the danger zone, and onto the counter without much spillage. But my nose still twitches.
Thaddius walks into the kitchen, clomping those big rubber boots around the place. They’re dirty, and clods of mud fall off them. I’m not sure if this is his regular routine or if he’s trying to get my goat. Err, I mean, get my sheep. He runs the water tap at the kitchen sink and fills up a glass.
“Ahh,” he says as he wipes his hand across his mouth. “She’s a hot one out there.”
Oh great. He’s actually going to talk to me. I guess he decided the silent ride home was enough surliness for one day.
“Yeah, it’s…hot in here too.”
He eyes the ground beef. “I see you’re getting ready to put the oven on. The house doesn’t have AC.”
“I’m just using the stovetop, actually. Going to fry these up.”
“Hmm.” He finally looks at me instead of the bowl of beef. Then, his eyes widen, and he quickly spins around, though not fast enough that I don’t see the red in his cheeks. For a second, I don’t understand, and then I do.
Oh my god. My nipples. He saw my nipples. When he sullenly told me that I could pick anything out of his closet so I could wash all the clothes I bought and the ones I had on because they were kind of sweaty after walking around town in the heat, I hadn’t wanted to go snooping, so I put on the first shirt I could find. He was already changed and heading outside at that point.
I really didn’t think it was that bad. The grey didn’t seem see-through at all.
It’s the nipples. Freaking pebbles galore here.
“I can call you when they’re ready?” I can barley get the words out past my throat, which is currently squeezed tight with embarrassment.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
“Do you want a salad?”
“Anything. It doesn’t matter,” he mutters, looking down.
“Alright.”
“Alright. I’m going to be cleaning out the henhouse, and then I have some work in the barn. I also still have to repair that fence and then figure out how Herman Merman keeps jailbreaking the place. You know. So, if you’re looking for me, I’ll be…around.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he echoes in response.
Good lord, I don’t think it could get more awkward in here. We’d both win the award for the world’s shyest engaged couple. If there was even such an award. And if we were actually engaged.
“Where did the cameras go? From the sink?”
“Buried them in the backyard. I’m not taking any chances that the bastards might be waterproof.”
I swallow thickly. My body might win an award for being a traitor and getting hot and sticky again, as if the morning with Thaddius being so close in the same car, in the same lawyer’s office, and then in the same car again, wasn’t enough. By the way, my body is a huge traitor. My body likes Thaddius’ body chemistry. I can’t help the whole nipple pinging going on, the way the tops of my thighs feel like someone is taking a blowtorch to them, or the fact that my lady bits are getting the afterburn. In a good way.
Except it’s not good. Not good at all.
“That’s probably a good idea,” I tell him.
“It’s a great idea.”
“Should I be expecting anyone else for dinner?”
“Not a chance. If any cars drive up this driveway, I’m shooting the tires out.”
“What?” I yelp, jerking my eyes up. I’ve been staring at the counter this whole time, blurring my eyesight and just getting a fuzzy image of him in the background so I wouldn’t have to fully look at him.
Now my body is really buzzing.
“Kidding. I don’t own a gun. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t scare you like that.”
“You could probably booby trap it so an improvised spike belt would shoot out of the gravel if a certain wire were tripped.”
He blinks, those lovely dark eyes suckering me into wanting to keep staring into their warm, butterscotch depths. “I like it. I’ll see what I can fab up.”
“That was a joke too. You better not. What if someone accidentally trips it?”
“It would always be accidental. That’s the point.”
“I mean someone who isn’t one of the people you want to keep out. Like the mailman or someone just coming to deliver a package.”
“I get my mail in town. Packages too. No one comes this far out to deliver,” he says, looking a little smug.
“Well, the donkey then. Or a chicken. That wouldn’t be good.”
He rubs a hand over the stubble on his jaw, which makes the internal flames inside me flare hotter. It’s just the lack of AC that makes me feel like I’m melting. “You’re right. That wouldn’t be good. Well, I’ll give it some thought.”