Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
We glare at each other for a long couple of minutes before I relent. “Fine. Meet me at Bull and Sadie’s. Joshua hasn’t seen you in ages. He’s into Paw Patrol now so make sure you’ve googled the lingo because he’s going to talk your fucking ear off.”
She squeals before launching herself into my arms. I hug her to me and inhale her comforting scent. “Thank you. I was going crazy cooped up in this house.”
“Always so dramatic,” I tease before ruffling her hair. “Make sure you wash this mess before tonight. We’ll have one of my employees dining with us as well. Don’t overshare.”
She snorts and bounds away from me. “Who me? Overshare? I would never.”
“I mean it,” I call out to her even after a door slams shut behind her.
Her voice is muffled. “No, you don’t.”
A tiny smile plays on my lips.
No, I really don’t.
Gwen’s stories are sometimes the only breath of fresh air I get in an otherwise suffocating world. I just hope things don’t go too haywire with Violet. That woman is the exact opposite of Gwen. If you look at them side by side, you’d deem them as opposite as two women can be.
And yet…
Some part of me hopes that they’ll like each other.
On the way to Bull and Sadie’s, Violet and I chatted about safe topics. Turns out she likes to read but her Kindle’s broken and she never thinks to go to the library until she’s in bed wanting to read. She loves breakfast food and sometimes makes it for dinner. And she can sing. In Latin of all languages. Her choir teacher in high school had a thing for Latin songs. I’d pressed her to sing me one but she’d just laughed and waved me off. The drive was light and fun.
I haven’t been this relaxed in ages.
And her scent filling my car had me wanting to reach across the console to thread my fingers in her hair so I could taste her pretty mouth too.
Like a gentleman, I refrained from mauling her in my car. Instead, I stole glances. Tonight, she’s wearing jeans, like I’d requested, paired with some knee-high boots. Her sweater is fitted but she is clearly wearing a bra underneath. I am both annoyed and thankful for that. I’m dying to peel away her clothes and sink my cock into her hot body but I know women like Violet are worth the wait. When I finally do get my opportunity, it will be that much sweeter.
“We’re here,” I tell her as I pull into the driveway beside Gwen’s Camaro. That shiny red sports car was my present to her for her thirtieth birthday.
I climb out of the Range Rover and make it over to Violet’s side just as she’s opening the door. Our eyes meet as I hold it open for her and offer my hand.
“So you can be a gentleman,” she teases. Even though she’s smiling, I don’t miss the nervousness that’s rippling from her. Her brown eyes dart down the street—both ways—before returning to mine. One day I’ll find out who she’s looking for. And if the fucker has hurt her in any way, I’ll harm him too.
Once I close the door, I don’t let go of her hand until we reach the door. I’m not about to advertise my interest in Violet in front of Gwen. Not even going to go there tonight. I knock on the door and soon Sadie answers.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite guy,” she gushes as she steals a hug. “But don’t tell Jeff. You know he gets jealous.”
We both chuckle.
“Sadie,” I introduce with a wave of my hand. “This is my…” I trail off. I don’t want to introduce her as my girl, even though she is and just doesn’t know it yet. But “assistant” feels cold. We’re friends I suppose but I don’t like that one either. In the end, I choose the safest option. “She’s my Violet.”
Sadie’s eyebrows raise. “Your Violet, huh?”
“Violet Simmons,” Violet rushes out and extends her hand. “I’m Gray’s assistant at the office.”
Sadie lets out a laugh. “Okay, that makes more sense. I thought I recognized you. I meet Jeff from time to time for lunch. You might remember my son bouncing through there, terrorizing everything and everyone in sight.”
Violet smiles politely at her, but I can tell she feels uncomfortable. “I believe I’ve seen you a time or two.”
“I’m hungry. What’re we having?” I question as we follow her inside. The Brownstone they live in is decorated well. Sadie does interior design. She’s the one who came through and turned my masculine home into something more livable. Gwen certainly doesn’t have the touch—not like Sadie.
“Jeff marinated some steaks. Everything’s just about ready. We were just waiting for you to get here before we threw them on the grill,” Sadie chirps as we make our way toward the kitchen.