Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
I blink with tears in my eyes.
“Yes of course,” I say in a choked voice. “Your sunset years are important and I wouldn’t want you to live in poverty. I just had no idea. I mean, I don’t know what I thought … but … but …”
Caleb steps in then.
“Again, it’s no problem,” he says in a deep voice, directing his words at me. “I don’t mind, and your dad spoke so highly of you, Lorraine,” he adds. “The US government has been generous with my company, so it seemed right to put my Army buddy’s daughter through school with some of the largesse.”
I flush even hotter.
“Thank you,” I stammer in an unsteady voice. “It’s just that I had no idea that you were doing this, and I don’t know how to thank you. Tuition at Lakeview is expensive, so I appreciate it. Thank you again,” I manage to stammer lamely.
But it’s enough. Caleb smiles, a flash in his blue eyes that warms me straight to my core. “It’s fine, Lori. I’m happy to help out. And I think it’s better for everyone that this is out in the open actually. There’s been no harm done, so just think of it as a scholarship, sweetheart.”
My dad exhales a sigh of relief, and my mom smiles tremulously at all three of us.
“Well, that’s settled then,” Margaret burbles while holding up a wooden bowl full of steaming rolls. “More bread anyone? These are fresh from the oven.”
With that, the conversation turns to other things, and the food really is delicious. I eat and drink, but don’t register any tastes because my mind keeps whirling. The handsome man across the table from me is my benefactor, and I have to do something to show my appreciation. Words aren’t enough because two years of tuition at Lakeview is going to be almost a hundred and twenty thousand dollars. But what can I do? I’m just a student, and it’s not like I have anything that he’d want.
I look up shyly and see that Caleb’s brilliant blue eyes are fixed on my own. With that, a blush creeps up my cheeks and I nod slightly as an idea forms in my head. Maybe, just maybe, I have something that Mr. Minor might be interested in. But I need to wait and see because the time hasn’t come quite yet, and the moment has to be ripe before I make an offer.
2
Caleb
I sip my espresso while gazing across the thickly-wooded backyard. I growl at nothing in particular and then let out a snort. Part of me knows that I shouldn’t want Lori, so I’m frustrated by the struggle. The other part of me wants to ravish the curvy girl right now, making her moan and scream with pleasure. After all, ever since that dinner earlier in the week, my mind has been preoccupied with images of deep brown eyes and soft, generous curves. Fuck, what am I doing?
With a grimace, I shift my attention to the usual slew of Monday tasks. There’s an email from a team leader on the ground, reporting on some supply chain issue. There’s another email from the Under Secretary’s assistant, requesting a new security detail for an upcoming trip. Okay, this is all par for the course, but before I can dive into work too fully, I hear the soft brrrr of my cell phone vibrating on the desk next to me. It’s not a big deal because I talk to dozens of people each day as part of my successful consulting business. It’s just another tiresome detail of being the boss.
But I’m slightly surprised to see Frank Henderson’s name pop up on the screen because we just saw each other a couple nights ago. Even worse, I just spent half of my morning musing about his daughter’s lush figure. Shaking my head at the inappropriate direction of my thoughts, I answer the phone in what I hope is a neutral tone.
“Hey battle,” I greet. A battle buddy is Army slang for someone who’s seen service with you, and I haven’t used it in some time. Frank merely snorts in reply.
“God, I haven’t heard that one in a while,” he sighs. “Brings back memories. How come we never use it anymore?”
“Maybe we should,” I quip. “It’s good to remember who we are,” I counter, which elicits another hefty snort from my friend.
“Were,” Frank retorts. I can almost hear him shaking his head through the phone. “Those days are so long ago, and I miss them sometimes,” he confesses.
This time, it’s my turn to roll my eyes.
“You miss the bad food and getting up at 4 a.m. to do ten-mile runs in the rain? Come on. What’s going on, bud?” I ask him, knowing from his tone that he has something on his mind.