Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“You are strong. So it sounds perfect,” he says, then holds my gaze for a beat as he drops bananas and kale into the blender. “Which means it’ll make you feel great when you have to deal with an uncomfortable meeting.”
I’ve been dreading today, and I told both men as much last night. “Thank you. I’ll shower in a bit and then get dressed. Maybe I’ll let you see it then.”
“I’ll finally get my fashion show,” he says.
“If you’re a good boy,” I tease. My phone buzzes on the counter, and I grab it. Oh! It’s another email from Birdie. She already told me she loved my first piece when I turned it in a few days ago. “Your Runway wants another piece. This one is on secondhand fashion.”
“That’s your thing,” he says.
“And that’s her thing. They sponsor the Secondhand Fashion Show in LA every December. It’s a bunch of designers mixing and matching their older pieces in new ways,” I say, and when he asks more about it, I give him all the details.
“Sounds right up your alley,” he says, then surreptitiously, or so he no doubt thinks, offers a slice of banana to Roxy.
She wolfs it down as he covers the blender and blitzes the ingredients for his morning kale smoothie. The machine grinds at top volume, and I shake my head, amused, when he turns it off. “I still don’t get how he can sleep through that,” I say, pointing at the bedroom door.
“It’s his superpower.”
“What’s yours?”
He flicks out his tongue, giving me a salacious onceover.
“I walked right into that one.”
He lifts a hand, brandishing his palm. “You can walk into this one again too, sweetheart.”
I want that as well. But I’ve also been meaning to ask him something. “The first night I stayed at your house. You said it was home enough. What did you mean?”
He sighs as he pours some of his drink into a tumbler. “You noticed that.” He sounds…grateful.
“It was hard not to.”
He’s uncharacteristically quiet for a beat, and while I could say you don’t have to tell me, Stefan’s an adult. He knows he can opt out if he wants. After he takes a drink of his smoothie and sets it down, he says, “Sometimes I miss home. My brothers and sisters. They’re all settled in Copenhagen. My parents too. I miss the family gatherings, the big dinners, the bike rides along the water. Just the life I was used to there.”
“That makes sense,” I say.
“But I’ll see them soon enough. They’ll probably come here in December. My parents, I mean.”
“For the holidays?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll go there if I can. They’ll try to be here for The Sports Network awards.”
Ah. He mentioned those the other night, and Hayes teased him. But I can tell it’s important to him to see his folks. Maybe even to make them proud. “You sound excited about that.”
His lips curve in a slight grin, like he’s not quite going to admit his anticipation out loud. “Well, I like them. It’d be nice if they were here.”
“I hope they can make it.” A new worry digs into me. Is he still carrying a flame for Annika? Do I want to ask? But we’re temporary. This is an arrangement, so there’s no harm in asking. “Do you miss your ex?”
I hold my breath, but not for long. “At first, yes,” he answers. “But then I realized after we split what I missed was the connection to home. The familiarity. She was from the same place as me. She knew the same people.” He seems more clinical than wistful. “I was missing that more than anything. And then after a while I was missing…someone.”
He locks eyes with me and holds my gaze importantly. Does he want that with me? A connection with someone? That’s hard to fathom, given my speckled relationship history, so I sidestep even the possibility. “Do you want to go home and see your family? I get to see mine when I want, so maybe I take it for granted.”
“Yeah, someday,” he says, then knocks back some more smoothie. “You’d like it there.” There’s no question in his remark. It’s a certainty that I’d enjoy his hometown.
“I would?”
“Yes.” He beckons me with his finger, and I move around the counter and join him. “Because I’d take you to the river…” He presses a hot kiss to my throat. “I’d run my hands through your hair. I’d tell you how fucking sexy you are while I slide a hand under your skirt and fuck you with my fingers as the boats go by.”
My pulse gallops. “Sounds like a good trip,” I say, my skin buzzing with excitement.
“You’d like that,” he says, then takes a quick break to scoop up my dog and bring her to the couch. Couches are her kryptonite, so she curls up in a dog ball. Stefan returns to me and pulls up the hem of my cover-up, inch by inch, revealing pink cotton panties.