Reluctant Husband (Whiskey Men #1) Read Online Hope Ford

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Whiskey Men Series by Hope Ford
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Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
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I freeze, my back to him, and then I bolt up, realizing that I’m leaning over his kitchen counter, and all he can see is my large ass up in the air. Fuck, what is wrong with me? I grab a towel that’s setting off to the side and start wiping down the counter I was just leaning over. Cleaning is not any part of my job, but I need to be busy. “Yes, fine. I’m good. You off to work?” I grimace. “I mean, it’s none of my business. You don’t have to answer that. Have a nice day. Be careful.”

I completely blurt it all out in one big breath, and then I force my mouth closed to keep from rambling and making an even bigger fool of myself.

I still haven’t looked at him, but I can feel him move closer to me. Breathe, Isabella. Breathe, I tell myself.

I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

He comes to stand in front of me and is watching me. I cover my arms over my chest and figure the best offense is a good defense. “Dancing is how she exercises. She doesn’t like walking or Pilates; all the ups and downs is too hard for her. I promise I’ve tried it all, and dancing is what makes her happy.”

I seem to have surprised him. He opens his mouth and closes it. I look him straight in the eye because I know if I don’t, I’ll be looking at the way his button-down shirt stretches across his chest. Or the way the sleeves are fitted against his muscular arms. Not that looking at his face is helping me any. Lucas is a very handsome man with his dark hair and eyes. His hair is getting a little long and hanging on his forehead. I form my hand into a fist to stop myself from reaching for him and pushing it off his face.

He tilts his head to the side. “And the music? You think rap music is the most appropriate for her to be dancing to? I mean, not that I didn’t enjoy your little twerking–”

My mouth falls open. “I wasn’t twerking.”

He shrugs. “Trust me, honey, it sure looked like twerking.”

I put my face in my hands, embarrassed, and then it hits me. Did he just say he enjoyed it? My head snaps up, and my eyes fly to his. He’s looking at me in a way he’s never looked at me before, but of course it could just be that he thinks I’m going to throw myself at him any minute. What I thought was a lifting of his lips drops, and he stares back at me, guarded.

I put my hands on my hips. “Look, I know you don’t like me. I know you don’t think I’m the best person for this job.”

He shakes his head slowly. “I didn’t say that.”

I take a step toward him, and he takes a step back. My hands fist at my sides. Yep, he thinks I’m going to throw myself at him. I stand perfectly still, not leaning toward him like my body wants to. “You don’t have to say it. It’s obvious, and that’s fine. But I promise you that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for your grandmother. I love her, and if there is any point where I feel that I’m not qualified to take care of her, you will be the first to know. I promise.” As an afterthought, I add, “And I never break a promise.”

I say it with all sincerity because it’s the truth. I do love his grandmother, and I’d do anything for her.

He doesn’t say anything. I figured he’d give me some kind of warning, something, but all he does is stand in front of me and stare at me. The silence becomes a little overwhelming, especially when he looks me up and down. I’m not prepared as his gaze travels down my body and up again. My nipples are puckered tight, and I cross my arms over my chest to hide the arousal I feel from him looking at me. Heck, just a look and I’m like a cat in heat, ready and willing to slide my body along his.

His nostrils flare, but that’s the only change to his face. “I know you love Lottie.”

I wait for more, but nothing else comes. I point up toward the ceiling. “I’d better get back up there.”

I turn to leave, but he reaches out, grabbing my arm to stop me. “Do you have a boyfriend, Isabella?”

I clench my eyes. Well, damn. He’s probably worried about me living in his house now. He probably thinks that I’m going to be throwing myself at him or damn, sneaking into his bedroom. Without turning around, I answer him. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Lucas.”


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