Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
It was one of the ones that had a sponge that folded in on itself to squeeze out water, making the task easier as I started to mop up the puddles, not wanting his gorgeous hardwood floor to get ruined by them.
After a minute or two, I got that little skin prickling sensation I always did when someone was watching me, and looked up to see Seth leaning in the doorway, watching me in a similar way that I’d been inspecting him just moments before.
Was that a hint of heat in his eyes?
Or was that just wishful thinking on my part?
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, shaking his head at me.
“I was worried about your floors,” I admitted, getting the last bit of water then trying to bend down to grab the bucket to dump it.
Trying because Seth’s hand closed over mine on the handle.
I would like to say that there wasn’t a sizzle. That would be a lie. Actually, it was more than a sizzle. It was a spark that burned all the way up my arm until I suddenly yanked my hand away.
Luckily, Seth caught the bucket, and took it to dump it.
“Alright, well, that wasn’t how I planned for that to go,” Seth said when he was done.
“That is pretty much my personal mantra,” I said, getting a little chuckle out of him.
“You can let the dog out, by the way,” he said, smile tipping up as I felt my eyes widen. “Yeah, it’s a clever bag, but he’ must be trying to get into a more comfortable spot because he keeps moving the bag.”
“I’m so sorry. I try not to leave him home because, well, I’m not supposed to have him where I am, and I live in fear of him barking or something when I’m not there. Your dog-friendly policy might be what I am most excited about,” I added as I walked over, grabbed the considerable heft that was Rodney, and put him down on the floor. Where he dropped his ass down, sat, and panted at us. “I mean, he’s almost not even a dog, just a decorative statue.”
“Do you want some water for him?” he asked as Rodney noisily breathed.
“Maybe? I mean, he always sounds like this, but it never hurts.”
Then this man got him a glass bowl and filtered water out of a pitcher in his fridge.
I practically fell in love with him right there.
In my opinion, men who were sweet with animals were generally good people.
That was something I should have taken as a sign before.
No.
Nope.
I wasn’t going to let those kinds of thoughts ruin this for me.
“Your house is beautiful,” I told him.
“But?” he asked, sensing it.
“It’s a little but,” I started, hating that I was so transparent. “But you should hire the people who did the landscaping at the range to do your front beds.”
“That would be my brothers,” he said. “Biker brothers,” he clarified. “I’m in an MC,” he added.
Oh, that was kind of sweet. He and his little biker buddies wore those vests with the patches on them and went for drives and stuff. Cute.
“Well, they did a great job.”
“Thanks. Do you want to wait for the coffee, or look at the house first, then circle back for it?” he asked as he poured some water into the machine, then flicked it on.
“House first, I guess. I’ve been crossing my fingers all night that it would be a good fit,” I added as I followed him to the back door, Rodney chugging along behind us.
“I feel like I should warn you,” he said as we moved into the backyard.
And, God, it was perfect.
Not huge, which was normal for this area. But definitely big enough for kids to run around, play tag, practice sports, all that stuff that made a childhood. And it was green and mostly open with a few trees to provide needed shade.
“Warn me?” I asked, tensing.
I couldn’t help it. My life was forever waiting for the other shoe to fall. I hoped, one day, to break that negative thought cycle. But that would require that things actually go right for a change.
“Look, I’m not trying to be nosy or anything, but I noticed the carseats, and I just think it might be a little small for your needs,” he said, waving over toward the cottage I’d seen in the pictures.
“I promise, it’s not,” I assured him. Leaving out that, for a couple of weeks, we’d been living in our car. Two kids, a newborn, a dog, and me.
I could make literally anything else work.
The cottage itself was, really, not much bigger than a large shed, but it looked new and kept well with its own little front porch with a rocking chair.
“It’s darling,” I told him as he moved up the porch and unlocked the door.