Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
He scissored her messy bangs between his middle and forefingers and used the tiny butterfly clip she’d put in his hair just the night before to pin her hair back and out of her eyes. He trailed his fingers down over her cheek and leaned down to drop a sweet kiss on her mouth.
“Breakfast?” he asked after ending the all-too-brief caress.
“I should get home.” He nodded before turning away to reach for something.
“Not without coffee,” he instructed, dropping a mug on the counter in front of her. Daff hummed happily as her senses perked up at just the smell of the freshly brewed coffee and gratefully wrapped her hands around the warm mug.
“Sit down, I wouldn’t want you to slice your feet. I’m not sure I got all the shards.”
“Where are my things?” she asked, moving far away from the island and taking a seat in one of the huge easy chairs in his living room instead.
“You didn’t bring them out of the bathroom last night, so I put them in the dryer about ten minutes ago. They may still be a bit damp, I’m afraid.”
“It’s okay, I won’t have to be in them for too long.”
“Finish your coffee, we’ll take them out of the dryer after you’re done.” He grabbed a mug for himself and joined her in the living room, taking the chair opposite hers.
“Dinner tonight?” he asked nonchalantly, sprawling in the chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him. He looked much too relaxed for her liking.
“Can’t,” she said. “I’m meeting my sisters tonight; Daisy wants to discuss bridesmaid dresses.”
“Afterward?”
“I’m not sure how long it’ll be. I can’t give you a definite time.”
“I’ll be here,” he said with a shrug, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Will I see you at lunchtime?” she asked, hating the hopeful note in her voice.
“No.” She was ridiculously disappointed by his curt, unyielding response and strove to maintain a casual demeanor.
“Okay. Cool.”
They sat drinking their coffee in silence, and Daff couldn’t tell if it was an awkward silence or a comfortable one. He seemed comfortable enough, but she felt awkward as hell.
“I should get going,” she said after a few minutes, and he nodded, placing his mug on the coffee table and pushing to his feet when she jumped to hers. He was beside her in half a stride and cupped her cheeks in his large palms.
“Hey,” he said calmly, forcing her to meet his tranquil green gaze. “Relax. No regrets, remember?”
She reached up and closed her hands over his.
“No regrets,” she repeated determinedly, hoping to make it her mantra.
“So,” he said, keeping his hands on her face and his eyes steady on hers, “how do you want to play this no-strings sex thing? Nobody knows? Everybody knows? Only a select few know?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Siblings?”
“Daisy’s going to flip her shit if she thinks this may affect the wedding.”
“Hmm.”
“I don’t know what that one means,” she confessed, and his brow furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“That particular grunt. I’ve been learning to decipher them, but that one always leaves me stumped.”
“They don’t mean anything,” he denied, and she scoffed.
“Please, you say more with your noises than most people do in a full conversation.”
“They’re just fillers.”
“They’re so not fillers, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise.”
“Hmm.” She giggled in response to that, and he frowned again.
“Wiseass,” she dismissed.
“It was just a grunt,” he maintained, looking a little freaked out.
“Nope, that one was facetious and meant ‘Believe what you want, Daffodil McGregor, you’re a nutcase.’” She deepened her voice to imitate his, and his resulting smile was a charming mixture of bemusement and amusement.
“First, I do not sound like that. Second, you are a nutcase. And third, it’s just a grunt.”
“Ri-iight.” He huffed in amusement and planted a kiss on her mouth without any warning. He took advantage of her openmouthed shock by immediately plundering with his tongue and leaving her completely shell-shocked and shaky after the stealth attack.
“Get dressed, darling,” he said hoarsely after ending the kiss. “Or I’ll be tempted to call in sick and keep you here in nothing but that pajama top—or less—all day. You look sexy as hell in it.”
She carried that kiss with her throughout the morning. She got to work after him and so missed his walk past her shop window for the second time that week. She sighed regretfully as she sipped her third cup of coffee—including the one she’d had at his house.
She couldn’t believe how fast things had happened between them over the space of just days, after so many years of buildup. If anybody had told her last week she’d be contemplating a sex-only arrangement with Spencer Carlisle this week, she’d have laughed them out of the room, and yet here she was, thinking about nothing but his tongue on her most intimate body parts. Reliving their moments together over and over again.