Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Since Rip owned the firm, his office was huge and in the very back at the end of the hall.
I’d have peace.
Quiet.
A few minutes of sanity, even though I knew I would miss the kids because although it was stressful, they were ours, they were family, and seeing them reminded me of all those small moments that mattered, moments that you sometimes don’t cherish enough because you always assume they’ll be there.
At least I wouldn’t have constant distractions, which always derailed my writing. Even if I got in the zone, all it took was one interruption to pull me out of it, no matter how cute the interruption.
Two hours, zero disruptions, and three cups of coffee later and I felt like a new woman.
I’d already finished two of my articles and sent ideas to my boss for more content by noon. She’d been pretty understanding, but the blog she ran needed content, and the main part of my job was to bring that content at least three times a week, which before kids hadn’t been a huge deal. Now I was ready to open a bottle of wine for finishing a sentence.
I mentally patted myself on the back. Unfortunately, my self-congratulatory moment was short lived. “You’re not my cranky friend, Rip. Gotta admit, I like the view in here today way better. Smart woman with a pencil behind her ear, and what is that? A sundress? Let me guess, you purposely wear bright colors in hopes of giving Rip a heart attack?”
I gaped at the man standing in the doorway.
I couldn’t help it.
He was drop-dead gorgeous in a slap-you-in-the-face sort of way that had you wanting to rub your eyes just to make sure you weren’t hallucinating or, you know, dead.
The navy-blue suit he wore fit like it was custom tailored, and the top few buttons of his white shirt were undone, revealing a tan, firm chest. I could have sworn that he growled as he stalked toward the desk.
His hair fell in luscious, light-brown, messy waves that somehow managed to also look perfectly styled. Green eyes crinkled in amusement as he leaned his muscled body over the desk and said, “Tell me everything.”
“Huh?” Stop drooling, Colby! Is this the part where he throws all the contents of the desk onto the ground and whispers, “Take me, I’m yours”? No? And where the hell is the signup sheet for that sort of office experience?
“I said tell me everything, leave out no details. Just allow bathroom breaks and popcorn, because I have a feeling I’m going to be extremely entertained, and we can’t have my blood sugar dropping too much if you’re one of those people like Rip that takes about ten years to actually finish a story…” He finally took a breath. “I’ll sit.”
“The story…,” I repeated with an embarrassed smile. “To a stranger? And what story? How it’s going with a painfully anal individual under one roof with two kids—”
“I want to know how you got a few days off from mommy duty and managed to get Rip to agree to take care of the kids, because that’s pretty much like witnessing a damn miracle.” He took a breath before continuing. “He straightens his pencils… and now he’s home with a three-year-old doing God knows what… please tell me you have a nanny cam so we can spy on the chaos.”
“You talk a lot.” I frowned.
“Yes.” He nodded slowly. “Because if I don’t, I’ll die of boredom—you do realize this is an accounting firm, right? Do you even understand how boring it is? I’ve resorted to making up stories about the squirrels outside my window—they’re expecting, by the way.”
“Expecting what?”
“Puppies,” he deadpanned. “What do you think?”
I snorted out a laugh. “How would you even know?”
“Was a vet in the past life.” He snapped his fingers impatiently. “Now back to Rip. How did it go down?”
I sighed and closed my laptop. “Ten minutes, and then I need to get back to work.”
“Fifteen.”
“Twelve.”
His smile was wicked. “Deal.” He held out his hand. “I’m Banks, by the way, best friend to the anal man who normally occupies that desk and all-around cheerleader for Team Colby.”
“Well, in that case.” I grinned and leaned forward.
During the story of how Rip and I had come to switch places this week, he interrupted me about a million times and had to use the restroom twice, and by the time I was done, we’d been talking over an hour—or I’d been talking, he’d been interrupting. At least about halfway in, I finally got some of the story of how he’d ended up working with Rip and how they’d become the unlikeliest of friends, which of course made my stomach clench when I thought about Brooks and the bromance he and Rip had shared.
“Wow,” Banks said after a few beats of miraculous silence. “He must really like you, or you are a master negotiator. Which, come to think of it, I’ve seen evidence of when you agreed to tell me the story…”