Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“I haven't really had...relationships per se. Not sure they can be considered an ex if it wasn't ever serious.”
“Oh, I get it now.”
I eye her curiously. “What?”
“You're a fuck boy.”
Her bluntness has me smirking. “I'm too old to be considered a fuck boy. I date women to see if we're a good match, and none have worked out long-term.”
“Fine, fuck man.” She shrugs, taking a bite of chicken and moaning. “Serial dater who's too afraid to settle down or commit—like every other man in this world. I'm sure you had no problem sleeping with them first before deciding they weren't the one.”
“Sounds like you have me all figured out.”
“Don't tell me I've hurt your feelings?”
“Yep, I'm gonna cry myself to sleep tonight.”
She rolls her eyes as I crack a smile.
“I doubt you've ever cried over a woman in your life.”
Jesus Christ. Says the one who’s currently giving me emotional whiplash.
“Do you want more water?” I ask.
She furrows her brow at my abrupt subject change.
“Or should we talk about your dating history now?” I taunt.
“Absolutely not.”
“I can't imagine why you'd have relationship issues,” I say dryly, earning me a scowl. “With you being so pleasant and sweet, it's a mystery to me.”
“Are you done?”
Her resting bitch face has me fighting back a smile because she's a natural.
“Dessert?” I ask, grabbing my plate and bringing it to the sink.
“Depends. Does it come with your sarcasm and bad jokes? Because if so, I'll pass.”
“Suit yourself. Thirty-eight women think my jokes are fuck-worthy.”
Her eyes widen in horror as she nearly chokes on her pasta. “Total or...this year?”
Instead of answering her, I grab a fudge pop from the freezer, then shoot her a wink.
I'll let Judge Judy overthink that one for a bit.
There's no denying Fallon has some serious past relationship trauma that she's externalizing onto me for the simple fact that I have a dick. She acts like every guy is out to hurt her, and if that's the case, I'll tread lightly. I want her to feel comfortable enough to drop the act and, eventually, her guard. Her brick walls are tall and built to withstand a category five hurricane.
I’d like for her to trust me and know that I only have good intentions.
And in order to do that, she’ll need to open up.
After dinner, we go our separate ways. She curls up on the couch, and Dasher, the traitorous shit, stays down there with her while I go upstairs. It's pitch-black in my room, but I know every inch of my house like the back of my hand. But since Fallon doesn't, I make sure to leave a flashlight on the coffee table so she can find her way to the bathroom.
I strip down to my boxers and slide under the covers, hoping the power and phone service come back on tomorrow.
Since the storm has fully passed, the state snow plows should be out clearing the roads for the lineman. As long as the wind stays calm, I’ll be able to clear the driveway so we can get out of the house. I'm ready to go back to the farm and show my favorite Ebenezer Scrooge around town.
I fall asleep with thoughts of Fallon on my mind, but when I wake to her soft voice, my first thought is that I'm dreaming.
“Levi,” she repeats my name, shaking my arm.
“What is it?” I murmur.
“The fire needs more wood, and there's none left in the house,” she tells me.
“How's that possible?” I turn toward her with half-opened eyes.
“I don't know, it's been burning for three days straight? Can you grab some more?”
“It's the middle of the night, Fallon. I'll do it first thing in the morning.”
“But I'm freezing my ass off now. What do you expect me to do until then?”
I roll over and pull back the covers. “Get in.”
“What?”
“I'll give you my body heat so you won't freeze to death.”
My eyes finally adjust to the dark, and I see she's wrapped tightly in her blanket.
“How are you only wearing shorts?”
“The cold doesn't bother me, Fallon. You climbing in or what?”
“I guess you leave me no choice,” she mutters bitterly, and I stifle a laugh. There's the Fallon I know.
“You're welcome to take off your clothes, too.”
“Oh my God, you fucking creeper.” She whacks my chest.
“Jesus Christ, woman. Do you know any survival skills?”
“Huh?” She pulls the covers up and snuggles underneath.
“Skin-to-skin contact helps regulate temperature so you warm up faster than you do wearing clothes,” I explain.
“Oh, well...no thanks. I'm good.”
“Okay, but if your razor blade nipples cut me, I'm suing.”
The back of her hand finds my chest again, and I snicker.
“You sure you want to sleep next to a fuck boy?” I tease, throwing her own words at her.
“You gonna cry if I say no?”
This time I bellow out a laugh.
“You wound me, Fallon Joy.”