Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. So, now, I have all kinds of research to do, calls to make, and things to handle. My sulking time is officially over. It’s back to real life.”
“I have a request,” I say, leaning into her and pressing my lips to hers.
“What’s that?” she asks.
“Next time, just say, “Shit day. Need Liv.” And I’ll know that you’re okay but just need some girl time.”
“I was embarrassed,” she says simply. “It’s not that I prefer Liv. It’s that I know she’s going to love me no matter what. And you and I are still new. I didn’t want to admit to you that I fucked up on something so important.”
“Did you think I’d judge you? Or that I’d decide I didn’t want you just because you had an off day at work?”
“No, that sounds ridiculous,” she mutters. “We’re new, like I said. And at that moment, Olivia knew what I needed to feel better.”
“Now, I know, as well. Pizza and ice cream.”
She laughs and then nods. “You’re not wrong. Thanks for being so nice to me.”
“Oh, I wanted to spank your ass when you told me to leave yesterday.”
She quirks an eyebrow, and her eyes fill with interest. “Is that so?”
“Mm.”
She licks her lips. “I don’t think I would hate that.”
Is there any wonder why I’m so crazy about her?
“Shall we try for dinner again tonight?” I ask her.
“Absolutely. I’ll be there.”
“Good. I hate to go, but I have to get to the office.”
“It’s okay. I need to get a move on myself.” She checks the time and then dives for the donut box. “Oh, my God, these are my favorite.”
“How convenient.” After she takes a bite, I kiss her sugar-coated lips and then stand to leave before I change my mind and tumble her into that ice-cream-covered bed for the day. “I should be home by about six.”
“Perfect,” she says with her mouth full. “Have a nice day, dear.”
I shake my head. Now that things are set to rights again, I leave to get my day started.
“Okay, be honest,” Stella says as she carries our plates to the sink. “Did you really cook that yourself?”
“With my own hands,” I lie easily, amused when she narrows her eyes at me, clearly suspicious. “Why? You think I can’t?”
“I didn’t say that.” She rinses the dishes and then sets them in the dishwasher. “I’m just looking around the kitchen, and it doesn’t look nearly as messy as it should for chicken cordon bleu with scalloped potatoes and roasted carrots. I mean, where’s the pan you roasted the carrots in?”
“Maybe I’m excellent at cleaning as I go—which is the only right way to cook. My mother taught me that.”
Stella purses her lips and stares at me through narrowed eyes. “I don’t buy it.”
I can’t help it; I laugh as I cross to her and kiss the crown of her head, breathing her in.
“You caught me. I ordered it on my way home and plated it up before you got here.”
“Well, it was damn good. What should we do now? Want to watch a movie?”
“Actually, I have to take you somewhere.”
“Oh. Okay, where?”
“It’s kind of lame,” I warn her, feeling more than a little silly.
“Now I’m dying to know.”
“Well, Willie’s grandma, Betty, plans a once-a-month ice cream social for everyone in the building. It’s tonight. And if I don’t at least show my face there for five minutes, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Ice cream is never lame,” she says, pointing her perfectly manicured finger at my chest.
“Betty even provides whipped cream and cherries.”
“Even less lame, then. Let’s go.”
We start the dishwasher and then leave the condo, heading to the lobby on the first floor. When we’re in the elevator, I glance down at her.
“I feel you looking at me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You have an elevator fetish.”
“I didn’t,” I reply as we reach the first floor. “Until I met you.”
We step out, and I’m not surprised to find that most of the other tenants have already been here and left.
“There you are,” Betty says, shaking the business end of an ice cream scoop my way. “I thought you’d forgotten.”
“I value my life too much for that,” I reply. “And I’d like you to meet Stella.”
“Finally,” Betty says with a smile as she walks over to join us. “Willie talked about you all last week. You’re as pretty as he said you were.”
“Thanks,” Stella says with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Gray said you do this every month?”
“It’s the best way for me to keep an eye on my neighbors,” Betty says, covering the side of her mouth like it’s some big secret. “Why, just last month, I learned that the Davidsons from the third floor are getting a divorce. I would never have gotten that information otherwise.”