Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“Me too.” Her voice wobbles. But then she takes a breath. “But it’s fine. I’m fine.” She separates from me, smooths her skirt, and drapes on a smile. “We can still get a drink and try that thing from the list.”
Oh, hell no. “Veronica, you don’t have to put on a brave face for me.”
“But I want to do number four,” she says, imploring, and I believe her but in the broad sense, not the right now sense.
I reach for her hand, lock my fingers with hers. “Look, sex is the ultimate feel-good drug. And I want to do so many damn things with you,” I say, resisting the urge to admit that this list of five is nowhere near enough. I want ten, twenty, thirty to-do items with her. Hell, make that one hundred. “But let me take you out tonight. Let’s just wander around the park like we planned.” But I have a better idea. Something more fun—that’s what she needs right now. “Or . . . we could go to check out some rooftop gardens in Brooklyn. Go to some super-hip too-cool-for-school restaurant and people watch and make up stories. Then stop at a lingerie shop and buy you more of your crazy undies. Like a sexy bikini barely-there number with unicorns on it,” I say, wiggling my brows as I picture her sweet ass in a new pair of cheeky undies.
Now, she’s smiling for real. Laughing too. I drink in that look on her face, knowing I put it there, and I want to do that again and again.
“That sounds like fun, Mister Good Times,” she says.
“That’s me, and you need fun,” I say, and I wish I could offer her a true solution. Like a job. “I would hire you, Veronica. I mean it. I would hire you full-time. You’re the best thing to happen to the store.” I bring my finger to my lips. “Don’t tell Iris, but you’re the real star.”
She scoffs, all faux bashful. “Stahp, stahp.”
But she’s still grinning, and I can’t help myself. I take both her hands in mine and pull her close. “You’re the secret sauce. The magic bullet. You’re . . . my ace in the hole.”
“You want to put your ace in my hole,” she says with a wiggle of her brows.
“That’s my woman.”
Her expression falters at those words.
Shit. I called her my woman. But she does feel like my woman, and I don’t know what the hell to do about that.
Veronica Valentine is wreaking havoc with my heart. I want to be the man to help her through these tough times. To solve this problem for her. “I know there’s a big world out there and so many things you can do. I could easily rattle off ten, twenty jobs for you. You’re so lively and clever, and you have such a big brain and heart,” I say.
She shakes her head, gently calling off my attempt to be helpful. “I don’t want to talk about work anymore. Can we just go . . . have fun?”
“Absolutely.”
I order a Lyft, and we spend the next few hours checking out rooftop gardens in Brooklyn, an herb shop, a crepe truck, and a stationery store where she buys new gel pens. When we’re done, she makes her way to the nearest subway station.
I shudder, grabbing her hand to stop her before she descends those dirty stairs. “I hate subways,” I say.
“Why? You don’t want to get your pretty clothes dirty?”
I nod. “Yes. That. Right there. Also, I don’t like rats, or poles that thousands of people touch, and well, crowds.”
“Fair enough,” she says with a laugh. “You’re seriously cute.”
We take a Lyft back to Grove Street. When the car drops us off, neither of us asks where we’re spending the night. We just grab our dogs, go for a walk, and wind up back at her place.
But we don’t tackle an item on her extra list—sixty-nine.
Instead, when we get into bed, I bring her into an embrace under the covers.
“Milo,” she whispers, sounding concerned.
“Yes?”
“I’m not broken. Even though I had a bad day, I still want your dick.”
I laugh. “Have I mentioned I love your crassness?”
“A few times,” she says. She heaves a sigh, then stares at me in the dark, her gaze inquisitive. “But is there a reason you’re not trying to get me naked?”
She caught me, and I like it. Now I have to admit it, but Veronica makes sharing my heart easier than I’d expected.
“I think I just wanted to make sure I was giving you everything you needed in other ways first,” I confess, even if it gives away how much I care.
She leans closer, presses a firm kiss to my lips. “You are. Now, please, get the hell inside me.”
And the truth was worth it.