Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“I…of course, I did. I love the kid.”
“Yeah, I know.” I passed a napkin over and pretended not to notice as she swiped at a tear. “So, come around sometime. I think you’d be good for the team.”
“As a fuckin’ mascot?”
“Exactly.” I put my arm around her bony shoulders, squeezing gently.
She gave me a watery half smile. “I’ll think about it. Now go on, get out. And quit flirting with me. You’re crushing my cigarette and spilling my tea.”
“All right, all right.” I raised my hands in surrender and stepped aside. “See ya, Annie.”
My brain was still buzzing later that night. After blowing Bryson in the foyer the second he walked in the door, I’d fucked him over the sofa. That was usually enough to quiet my mind, but I had a lot of excess energy, which made it the perfect time to finally tackle a few household chores.
“So…painting. How does this work?” Bryson asked, staring at the can of paint and the roller brushes on the card table in the middle of the room.
“Didn’t you go to kindergarten?”
“Many, many years ago. And this isn’t finger painting, smartass.”
“It isn’t rocket science either. We’re just rolling paint on a wall. Nice and easy. Watch.” I coated the roller in white paint and moved to the solid wall across from the fireplace, painting a long swath from the top corner to the midsection and made a small square, then filled it in. “There are all kinds of techniques, but I like to do a zigzag pattern to get more coverage at once. You try.”
Bryson tentatively picked up a roller. “How much paint should I use?”
I stepped behind him and curled my fingers around his, sliding the brush in the tray. I bit his earlobe. “This much.”
He shot a dirty look over his shoulder. “Don’t distract me. I could do some terrible damage here.”
I snort-laughed. “No, you couldn’t. Anything will be an improvement over this color.”
“Yeah, but I might drip the paint or make streaks or…press too hard.”
“Bry?” I waited for him to meet my eyes and continued, “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”
I could have sworn I witnessed a battle of sorts play out under his carefully neutral expression. He didn’t agree with me, and yet he didn’t seem comfortable enough with his reasoning to fight about it.
“Okay, let the record show that you were warned,” he remarked, cupping his hand under the roller on his way to the wall.
“You don’t have to be so cautious. I have tarps down to catch any spills.” I bumped his hip playfully and started on the wall that divided the kitchen from the living area.
“Did you order the sectional we were looking at online?” he asked conversationally.
“Yep. We can’t, in good conscience, keep fucking on a borrowed sofa. I should get a coffee table too. Want to go shopping with me?”
Bryson did a double take. “Together?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. You said the best furniture stores are in Pinecrest. We could check one or two out and have lunch or dinner or something.”
“Like a date?”
“Uh…sure. I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date date. It could be more like a couple of guys looking at furniture,” I assured him quickly, narrowing my gaze when his shoulders shook in amusement. “What’s so funny?”
“Us. We sound like dating rookies.”
“I am a dating rookie.” I wrinkled my brow, my paint brush frozen an inch from the wall. “I haven’t been on one in…years.”
Bryson widened his eyes incredulously. “You never dated after your divorce?”
“Nope. I screwed around some, but never with anyone I wanted to see on a regular basis.”
“Me either. And I live in Elmwood.”
“Hmm. Folks are a little nosy here, eh?”
He snickered. “You’ve noticed? Nothing stays quiet for long. By the way, do you know why you shouldn’t tell secrets in a cornfield?”
“Dad joke break,” I groaned. “I give up. Why not?”
“Too many ears.” He winked and cast a goofy grin that complemented the streak of paint on his cheek.
The contrast of Bryson’s GQ handsome exterior and his occasionally adorkably uncool outbursts got me. His relentlessly wholesome vibes made it hard to believe he’d known some dark times. In some ways, he was a mystery and yet, he was friendly and accessible. The kind of guy you’d trust with your biggest fears and lowest moments, knowing he wouldn’t judge. He was solid and honest, and…real.
I gave in to impulse and left my station on the opposite wall to kiss him breathless. “You’re a fuckin’ geek and I have no idea why that’s sexy, but it is.”
Bryson fluttered his lashes, panting as he snickered. “A sexy geek? I like that.”
“Me too.” I nibbled his chin and smacked his ass before picking up my brush again. “I gotta stay away from you, or this room is never going to get painted.”