Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I stare at him, thinking about what Tani said last night. Ten years and I barely knew anyone in that high rise. Elliot has been a guest here for, as far as I know, a few months at most. Yet he seems completely at home.
Maybe he hops onto everybody’s balcony.
“Joey? Do you have a car?”
Shit, he’s still holding my stuff. I squint through the glass doors. “It looks like he’s already out front. You can set them by the door.”
“He?” He turns his head to follow my gaze. “Who? Mr. G?”
“Derek.” At least, that’s what Tani told me his name was. I tell myself to stop wasting time and turn to look at the last container. I’d pay a thousand bucks to know where that trolley cart is hiding right now.
“You named your car Derek?”
I snort and bend at the waist, slapping my knees like a sumo wrestler. I’ve got this. “The driver’s name is Derek. The car is a stranger. Hang on while I get a hold of this last one.”
I hear him set his load down and then he’s nudging me out of the way.
“You’re denting my self-confidence there, buddy,” I tell him. “Someone just told me I looked like I was in shape.”
He eyes me before nodding and stepping away. “I thought you might have a strain. Your back is tight,” he explains, looking slightly discomfited.
Now that my manhood is on the line, I don’t hesitate to heft the—holy shit, what did I put in this fucking thing?
“This is the most relaxed I’ve been all year,” I groan dishonestly, readjusting the weight to get a better handle on it. “But I appreciate the thought.”
I see the driver opening the lobby door for me. “Mr. Redmond?”
“Coming,” I wheeze. If I can make it to him without getting a hernia in front of Elliot, I’ll be redeemed.
“Oh, he’s not a driver. He’s your driver,” Elliott says beside me, the two tubs already back in his arms. “I didn’t know nanny wranglers had drivers.”
“I have a hard time focusing on the road, what with all the wrangling.”
“Can I take that, sir?” Derek asks as I lurch toward him, my back burning and a plea in my eyes.
“Joey,” I correct instantly, grunting in relief as the weight is removed from my arms.
“That must be the heaviest one,” I gasp at anyone who might be listening, bending at the waist to catch my breath. “Don’t hurt yourself, Derek. That is definitely the heaviest one.”
He wears an amused smile as he leaves me to place it easily into the back of the black SUV. He’s not even pretending to struggle. Way to make me look bad.
Once Elliot does the same, I adjust my bag while he lingers at the curb beside us. “What did I just help you carry?”
“Nothing illegal. We’re donating these to a youth center.”
Derek opens the car door and glances subtly at the watch on his wrist, but I hesitate. “Thanks for the help. I hope you have fun at the cages.”
Elliot’s wide smile blinds me. “Hey, why don’t you come with me? You could drop off your donations and let me give you a few pointers.”
He wants to give you pointers.
I’m adding fantasy fodder to my folder as we speak. Images of me holding a bat, Elliot wrapping his arms around me from behind as he adjusts my grip.
“Tighter. Yeah. Just like that.”
“I can’t,” I say hurriedly. “I want to, but I have a breakfast meeting and then I’ll be spending most of the day with the kids.”
“That’s cool.” He steps into my space again and lowers his voice. “I haven’t told you how grateful I am. For last night. I think this neighbor thing might work out after all.”
It’s tempting to let myself pretend that what he’s saying means more than it does. Something personal. But I’ve been down that road before, and I’ve always been wrong. “You might change your mind when I finally try out the oven and our whole floor smells like burning tires.”
He smiles at that. “Consider me warned. Do you think they have any group activities for kids Rue’s age at this center of yours? Her mother wasn’t big on her socializing. I thought if I got her used to other kids before she starts school—”
“I don’t think Bellamy House is for her,” I say, not unkindly. I have to admire how often his thoughts return to his child. It’s a sign he’s a natural.
It’s a sign he’s straight and sees you as a future babysitter.
“But I’m meeting people today who’ll know the answer to that better than I do,” I add. “I’ll ask around.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“That’s what I do.” I force myself not to throw him a cocky wink and offer him a complimentary blowjob. “You let me borrow your very valuable baseball muscles, so I sort of owe you now.”