Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“This is more than okay,” I tell him, getting out of the tub. He kisses me and then walks out of the room to go order the Chinese, leaving me to dry off. I slip into the robe and then walk downstairs to find him. He’s sitting in the living room. I walk in and see the same view as in his bedroom, wall-to-wall windows showcasing the beautiful sunset. It’s such a big living room that it’s divided into three. I walk past the fireplace in the middle of the room with two chairs in front of it and then toward the L-shaped gray couch that faces the water. “It’s so pretty,” I say, going to sit next to him in the middle of the couch and curling my feet under me. “Did you order?”
“I did. It should be here in about thirty minutes. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered more food than we will eat.” He looks over at me.
“So tell me about New Orleans.” I’m still not sure if I want to go.
“It’s a place I’m opening, and I have to go for the ribbon cutting.” He pushes the robe from my legs and puts his arm over them and rubs them. “So I am flying in on the fifteenth and coming back the next day.”
“Wow,” I say, smiling. “That’s amazing and sounds so formal. Ribbon cutting.” Leaning in, I kiss his lips. “I would love to.”
“I’m going to get us a jet early morning,” he tells me.
“Or we can go down on the Friday night and walk Bourbon Street,” I tell him. “I might even flash the boobs to get some beads.” I laugh when he glares at me. “I can do it privately.” Leaning in, I kiss his neck.
“If you really want to flash your boobs, we can eat naked.” He rubs my legs. “I can get some melted chocolate.”
I laugh now. “Cherie …” I swallow, wanting to kick myself for calling him that. “If you want to eat chocolate off me, all you have to do is ask.” He laughs, and the doorbell rings.
“Stay here,” he says, and I shake my head.
“I’m wearing my good robe,” I tell him. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” I smack his ass and walk to the kitchen and take a deep breath. I called him cherie. Fuck. I need to reel this shit in, I think to myself and then look at the end of the counter and there sits the fishbowl. “Well, hello there, Elsa,” I say, going over and tapping the fishbowl. “I told you I would find you a good home.”
“Hope you’re hungry,” he says, coming in the kitchen with two huge bags in a cardboard box. He puts it on the counter and starts taking things out.
“What did you order?” I laugh, grabbing the other bag.
“Pretty much anything he suggested,” he says, grabbing an egg roll and taking a bite, then holding it to my lips and offering me a bite.
“Thank you,” I say, opening the chopsticks that came in the bag and pulling them apart and taking a piece of beef.
“I guess we’re eating here,” he says, going to get plates and spoons. I open all the containers and place them together. “Almost like a buffet.”
“Bien sûr,” I say, grabbing a plate and filling it. “I’m starving.”
We sit at the table, and I tell him about the movies I watched with the girls, and he tells me about Matthew complaining about being kicked in the balls. He tells me stories that make me laugh until my stomach hurts. And when I finally look around, the sun is setting. “I should get going.” I pick up my plate and take it to the dishwasher.
“Why?” he asks me. “Let’s watch a movie.” He gets up, rinsing off his plate and putting it in the dishwasher. “You choose.”
“Wow,” I say, drying my hands. “You want me to stay so badly, you are willing to watch a French movie?”
He shrugs. “Can’t be that bad,” he says, and I shake my head. “I mean, we can always binge watch a show on Netflix.”
“Mad Men,” I tell him. “Matthew and Karrie started watching it, and apparently, it’s my kind of show.”
“Then Mad Men it is,” he says, and we put the food away. He grabs the fish food and throws a little bit in the bowl. “See, it’s super easy.” I roll my eyes, and he grabs us two water bottles, grabbing my hand and leading me to his media room.
“This is so nice,” I say, seeing one wall with the projection screen on it. Eight big leather seats, four in the back and four in the front, have steps on the side of them. He dims the lights, and I look in the corner and see the snack table. “You have this whole setup.”