Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Oh, I would have cleaned it up.” Her soft voice comes from behind me.
I turn my attention to her and do my best not to choke. She’s in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Both of them trace her curves so pleasantly, as if they were tailored for her. “I didn’t want it to seep into the wood. I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?”
“It’s a little tender, but I took a cooler shower than normal.” I close my eyes and try to breathe. My dick did not need the visual of her in the shower, but there it is. Like it’s on a fucking movie theater screen. My cock beats against my zipper, and I pray she doesn’t notice.
“You have hot chocolate on your coat.” She points to it, which I didn’t even notice.
“I believe it’s lost the hot part, but thank you.” I strip out of my coat and hat so they can be washed. This is my travel coat and not my usual work one, but it can go to the cleaners if it’s not machine washable.
I’m sure my hair looks a mess. I run my hands through my hair and raise my eyes to meet hers. I look past my dirty fascination of her naked and in the shower because the water washed off what little makeup she had on, and the telltale signs of a fading bruise mars her face. Yellow and purple spread from the apple of her cheek to under her eye.
I reach up and cup her face. “You can stay here as long as you need. No one is going to let anyone get on my property. Just so you know. You’re not going back to the bastard.”
“I wasn’t.” She steps back and says, “I made dinner. I thought you would have been back sooner, but I…” I can tell I’ve overstepped the boss-employee dynamic and she’s not quite ready for what I have in store.
“Sorry. I’ll make sure to tell you when I’m going to be late. Just because the lights are on, that doesn’t mean we were done. We did all we could until first light. Now—you said something about dinner?” I smile at her, which brings her own smile shining right back at me.
“Yes, it’s just a simple spaghetti with garlic bread.” There’s an upbeat tone to her voice that sounds full of hope.
“Thank you.” I follow her into the kitchen and see everything set up. The pasta is in a strainer and the sauce is on a low simmer. “It smells so good in here.” I can tell she’s a better cook than the last one.
“Thank you. Hopefully it tastes as good.”
“I know it did earlier,” I grunt out. She blushes and turns to the stove. Fuck, I need to calm down and hold back. “So Ava, when did you arrive in Snow Ridge?”
She sets down a plate with noodles and the meaty sauce on top, putting the garlic bread on the side. “Just before midnight on the twenty-third. Louisa and John were so kind to me. I know you don’t want me here, but I promise to keep to your schedule.”
“Are you not going to eat?” I ask, digging my fork into my pasta and stirring it.
“I ate some before you came back,” she answers as I let out another moan from her cooking.
“Not even a little garlic bread?” I cock my brow. It’s awkward to eat alone, especially because I actually want to impress her. Not that I’m even sure how to do it. It’s not that I haven’t dated in my life, but there’s something special pulling me to Ava.
“Okay. One more. It’s a weakness.” She takes one as I take a bite of my food. Fuck, we both moan, and I’m not sure if it’s the food that is that damn good or if that sound coming from her does the trick, but I’m captivated by her.
“It’s simply because it tastes so good.” I twist my fork in the noodles and bring it to my mouth. “I get up early, but if you have a hard time with that, as long as you make a pot of coffee to go off, I can manage until lunch.” I continue eating because this is the best meal I’ve had at home in a very long damn time.
She shakes her head and leans on the counter. “No, I can wake up early. What time?”
I give in because I can tell we’re going to argue about it. “Since it’s winter, I get up at six.” For the first time in my life, I actually want to spend time with one of my cooks. I want so much more than for her to cook for me, but one step at a time.
“Eggs and toast tomorrow okay?” she asks.
“That works,” I mutter through bites.