Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“He’s not my type,” she insisted. “He’s a reformed bad boy who hasn’t completely given up that edge,” she mused. “He’s bossy and determined. Dom is the right name for him. He gets what he wants.” She paused. “Everywhere.”
“I see.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. Mom and I had always been close. She hadn’t started dating for almost ten years after my dad passed. She’d tell me about failed date after failed date, laughing with me over some of the men she’d go out with. Boring. Dull. Too much. Too fast. They ranged in their differences, with one thing in common: Mom wasn’t interested.
I had a feeling even though she was fighting it, Dom was different.
“But he is so sweet,” she murmured. “Thoughtful. Giving. I haven’t felt like a sexy woman in years. Since your dad. Last night, I was reminded of the fact that I was.” She swallowed. “Several times.”
“Um…”
She kept talking. “And he came in here and reminded me again.”
At what was my no-doubt horrified expression, she waved her hand. “We didn’t. But the man can kiss. And what a dirty talker.” She fanned herself. “My, my, my.”
I laughed again. “If you like him, and he likes you, why are you fighting it?”
“He lives here. I live in Toronto. I am too old to be in a casual hookup, whenever-you’re-in-town woman. I don’t want that.”
“Is that what Dom wants? He seems pretty steady.”
“Long-distance relationships are too hard, jellybean.”
“Not if you really want them.”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure I do.”
I thought she was full of it, but I didn’t push her. I wanted her happy. I almost pointed out there were salons here as well. That she could move here and be close to me, but it was too early in the relationship to push that angle. I had to let her figure it out the same way she stepped aside and let me figure out my life. But I did plan on getting to know Dom a little more. I intended to take him up on his lunch offer. And if everything went according to plan, he’d be at the house this weekend to work on the roof. Maybe I would get Mom to come back out so we could work on the garden at the same time.
I grinned at my thoughts. I was sure Chase would agree to help me. I knew he admired Dom a lot, and I was certain he would like to see them together.
I’d discuss it with him tonight at home.
I moved on to the next set of files with a smile tugging on my mouth.
Chase.
I hadn’t expected him. I hadn’t expected us. I had hoped to get to know him. To discover if he liked me the way I liked him. I never thought the inferno between us would be so fast or so intense. Not long ago, I had thought it had been a mistake to even try—that I needed to move out and forget my fledgling feelings. Now, I was in his bed, wrapped tight in his arms every night. I thought about him all the time. He admitted he felt the same about me. He was protective, caring, sexy, and funny. The whole package.
And he was mine.
Yesterday after my mom left, I washed the sheets and made up the bed. Chase watched me, trying to help with his clumsy attempts. I had seen him dismantle an engine. Watched him work a pattern in leather that was intricate and perfect. But tuck in a sheet? He was helpless.
“She only slept in the bed one night,” he said. “You could have just made it up for her for next time.”
“I prefer clean sheets.” I shrugged, tugging on the blanket to straighten it out. Chase was behind me in an instant, spinning me in his arms.
“You aren’t sleeping in here tonight. Or tomorrow.”
I blinked up at his vehemence. “I’m not?”
“No. You sleep in our bed, down the hall, with me. I decree this the guest room now, unless you’re pissed at me.”
“You decree? Like a king or something?” I laughed, teasing him. His words made my heart soar. I wanted to sleep with him. I felt safe and protected. Wanted and adored.
“Damn right. King of this castle.” He swept me up in his arms. “And you are my freaking queen. You sleep beside me. End of story.”
He tossed me on his—our—bed and crawled on top, hovering over me. “You hear me, Cinnamon?”
“Shouldn’t that be Queen Cinnamon?” I murmured, running my finger along his jaw.
His eyes darkened, becoming heated.
“You are,” he agreed. “So I am going to worship you.”
I felt my cheeks flush as I recalled how hard he had worshiped me. A throat clearing startled me, and I looked up into the eyes of the chief. He smiled at me. “Catching up on the filing, Hannah?”