Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Fletch puts the truck in park, opens the driver’s door, steps out of the truck, and my clit throbs. He’s changed since we parted ways at the pizza place. The one thing about not letting anyone know we’re together is there are no public goodbyes.
No kiss.
No hugs.
Not even the barest of touches with the tips of our fingers.
My eyes start at the bottom and work their way up. He’s still in the same jeans and boots, but his shirt is no longer the starched uniform. Instead, Fletch is wearing a black top with a The Wild Brothers Peach Farm logo. His arms are on full display—one is a full sleeve of tattoos, from shoulder to his knuckles, while the other isn’t covered nearly as much, focusing more on his bicep. Still, I can see the design dipping below his shirt sleeve.
“My eyes are up here, Delilah,” he states, but I don’t give him my full attention. Yet. His muscles flex, and I’m lost in watching as they do when he reaches for the door to shut it. Seriously, this man does things to me that I have never felt before. He takes a step closer, and finally, I avert my gaze to him. “Woman, I can’t do shit with us out in the open, and with the way you’re looking at me, I’m not going to last another ten seconds.”
I move closer, my hand reaching out before I pull it back to my side. Yep, this is one of those moments I’m going to hate having to hide. Get your shit together, Delilah Taylor. The faster we get the desk inside, the sooner we can be alone.
“Okay. Well, I think we may have a problem.” I blink, trying to change the subject instead of imagining what his lips would feel like pressed against mine. Yes, we kissed when he left this morning, but that was hours upon hours ago.
“Yeah, I’m seeing that.” I’m not sure if he’s talking about us keeping our distance or how we’re going to get the massive desk into my apartment.
“I’ll help you,” I offer. Fletch’s hand goes to the side of the truck, gripping it so tight his knuckles are turning white.
“Oh, you fucking will, Delilah.” He takes a deep breath, almost like he’s scenting the air. Can he smell me from eight feet away? “Later,” he follows up.
I swallow, a lump forming in the back of my throat as I think about what will happen when we’re alone. “Okay.”
He takes another deep breath. “I didn’t realize you had a two-story, or the size of the desk. There’s no way in hell you can help me lift this without hurting yourself. Asher couldn’t get away from the farm. Beau could, so he should be pulling up any minute. You wanna show me where we’re placing this?”
“I’m not sure if I should be offended or flattered,” I reply. Besides, it was me who packed up every box, rented a small moving truck, then loaded and off-loaded everything on my own before a certain male showed up. That person would be my father. He was pissed at the situation, told me to sit my ass down or unpack the house. He took over, much like he tends to do when the occasion warrants it.
“Delilah, the damn thing weighs nearly three hundred pounds. The guy helping me load it up struggled. The last thing I want is for us to move it and the damn thing to drop on you.” Okay, filing this away for future reference, bring a measuring tape and ask how heavy the piece is before purchasing any more furniture.
“Oh, well, when you put it like that. Also, it’s not going upstairs. My office is downstairs. The upstairs only has my bedroom.” Fletch lets go of the big black truck and walks toward me with a purpose. I take a step back, knowing what will happen. He’ll be screwed, and the last thing I want to do is ruin his career.
“Lead the way, Delilah.” His voice deepens, taking on a throaty tone. I’m well aware what will happen the minute we walk through my front door. I turn around. His wish is my command. So, what if I put a little bit more into my normal gait? My shoulders no longer slouch, and there’s a bit of an arch to my back and a little sway to my hips. The clothes I put on to meet up with Madelyn were immediately discarded when I came home. My sundresses are comfortable, but the jeans I put on were restricting, and the fast cleanup that needed to be done before Fletch got here meant a quick change of clothes. I was back in my work clothes of sweats and tee, and yes, my bra is off, too.
“Woman.” Fletch catches up to me as we round the corner to the semi-private walkway leading to the front door. I can feel the heat of his body, and when he wraps his arm around my waist, my back meets his front.