Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
The door to the gym opened, and she came running out with a tight white tank top on and a pair of those ridiculously short shorts that could have been panties for all they covered. I was instantly hard. I couldn’t help it. I was attracted to her on several levels. The first being the obvious—Oakley Watson was a smokeshow. The second being that I liked her. I enjoyed being around her. She was witty and smart. She made me laugh and was always up for an adventure.
Stopping in the rain, she spun in a circle, throwing her head back and letting it hit her face before continuing her race to my truck. Things like that. The uninhibited joy she seemed to always possess. As if nothing in the world could get her down. I wanted some of that. Being close to her made me feel as if I had it too.
When she opened the passenger door and climbed in, my gaze dropped to her wet white tank top. Thank God she was wearing a bra. It was pink. I wondered if her panties matched.
“If you were truly chivalrous, you would have met me at the door with an umbrella,” she announced with a bright smile, the scent of her sweet lotion filling up my truck.
“But then you wouldn’t have been able to dance in the rain,” I pointed out.
She brushed the wet hair back off her face. “True.”
Her shirt wouldn’t have been wet and clinging to her cleavage either. I didn’t say that though. Instead, I reached into the backseat and grabbed the towel I had brought with me, just in case she got out early and was wet.
“Here,” I said, handing it to her, then turning on the heat so she didn’t get chilly.
“Ah, my hero,” she replied, taking it and drying off her face and hair before moving down to her chest.
I tore my eyes off her. I didn’t need to watch that. She already starred in every damn fantasy I had in my morning shower.
“Buckle up,” I told her, shifting the truck into drive.
“Tell me one good thing that happened today.”
This was what she asked me every day when she got in the truck, and every day, I wanted to say, You. I never did. That would be crossing a line I wasn’t going to touch.
“Can’t think of anything,” I told her.
“Hmm, that’s just sad. Let’s fix it. Drive to the Taco Barn. We can eat tacos until we’re sick.”
Which meant she was going to eat three.
Any reason to stay with her longer I would take. I might not allow myself to touch her, but I would soak in her presence all that I could. In the fall, she’d leave me. Go off to college. Guys would flock to her. She’d meet one, fall in love, get married. With those thoughts, my mood soured considerably.
Thirteen
Oakley
The look on Sarah’s face when she saw my car melted my heart. No one on earth had ever been as happy to see me as she always was. She broke into a run until a teacher blew a whistle at her, causing her to slow her pace to a fast walk. When she reached me, she jerked open the door and climbed inside.
“OH MY GOD! You talked Daddy into it! You’re here!”
I didn’t tell her I had shown up and forced him to let me stay or about the argument we’d had. I wanted her to be close to her dad. Coming between them was never something I would do. Sarah needed Wilder. She was lucky to have him. He was a great dad. He loved her and spent time with her. Things I had never had as a kid.
“Of course I’m here. Your dad was just worried about my work and not wanting to ask too much of me. I assured him that, for you, I was always available.”
She reached over and hugged me. “I tried to tell him that, but he didn’t believe me.”
I squeezed her. “Adults can be stubborn,” I replied.
She laughed and then turned to see all the things I had stuffed in my backseat. I’d spent entirely too much money at Hobby Lobby and T.J. Maxx. The baking supplies in the trunk were just as bad.
“You got Christmas decorations!” she squealed.
“Yep. Everything but the tree. I’ll leave that up to you and your dad to go cut down after Thanksgiving, but we can make ornaments and string the popcorn for it.”
This wouldn’t be her first Christmas without her mom. Sylvia had missed a couple in her life due to drugs and depression. However, it would be the first one with her mother gone. I wanted to make sure it was special. One she would have fond memories of and cherish years from now. Clearly, Wilder needed help with that.