Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
I cross the room to put a hand on his shoulder. He sounds so defeated, and I can’t begin to imagine how overwhelming this must all be for him. “I know. It’s OK. Let me pack up.”
5
HALE
It’s not my proudest moment, pretending to be completely incompetent when it comes to caring for Ollie. After all, I spent the first four weeks of his life being his primary caregiver. But if acting like a clueless, overwhelmed father is what it takes to get my new nanny to agree to move in with me, then I’ll play the part.
It takes less than two hours to pack up Ivy’s entire apartment. It hurts my heart to see she has so few things, and it also makes me more certain that I’m doing the right thing by taking her to my cabin. When she lives with me, I can surround her with beautiful things. I can give her the best of the world and provide for her every need. She and Ollie are my reason for living, and I’ll spend my days spoiling both of them.
Ivy is quiet as she drives up the mountain to my place. I put my car seat carrier in the back. When she offered to let me drive, I declined without giving her a reason. She didn’t press me and for that, I’m grateful. I’m not embarrassed by my seizures. I’m no longer the lanky kid who got made fun of for his weird expressions and strange movements. Still, I’m not ready to explain it to Ivy.
I gesture to the dirt road in front of us. “Turn here.”
She follows the winding path up the mountain to my cabin. When she parks in the driveway, she sighs at the sight of my front porch. Wicker furniture with blue floral cushions isn’t my thing. Nor are the throw pillows in pale pink and the matching rug. Planters of various sizes with flowers in them are set up on the coffee table. If the guys saw my porch these days, they’d laugh. But I don’t care about what they think. There’s only one person that I’m interested in impressing.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. This feels like something you could’ve plucked straight from my head.” As soon as she says the words, she blushes. The thing about it is that I did pluck it from her head.
I’ve been involved in the tech industry since I was young. As the geeky outsider at a prestigious boarding school, I spent my time locked away in the library where I learned computer programming.
Those skills paid off as I learned how to program apps. I was in the right place at the right time because apps were just being launched on mobile devices. By the time I graduated college, I was a self-made millionaire.
My siblings live off their trust funds and constantly kiss up to my parents to get what they want while I’ve built myself a good life here in a small town where I’m treated like a normal person. It’s why I chose to quietly retire and start a gym. Except I’ve been experimenting with artificial intelligence.
I fed my program all of the data I could find about Ivy. It helped me design her ideal engagement ring and showed me exactly how to create the home of her dreams. It’s the project I’ve spent months working on and now, I’m suddenly nervous about her seeing it. “Come on. I’ll show you inside.”
She follows me up the path past blooming mums in oranges and reds. I trained the algorithm to accurately guess her favorite colors and flowers.
I did it by having the bots review her social media posts including every single post she’d liked or commented on for the last five years. All of it was publicly available information. It’s not like I dug through her garbage to figure this stuff out, although I would have if I needed to. There’s nothing I want more than to please my woman.
I show her around the cabin, holding my breath the entire time. The only place I don’t show her is my bedroom. If she saw it, she would know I’m obsessed with her, and I can’t risk that quite yet. I have to make sure she’s completely in love with me.
“If there’s something you don’t like, you can change it,” I tell her once she’s seen the guestroom and the rest of my house. I had my algorithm decide what colors and decorating style would appeal most to her.
Her decorating style is considered French country. She likes soft blues and pinks. Ivy is soft and delicate, floating through rooms when she walks. Her long, blonde hair is in a braid that flows down her back, stopping above her ass.
Everything in me longs to lean over and pull the tie free. I want to see all of her hair and run my fingers through the silky strands. I want to feel it against my chest as she kisses her way down my body before she wraps her puffy lips around my thick cock.