Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 68(@200wpm)___ 55(@250wpm)___ 46(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 68(@200wpm)___ 55(@250wpm)___ 46(@300wpm)
Me: You worried about me, ma chère?
Belle: Yes. I googled underwater welding. I wish I hadn’t done that.
For some reason, my heart skips a beat in my chest. Has it really been so long since someone who wasn’t one of my sisters gave a shit about me?
Me: Yeah, it can be dangerous. I do know what I’m doing though
Belle: Your wife doesn’t mind you putting yourself in danger like that?
The smile that crosses my face is huge.
Me: I don’t have a wife. Does your husband know you are texting me at 11:37 at night?
Belle: No husband
Me: Surely you have someone
Belle: Nope, just me. What about you?
Me: Same. It’s Friday night. Shouldn’t you be out?
Belle: I’m not old enough to drink, so why bother? Besides, I can drink at home for free.
Me: Are you doing on-the-job training for high school credit?
Not old enough? Oh fuck. I need to know if I need to shut this shit down now.
Belle: no, I graduated last year. I’m still deciding if college is right for me. So far, it’s not.
Thank fuck, I think, but I briefly wonder if I’m too old for her. She’s not
Me: It’s not for everyone. I did it, but I hated it.
Belle: But at least you did it.
Me: if you think you should do it, do it.
Belle: Sound advice. Does it work for other things?
Me: It could be applied to any situation, ma chère
Belle: Why do you call me that? You don’t even know me.
Me: I don’t need to know you to call you my dear. Even via text, I know all I need to know to want to get to know you better.
Belle: I could be a bitch, or I could be ugly.
Me: I don’t think you are a bitch, you took time out of your Friday night to check on me, and looks don’t have anything to do with anything. I’m a grown man. If I want something, I get it. Something as fleeting and trivial as looks won’t stop me.
I don’t know who the hell I am right now. I want this unknown girl more than my next breath.
Belle: and you think you want me?
Me: I know I do.
Belle: I want to get to know you too
Me: I could be a dick or ugly
Belle: I just spit water across the room. I’m not worried about either of those things, Kent.
Me: You should be. You shouldn’t be talking to strangers over the phone
Belle: I’m not talking to strangers. Just you.
Me: That’s a good girl.
How fast could I get to her and get inside of her? I don’t know who I am right now, but everything in me tells me to take it slow with this girl. I don’t think I’ll be able to do that, though.
Belle: I’m always a good girl.
Fuck. I’m a goner.
Chapter Four
Belle
I don’t know what it is about the man, Kent. All weekend we texted back and forth. I desperately searched social media for him, but he doesn’t seem to have any. He told me that he’s thirty-three and that he raised five sisters, one of which is still in high school. Is it insane that I feel like I know him? I literally did nothing but do my laundry and talk to the man over text. There were so many times I wanted to dial his number and physically talk to him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to ruin what we started. He never called me either, so I couldn’t help thinking that he didn’t want to.
Working at the construction company has been interesting. I’ve learned all kinds of new things. Today is the first day that Dana is staying home, letting me handle everything. Jonathan wasn’t kidding when he said Gal Friday. I’ve done billing for clients, payroll for the employees, and cleaned the crap out of this office. The layers of dust and grime were so thick I never thought the place would come clean. Before, it smelled like old, sweaty socks dipped in greasy food wrappers, and now it smells like Pine-Sol and fresh linen, thanks to the plug-in things I put in every other outlet. Don’t even get me started on the restroom. I should have demolished it and started over, but with a lot of elbow grease, I got it cleaned and shiny.
“Good morning, sir. Here’s your coffee,” I say, going into Jonathan’s office, steaming cup of coffee in hand.
“You know you don’t have to do this, right? Dana just did it for me because she wanted to,” he says.
“It’s not a problem, besides you’d make a huge mess at the coffee station.” I say, imagining sugar and creamer everywhere, and then I mentally kick myself in the ass. He doesn’t say anything for the longest heartbeat of my life. My stupid sassy mouth is going to get me in trouble one day. Then he starts laughing.