Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 111278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
She’d worked her butt off to get to where she had in her career. Any hint of a whisper that she liked to submit and she knew the partners at her law firm would fire her.
And if they’d discovered that she wanted to dress up in pretty things and paint cute pictures or play with dolls?
No. Nope.
That hadn’t been a risk she’d been willing to take.
And look where that had gotten her. She could feel the panic starting to build. She pulled off the road, knowing that it wasn’t safe to keep driving and tried to calm her racing heart.
“I’m on the outskirts of Wishingbone,” she said cheerfully. “Made good time, huh?”
“Gwen,” he growled.
She kind of wished his Dom voice did something to her. Reuben was a good-looking guy. Smart and successful. But maybe a bit too dominant for her. Any woman that he took as his . . . well, he’d completely take over her life.
She was much better off as his friend rather than his lover. They’d clash something fierce if they had to live together. Especially with his unhealthy addiction to exercise and eating properly.
It was truly unnatural.
She probably needed someone with more patience. While Reuben needed someone who could look past all that crazy to the truly remarkable man he was.
They were going to have to have excellent eyesight and determination because there was a whole heap of crazy to get past.
“We agreed you were going to take it easy. Just how fast have you been going?”
“Not that fast,” she said quickly.
She’d only gotten two speeding tickets.
That she knew of. Those speeding cameras could be tricky to see.
“You’re supposed to be taking it easy and driving carefully. I don’t know why you couldn’t have flown and rented a car in Bozeman.”
“You know how I feel about tin cans in the sky. If we were meant to fly, we’d have wings.”
He sighed. “You’re far safer in a plane than you are driving.”
“That’s what the airlines want you to think. It’s a conspiracy.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Plus, my baby wanted an outing.” She ran her hand over the dashboard of her Porsche lovingly. This car was the first big purchase she’d made after paying off all her student loans and she rarely got to drive the Porsche in the city.
“I’ll have you know that I am driving very carefully.” Just fast. “And I’m nearly there now. So, no harm, no foul.”
A noise of frustration came from him and she kind of felt bad.
Just a little.
“I promise I’ll take it easy now. No more speeding. No pushing myself.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it. Remember, you’re supposed to relax.”
“Yeah, well . . . relaxing isn’t my forte, as you well know, Mr. Workaholic.”
“But I want better for you,” he said gruffly. “I don’t want to ever get another phone call like that one, Andy.”
A pang of regret and guilt filled her. “I’m sorry.”
“You know I don’t like apologies. I just want your promise to take care of yourself. Your health and safety matter.”
“I promise I’ll try.” Because she wasn’t entirely sure how to slow down and smell the roses. Or whatever the heck people who were trying to work less and relax more did. Smelling roses sounded dull. Plus, she wasn’t a big fan of their scent.
Now . . . if you were talking about chocolate . . . yep, she was there.
Which is probably why her butt had some extra bounce and there was more curve to her tummy than there should be.
Could also be from all the sitting, late nights working, forgetting to eat then binging, oh, and no exercise.
“Good. Because if you don’t, I’m going to step in.”
“Reuben, you’re my best friend, and right now, you’re my boss, but you’re not the boss of me. You can’t step in because you’re not my Dom.”
Or her Daddy. That was a whole other can of worms she wasn’t willing or ready to think about.
“Yeah, but you need one.”
2
Lord, he was irritating.
She had a pillow at home, which she called the Reuben smotherer. When he became too much, she’d pick it up, scream into it, and imagine putting it over his face.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just Reuben who was bat-shit crazy.
“I’ve got no problems taking over if you don’t look after yourself,” Reuben warned. “You know that.”
“Don’t even think about it, Buster-roo,” she replied. “I’ll kick your ass, then smother you with a pillow.”
“The Reuben smotherer?” he asked dryly.
She gasped. “You know about that?”
“Tequila, Andy. Whenever you drink too much tequila, you get chatty. Actually, whenever you drink too much of any kind of alcohol you get chatty.”
She groaned. It was all so true. “We both know you can’t go all Dom on me. It will ruin our friendship.”
“But at least you’d be alive.”
The raw pain in his words hit her like a punch to the stomach. Not that she’d ever been punched in the stomach . . . but she imagined this is what it would feel like.