Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” I confess.
He grins and looks around before focusing back on me. “I can keep my mouth shut, so if you need someone to talk to, you have my number.”
He walks away, kissing the top of Anya’s head as he joins the rest of my family. I appreciate his offer, but I’m not ready to tell anyone anything.
I’ve got a girl I’m crazy about who I’m helping by giving her orgasms. All while I hide my true feelings.
Not to mention, I’m writing a romance novel.
My life is nothing like they think.
Only one person knows and she’s the only one not here.
Chapter 11
Millie
I can’t stop thinking about Tripp Atwood. What is wrong with me? Ever since he got me off the other night in my bookshop, I can’t erase him from my mind.
I kind of don’t want to either.
I’ve been a complete bookwhore for his chapters he sends, and at night I think about him while I touch myself.
It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong. Here I am, the good girl, having this secret affair with a man who just happens to be the younger brother of my ex-boyfriend. I’m sure they have some bro code or something about not dating each other’s exes.
Why am I even thinking about dating Tripp? That’ll never happen.
But his book he’s writing has me thinking he’d be the perfect guy. It’s about a man who’s been pining away for months about a woman he can’t ever pursue. I feel for the hero in the story. I can see the pain and anguish he suffers daily by not being with the woman he loves.
It’s sad, and it’s oh so hot. Like scorching hot. As I read the chapters I can’t help imagining I’m the woman the hero is pining after.
What I wouldn’t give for a man to want me like the hero wants the heroine. And when Tripp was touching me, making me see stars, I imagined he was the hero he writes about. I imagined he’d been pining for me for months, even years.
That he had this desire for me that he couldn’t handle anymore.
It’s silly, and I need to get my head in check before I end up getting my heart broken.
I’m sitting in my cozy little shop, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint aroma of old books, as I wait for the book club meeting later today. The soft hum of background music fills the space, keeping me company as I absentmindedly rearrange a stack of novels on the counter.
The door swings open, the bell above it chiming cheerfully, and in walks Oliver Moore. My hand freezes mid-air, book forgotten as I take in the sight of him.
I’ve heard plenty about the Moores—small-town gossip makes sure of that—but I don’t know any of them personally. I do know that Willow, the youngest of the Moore clan, is now dating Brock, a fact that’s been the talk of the town for weeks.
But Oliver... he’s something else entirely. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a confident stride that seems to command the room without even trying. His eyes, a deep shade of hazel, scan the shop as if taking everything in. He’s clearly a few years older than my twenty-four years, but that only adds to the air of maturity and quiet strength he carries with him.
As he approaches the counter, I give him a friendly smile.
“How can I help you?”
He smiles, and I realize it’s got nothing on Tripp’s smile. “I’m looking for a book on management. My parents are retiring this year and I’ll be taking over at Moore’s Restaurant.”
“Oh, that’s lovely,” I say, leading him toward the nonfiction section of the shop. “Are you excited to run things?”
He nods. “I’ve been working at the restaurant since I was sixteen, so I guess I know everything, but I feel like I can always learn more.”
I smile as I move to a shelf on management. “I love your restaurant,” I tell him. I try to remember the last time I was even there.
I think it was one night when Brock took me there on a date. We ended up spending most of the time in silence because we really had nothing to talk about.
“You should come by. Let me buy you a meal,” he says, leaning casually against the bookshelf. “Maybe I can get a night off to join you.”
I smile, my eyes widening slightly when I realize Oliver Moore is asking me out.
Another customer waltzes into the shop, and I blush at Oliver, blinking as he waits for a response.
“I’ll think about it,” I say, and then I point to a few books which are exactly what he’s looking for. “These books should help.”
He turns his attention to the books and thanks me.
“If you need anything else… I’m here,” I say as I walk away to help the new customer.