Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“I know okay,” Beth inserted defensively. “I don’t need you to point out the obvious to me. I’ve been cooking for the party and I’m not quite in the right frame of mind for it.”
She wished the words back the moment they slipped out. She didn’t want to show him any further vulnerability. Not after last night. And she didn’t need his pity or compassion either. She wanted this moment to end so that she could move on with her life.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Is it relevant to why you came over here?”
“No, but it’s pretty much the reason last night happened.”
No faulting that logic. She didn’t respond and he shook his head, the movement impatient.
“I brought these.”
His hands moved to the butt pockets of his jeans and he tugged her white lacy bra from one and her plastic framed glasses from the other.
She snatched the bra from his loose hold, hating how delicate and small it looked in that huge, beautifully veined hand. The things he could do with those capable hands.
Focus, Beth!
“Thank you.”
His eyes lazily scanned her face, lingering on her flushed cheeks before drifting upward.
“I prefer those glasses, to these,” he said, lifting his left hand to indicate the pair he still had grasped between his index finger and thumb. “These are too big for your face. They make you look like a bad-tempered owl.”
She pursed her lips, stupidly outraged by the typical Gideon comment, and reached for her glasses. To her annoyance, he lifted them above his head. Way, way out of her reach and stared down at her with an irritating smirk on his face.
“Give them back to me!”
“I just told you they make you look like an owl. Why would you want them back?”
“Because your opinion means nothing to me. And I don’t have to explain myself to you. Ugh, why am I explaining myself to you?”
He brought out the insecure, over-compensating teen in her and she hated that.
“Maybe because my opinion doesn’t mean nothing to you.”
“You’re a…a troglodyte.”
He blinked for a moment before grinning.
“Why would you say that?”
“It means—”
His disdainful snort cut her off. “I know what it means, Lizzy, but what—specifically—about me reads prehistoric cave dweller?”
“If you can call me a bad-tempered owl, I can call you a troglodyte.”
Oh God, this was getting absurd.
“I didn’t call you a bad-tempered owl,” he said in a condescendingly patient voice. His arm was still fully extended above his head. Seriously, not even the slightest bend to his elbow. How annoying. She could barely keep her arms up long enough to blow dry her hair comfortably.
Oh. He was still talking. Words seemingly designed to aggravate her. “I said the glasses gave you the appearance of a bad-tempered owl.”
“Potato potahto. Give them back.”
Without thinking, she jumped—her arms outstretched—in an attempt to knock her glasses from his grasp. She didn’t get close, and the futility of the ridiculous gesture was emphasized when he gaped at her for a startled moment, before his eyes crinkled, his face lit up, and he laughed. He put his entire body into it, curling his free arm over his belly as he hunched over and surrendered himself entirely to his amusement.
It was a sight to behold. He was breathtaking when he smiled, but utterly devastating when he laughed like this. So captivated was Beth by the spectacle of this big, gorgeous man utterly helpless with laughter, that it took her a moment to register that he had lowered his arm enough for her to grab her glasses out of his loosened grip. He made a weak attempt to get it back, but she leaped nimbly out of his way.
For some reason that made him laugh even harder. And he staggered backward and sank down in the middle of her couch, seemingly spent. He dropped his head onto the back of the couch and stared at her ceiling, the chuckles dying down and fading into long, satisfied sighs.
He knuckled the moisture from his eyes before levelling a roguish grin at her.
“Christ… thanks, Lizzy. I can’t remember the last time I busted my gut laughing like that. Just the w-w…” His voice wobbled and he looked like he was about to set off again, but he shook his head and swallowed the chuckle. “The way you jumped. I don’t think you cleared even three inches off the floor. What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I wanted my glasses back.”
His humor was hard to resist and she felt her own lips twitch in response to it. She pinched them between her teeth before the twitch could bloom into a fully-fledged smile. She was not going to allow herself to be amused by his lowbrow humor.
“Thank you for returning my stuff,” she said with a dismissive sniff. “You may leave now.”
Okay, that sounded condescending and prim as hell. Still, this was her home, and she would be more than happy to see him to the door.