Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Rob wasn’t real, though.
It couldn’t hurt to talk to someone who sent me sweet pictures of his dogs and occasionally made me laugh.
Could it?
He texted again before I had a chance to respond to the last one.
ROB: Can I sweeten the deal by letting you talk to the gang?
SARIAH: The gang?
ROB: The pups!
SARIAH: Oh, well, in that case, how can I refuse? Go ahead and call. I’m dying to talk to them.
My phone rang almost immediately, and I took a deep breath before answering. “Hi.”
“Hey there.” His voice was low but well-modulated, with no discernible accent.
“How are you?”
“It’s been a busy week.”
“Same.”
“Okay, so I promised you could talk to the dogs and they’re right here. Hang on…” His voice was muffled for a moment. Then I heard him say, “Can you whisper for Sariah? Whisper?”
At first I didn’t hear anything, and then a low, short bark greeted me and I laughed with delight.
“Oh my god, that’s so cool. Which one is that?”
“That’s Athena. She’s the best behaved out of the three and the most well trained, although all three of them are really good. She’s just super smart. Athena, can you give kisses?”
A moment later I heard a distinct slurping sound and Rob’s laughter.
“Okay, don’t be jealous, Archie. You can kiss me too.”
It went on for about a minute and then Rob came back on the line. “Okay, they’ve all been given treats and hopefully they’ll go to bed now.”
“They sound amazing.”
“They’re a lot of fun. I can’t imagine my life without them.”
“Must be hard when you travel.”
“Sometimes, but I have a pet sitter who takes good care of them.”
“That’s good.”
“So…what are you doing?”
My cheeks flushed as I gazed down at my naked body. “I just got home from work so I’m…in the tub.”
“Really?” His voice dropped an octave. “Tell me more.”
I chuckled. “Not happening. There have to be rules if we’re going to continue to be friends.”
“Rules? What kind of rules? I’m not really one for following rules.”
“Rules that keep things safe and within boundaries.”
“Oh, boy.” He huffed out a breath. “Okay, hit me. Let’s have them now and get this over with.”
“First and foremost, no dick pics. Ever. Like, that’s a deal breaker. It’s gross and I never, ever want to see something like that.”
“Wow, you’re no fun at all.” His voice was laced with humor, as if trying to hold back laughter. “Go on. What else are you going to break my balls with?”
“You keep the crude remarks and sexual innuendo to a minimum.”
“I’m cool with not being crude, but what’s wrong with flirting?”
“Nothing, but we don’t even know each other. Not really.”
“Then let’s change that. Tell you what—instead of more rules, how about I promise not to send you risqué pictures of my wiener and we talk instead?”
“Okay. We can do that.” I sank lower into the water and closed my eyes. I liked the sound of his voice. It was soothing after a long day listening to loud music and even louder restaurant patrons.
“Tell me something about you that you wouldn’t put on the profile of a dating site.”
“I would never join one of those,” I said quickly. “But if I did, I probably wouldn’t talk about my Middle Eastern heritage.”
“How come?”
“Well, you know, nine-eleven and all that. If you’re Middle Eastern, you’re automatically related to Saddam and a terrorist or something.”
“That’s ridiculous. Were you born there?”
“My parents and siblings and I were all born here in the US, but my father’s grandparents came over from Persia back in the 1930s, back before it became Iran. So my father’s parents were born there but have been here since they were children. My mother’s family is of Persian and Turkish descent, but they’ve been here for several generations.”
“We all came from somewhere else. Unless you’re an American Indian, our ancestors are all from other countries.”
“Well, you wouldn’t believe how often people say shitty things about the Middle East, so I just don’t talk about it. But you asked me to tell you something I don’t tell many people.”
“I appreciate that.”
“What about you?”
“My mother is a mix of Czech and some other eastern European stuff; my father is second-generation Irish.”
“Are you close to your parents?”
There was a barely perceptible sigh on his end. “I’m close to my mom, but I don’t want to talk about my dad right now. He gives me a headache.”
“Are your parents still together or divorced?”
“Still together. What about yours?”
“Yup. My mom rules the roost with an iron fist.”
“Are you close?”
“Generally speaking, yes, but since the breakup with Theo, my mom and sisters spend most of their time trying to find me a husband. It can be exhausting to hang out with them these days.”
“Believe me, I’m familiar with that.” He chuckled. “My mom wants grandbabies so bad she can taste it.”
“Do you want kids?”