Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Sure is a pretty day.” I made no move to exit the car, drinking in these final few seconds with Holden. Sweeter and a better day starter than fresh-squeezed orange juice, and something I had no business getting used to, yet, here we were.
“Hmm. A weather compliment from you.” Holden chucked, hazel eyes crinkling. “Either you actually slept last night, or you want to make the point that you could have walked.”
I could have easily walked, and we both knew that, but no way was I admitting aloud that I preferred the ride and the time with Holden.
“Not much sleep.” I yawned. Outside the car, Oregon spring was in full swing, riots of flowers and color up and down the tree-lined street of older homes. My insomnia was slightly better, but what little I did sleep remained broken and too shallow. I chuckled. “Real sleep seems to only happen when you tuck me in.”
The tuck me in line was supposed to be a joke, but Holden gave me a particularly intense, pointed look. “You do understand that can be arranged, right?”
“I suck at asking for things that will benefit me.” I kept my tone as light and airy as the flimsy cherry blossoms drifting along the sidewalk. But it was also true. No matter how good our evening TV time felt, I was hardly going to invite Holden to lie next to me simply so I could sleep better. The idea alone felt selfish. And if I had trouble asking for kink, which Holden did seem to enjoy, no way was I requesting something that would be for me alone. “Witness my reaction to most of your fundraising ideas.”
“I’m not talking about fundraising.” Holden used an unusually stern tone, one he’d reserved for kinky fun times prior to now. The back of my neck went slick and hot. Was he losing patience with me? If he was tired of waiting on me, why couldn’t he make a move himself?
But, of course, I knew the answer. He was a good guy. He was my landlord of sorts, and he was the type to worry about things like pressure. He thought he was doing the right thing, leaving it up to me.
“Actually, I was thinking more about the idea you had last night to sell bumper stickers.” My words tumbled out quickly because I was only too eager to avoid talking more about beds and sleep and us. Over pizza the night before, we’d taken a break from dating shows and watched a documentary about the making of a war memorial. Holden had been inspired by all the bricks and plaques donors had purchased. He was into the idea of covering my future RV with sponsor stickers, but I’d needed time for the idea to grow on me. “It’s a decent idea. Make it about the donors and the RV, not me.”
“And what if someone wants to make things about you?” For once, Holden didn’t allow me the grace of a subject change, and frustration laced his words.
“Then that person might need to remember I suck at reading signals, and I get all caught up in finding the mythical right moment. I’m the king of patient pining.” If he could be frustrated, so could I. Maybe if I simply asked him to stop waiting around, we would be free from this limbo land we were stuck in.
“Pining, huh?” Holden gentled his tone. “We can’t have you wasting away. And apparently, I need to take out a damn billboard advertising my tuck-in services.”
“Neon lights,” I countered, wanting to hear his chuckle, but he didn’t laugh. His expression stayed too somber, too serious, and I had to resist the urge to squirm in the passenger seat.
“Cal, I want to put you to sleep.” He put a hand over mine.
“Huh?” My few remaining brain cells fled in the face of Holden’s electric touch.
“Poor word choice.” Holden groaned and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Can I—”
He was cut off by a rap on the passenger-side window. In a case of the worst timing ever, Sam stood by my door, holding a coffee cup and offering a broad smile.
“I came to see the progress on the house,” Sam said cheerily. “And I brought you coffee.”
“Many thanks.” I nodded curtly before turning back to Holden, who was staring straight ahead, expression wooden. “Holden—”
“Go on.” He pointed at my door. “I’ll keep.”
I couldn’t help but wonder for how long. How many chances would he grant me to sort myself out and just ask already? Or do? How hard would it be to simply plant one on the guy? Heck, Sam had already headed up to the porch. I could lean in, kiss Holden goodbye, and that would be that, and maybe tonight he’d…
Nope. I’d survived SEAL training, multiple deployments, and cheated death on numerous dives, yet the idea of closing the gap between us made another round of cold sweat snake down my back. I beat a hasty retreat from the car, joining Sam on the front porch. He handed me my coffee before he finished unlocking the door. Turning back to the driveway, Sam frowned as Holden zoomed away.