Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Your mother will hate her.”
“That’s an added bonus. She’ll stay away.”
“Dinner soon, okay?”
“Sure,” I agreed easily and hung up.
I kept my eye on Myers. She was still off. Very formal and somewhat skittish. I wasn’t sure how else to say sorry. To let her know how much I regretted my harsh tone and words.
At lunch, she brought my sandwich in with a fresh cup of coffee, sliding the tray onto my desk with a plate of the fruit. She’d included a few of the chocolate-dipped pieces as well.
“Grab your lunch and join me,” I urged.
“Um…”
“Bring in your notebook. I have some items I need you to look after. We’ll call it a working lunch.”
“All right.”
When she returned, I had moved the tray to the sofa, and I patted the cushion beside me.
“Join me.”
She did, and I picked up my sandwich, biting and chewing. “Great turkey.”
She hummed, nibbling on her own sandwich.
“Do you make these pickles?” I asked, curious.
“Yes.”
“Incredible,” I observed. “You’re incredible, Myers.”
I ate steadily, enjoying the food. I wiped my fingers on the napkin and finished my coffee. I picked up a piece of cantaloupe, biting into the juicy flesh.
“Good,” I murmured.
“She was cutting it all up when I was there this morning.”
I chose a chocolate-covered strawberry, turning slightly and pressing the fruit to her lips. “Try it,” I urged.
She bit down, the juice bursting from the fruit. She licked at her lips, chewing slowly, and I ate the rest of the fruit, winking at her. “Myers-flavored.”
“Stop it.”
“Simply stating a fact.”
She opened her notebook, looking at me expectantly. I sighed and rattled off a list of items I wanted checked, some calls I wanted made, and the final question.
“What do you want for dinner?”
“Oh, ah…”
I took her notebook from her hands and set it on the table.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “For my anger, for upsetting you.”
“I know.”
“Why are you still so upset?”
To my shock and discomfort, her lip began to tremble. Her gaze dropped, and her voice was low when she spoke. “You were hurting, and you sent me away. I didn’t know if you were all right. I didn’t know if I could call or text you and ask.”
“Maggie darling,” I said, touched by her concern.
Her eyes met mine, bright with tears. “I stood across the street, waiting to see if you would show up this morning. Then I went and got your fruit.”
“That was thoughtful.” I nudged her knee with mine. “And I liked your creative poem.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should make a joke of it or if you’d be too angry with me. When I walked in, I decided maybe you were leaning toward anger, so I took it back.”
“Your poem was perfect.” I slid my hand over hers. “I wasn’t angry. I was worried this morning. You did nothing wrong. We were caught up in our passion. You had a condom, and I was so overcome thinking about being inside you that I didn’t say anything. So it’s on me.”
“Did you get some, ah, safe ones?”
“I will. It’s gonna be a few days until I’m ready, I think.” I grinned, wanting her to smile. I hated seeing her upset. “We can go online tonight and pick some.”
Her gaze dropped to my crotch. “And he’ll be okay?”
“Absolutely. Sam says no permanent damage.”
She blew out a long sigh. “Okay.”
“And you can call me anytime, Magnolia.”
“Your cell phone isn’t monitored?”
“No. We all have our own cell phones. The company pays the bills, but they belong to us. They aren’t monitored.”
“Mine too?”
I frowned. “I’m not sure, to be honest.”
“I have my own as well. I didn’t cancel it in case this place didn’t work out.”
“Then give me that number. I’ll know it’s my Magnolia calling, not Myers.”
“Okay.”
I leaned close and brushed a kiss to her full mouth. “Okay now?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll talk more tonight, all right? And decide what you want for dinner, and we’ll pick it up on the way.”
“I can cook.”
“I don’t want you to cook after a long day. We’ll grab something.”
She pursed her lips, looking stubborn. I had to smile at her expression. “If you want to cook, then you can. But simple. I don’t want to lose you for hours making dinner.”
She stood. “Okay. I’m going to get back to work.”
“You barely ate your lunch. Sit and finish it.”
“Later.”
I knew better than to argue with her. I reached into my pocket. “Ah, these are yours.”
She grimaced as she took the little bag, looking inside. “I think I’ll just throw them out.” She paused. “Where is the glow-in-the-dark one?”
I frowned, then chuckled. “I think Sam took it. He thought it might be fun for some adult magic.”
“Adult magic?”
“You know,” I teased. “Now you see it, now you don’t? Repeat…”
Her cheeks flushed and her eyes grew round. “Well then,” she muttered. “I hope he doesn’t have any allergies.”