Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
“So, last night. Did we…?” I’m not sure how to phrase the question. Surely, I didn’t lose my virginity to him and not remember it. I mean, I’d think a man like Brock would be hard to forget.
“Sleep in the same bed? Yes.” He gives me a grin and leaves the bed. He slips into his shoes and turns back to me. “But nothing more.”
Relief goes through me at his confession. That’s one experience that I would want to be fully sober for. I’d want to be able to commit every naughty detail of my time with Brock to memory.
“For our date tonight, I’m taking you ice skating. Dress warmly,” he announces.
I blink at him and gesture down my body. “Even after this? A front row seat to the hot mess express?”
He leans close to me, his lips hovering only an inch from mine. “I happen to like the hot mess express.”
I think he’s going to kiss me, and I remember his earlier promise. The next time I kiss you, I plan to have you underneath me.
The words create an ache between my thighs. But before he can move and fulfill his vow, his phone rings. Irritation flickers across his face as he takes a step back. “Sorry, that’s the tone for the office. I have to go.”
I manage a nod, still too tongue-tied from the almost kiss to know what to say. It doesn’t matter though because Brock is already striding out of the bedroom and through the cabin. Just as he hits the porch, I hear him answer the ringing cockblock.
Even though it’s hard to focus because of my upcoming date with Brock, I still manage to get two chapters written.
I also call Valentine. Or rather, I try to. She’s not answering her phone, so I leave a voicemail. “Hey, girl. Just wishing you a Happy Birthday and Happy Valentine’s Day too. Sorry I missed your call earlier. There’s so much to tell you about my hot sheriff and I want to hear all about Ethan. Give me a call soon. Love you.”
When I’m done with that, I make sure all the essentials are taken care of. Legs are shaved, eyebrows are tweezed, and everything is moisturized.
This isn’t about Mina’s dare or Paige who was a little too enthusiastically on board with it. It’s not even about Colin. It’s about Brock and finding a guy I like for the first time in a long time. One who seems to like me too.
By the time he knocks on my door, I’ve made up my mind. I definitely want to go all the way with him, and I want to do it tonight on Valentine’s night. It doesn’t get any more romantic than that.
He’s still dressed in his uniform from the office and he looks exhausted. “Small change of plans. Got an incoming snowstorm, and we’re advising all residents to stay at home. So, I was thinking you could come over to my place. I’ll make you a nice dinner. We’ll light some candles.”
I’m pretty sure I know what he’s asking, and I will myself not to do something silly like fist pump right here. Instead, I give a nod and say in a seductive tone, “Sure. That would be fun.”
At least, that’s what I wanted to say. I actually make a weird gurgling noise in the back of my throat. Yep, definitely the hot mess express.
But he’s not even fazed by my weird noises. He just gives me a small smile. “Might want to grab Woofer and pack an overnight bag. You never know when you might end up snowed in.”
It only takes me a few minutes to throw together my bag then we’re in his Jeep and on our way to his place. I don’t say anything as he navigates the mountain curves. He’s driving easily in the falling snow but it’s coming faster and faster. I can’t imagine how amazing it would be to live here and get to write next to a roaring fire during the long winters.
Brock’s house is a beautiful little white cabin with a neat front porch. The American flag waves proudly next to a pair of Adirondack chairs in a cheerful blue color. There are flowerboxes underneath the two windows. They’re filled with pine branches, red berries, and stems. It creates a colorful, welcoming look even in the middle of winter. I can’t help but wonder if an ex-girlfriend put those there. After all, Brock doesn’t strike me as the type to have a green thumb.
He points to the boxes as we step on his porch. “Mom put those up. According to her, I’m single because my home doesn’t have curb appeal.”
I chuckle, relieved that there is no woman in his life other than his mom and sister. “Are you close with her?”