Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“How did you sleep?” I asked just as casually as one would ask about the weather.
Her face turned so red as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, I was almost positive she’d been asleep. Dreaming about me. That knowledge tamed the jealous beast that had been right there on the edge.
I set my cup down and walked over to the oven to take out her spinach frittata. “Have a seat. I’ll get your breakfast,” I told her, feeling like a smug bastard.
Taking the sour cream and sauce that Wilma had prepared, I drizzled it over the frittata, then put a tablespoon of sour cream onto it. Reaching back into the fridge, I took out her smoothie.
She was sitting and watching me. Her face wasn’t as red anymore, but she appeared nervous.
I placed her plate in front of her, then the smoothie beside it. “Spinach frittata and mango wheat-germ smoothie.”
Her gaze dropped to the meal. “Thank you,” she replied.
“I just added the toppings,” I told her, then turned to get the omelet Wilma had made me from the oven warmer. I’d waited to eat so Halo wouldn’t have to eat alone.
Taking my coffee, I walked over to take the stool beside her. She stiffened slightly. I didn’t like that. The more I got the Halo who was all cuddly and couldn’t get close enough to me, the less I could handle the one who kept her distance.
Leaning closer until my arm brushed against hers on purpose, I took the salt and pepper that I could have easily asked her to pass me. The small shiver I felt from her made me bite back a smile. Yep, she might be scared of me, but she had been dreaming about fucking me.
“Your mom texted me this morning. She wants me to go with her today to look at nursery furniture for the room she’s setting up at her house.”
Not happening, Mother. At least not today.
“I’ll talk to her. Let her know we have plans. You’re just sixteen weeks, right?” I looked at her. She nodded, so I continued, “Plenty of time for that.”
“Okay,” she replied. “I, uh, thought perhaps you’d want to be free of me today.”
Nice try, pretty girl, but that’s not going to work. You got off on my leg and fingers last night, leaving me dealing with a host of shit happening in my head that requires I keep you with me.
I’d work through it, and when the guys returned, it would go back to the way it had been. That was how it had to be, so for now, I was getting my fill. Figuring this out and labeling it so I could move past it.
“With everyone else in the house gone, I think it’s a good time for me to get to know the mother of my nephew,” I told her.
She took a bite of her food, warily glancing over at me. It was a fucking shame I’d never see those eyes of hers open when she came for me. I’d bet they darkened like a stormy sea, and when the pleasure hit, they’d melt into the glassiness of a raindrop.
I jerked my eyes off her. What the fuck had that been?
“I would like that. To get to know you,” she admitted, bringing me back from the place my thoughts had taken me.
I took a drink to wash down my omelet. “Just don’t get too attached. I’m not just easy on the eyes; I’m entertaining company when I want to be,” I said teasingly.
A small laugh bubbled out of her, and a satisfaction unfurled in my chest. I liked that I’d made her do that. Seemed I liked making her come and laugh.
“I’ll do my best,” she replied.
We finished breakfast with me asking her where she’d gone to school and what her favorite kind of music was. Then, we moved into favorite ice cream. It led into her holding her stomach as she laughed, her eyes shining brightly when I told her my favorite flavor was vanilla. I understood why she was laughing, and the fact that her mind had turned it dirty made me grin like a damn fool. When I asked her what was so funny, she pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“Come on now,” I urged. “say what you’re thinking.”
She licked her lips dropping her gaze. “Well, that’s a boring flavor and I guess I expected something more exotic from you.”
I wanted to see the laughter twinkling in her eyes again. Reaching over to touch her even if it was simply my finger under her chin was a bad idea. “Cookie dough is pretty damn basic,” I pointed out.
She stood up to carry her plate to the sink. “No, it isn’t. There are yummy chunks in it.”
I watched her catching myself waiting for those eyes of hers to meet mine again. She didn’t look my way even as she walked past me, and it felt as if she was doing it on purpose. Stepping up behind her when her back was to me, and she was facing the sink, I leaned down close to her ear. Too close. Her scent was there reminding me of last night.