Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“It’s stuff for dessert and should probably go in the fridge,” I tell his back when he walks toward the kitchen doorway, and a second later, I follow.
“Do you want a beer? Or some wine, maybe?”
“Wine sounds good.” I take my cell out of my pocket and put it on the counter with my keys while he pulls down a wineglass from one of the cabinets.
“Red or white?”
“White, please,” I reply, and he nods. I look down at my feet when I feel a warm body bump against me, expecting to see Gemma, but instead, it’s Ira. “Hey, pretty girl.” I bend down to pick her up, and she instantly begins to purr when I have her in the crook of my arm on her back so I can rub beneath her chin. I meet Bax’s gaze when he places the glass on the counter in front of me. “Do you want any help?”
“Nah,” he replies, then walks back across the kitchen to a wine fridge that is built into the cabinets. “The potatoes are in the oven. When they’re done, I’ll throw the steaks on the grill.”
“They smell good.”
“Thanks.” He comes back to me, and I watch, mesmerized as he opens the bottle of wine. I’ve never paid much attention to any man’s hands, but his are big and rough-looking, although his nails are clean and neatly trimmed.
When he slides the glass of wine toward me, I don’t hesitate to pick it up and take a drink, hoping the alcohol will help settle my nerves.
“Do you want to sit outside? I have a fire going in the fireplace.”
“Sure,” I say, and he walks to the back door and opens it for me and Gemma, who was waiting there after obviously hearing the word outside. “Wow.” I step out onto the deck and look around. It’s nicer than I thought it was. “Did you do all this?”There is no hiding the awe in my voice.
His back deck is nicer than some people’s homes. Not only is there a roof, but the openings that would allow you to see into the yard are also covered with dark shades that have trapped the heat coming off the fireplace, where a TV is hung, and a large couch and a few chairs are facing it. The kitchen with a grill on the opposite side is built in an area with a single step down and barstools lining one side, so you can sit there with whoever is cooking.
“Not alone. My brothers, uncles, and cousins all helped.” He goes to the kitchen area and opens a fridge, grabbing a beer before he starts up the grill. “It took us most of last summer to build everything since we worked mostly on the weekends.”
“It’s very cool.” I go over to the couch and take a seat. Gemma hops up onto the cushion next to me, resting her heavy head on my thigh.
“How’s your job going?” He walks over and takes a seat close—but not too close.
“Good. It’s much smaller than where I was in Chicago, but they seem to do a great job with advertising, so we’re pretty busy.” I slide out of my shoes so I can pull my feet up onto the couch and sit cross-legged. Gemma, for her part, adjusts to my new position. “I actually think you might know one of the women I work for.”
His brows drag together. “Who’s that?”
“Julie Wells.”
“Yeah, I know her. We dated a few years back.” There is no softness in his response that indicates he still harbors feelings for her.
I merely nod. I don’t know how to respond or why I felt the need to bring Julie up. Maybe just for confirmation that she’s his type and they have a history.
I take another sip of wine. The silence that settles around us is not comfortable; it’s heavy and awkward. If this were a date, I would send an SOS to a friend and make up some excuse to leave—something I don’t feel like I can do in this situation.
“How about those Titans?” I ask finally, cutting through the tension, and he burst out laughing, his head falling back to his shoulders for a moment.
“They suck,” he mutters, still chuckling before taking a drink of his beer.
“Didn’t I see their sticker on your truck?”
“You did, and they are my team. But that doesn’t change the fact that they suck.”
“Fair enough.” I smile, pressing my wineglass to my lips.
“I almost didn’t let you inside my house with that shit on.” I look down to see what I have on and realize I’m wearing my Chicago Bears sweatshirt. Something I got years ago when I moved to Chicago and went to my first game with Rebecca, whose family has a box at the stadium. I had never gone to a football game before then, and after that one, I would go with her family any time they extended an invite.