Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
He just stares at me, but I can feel him softening. “I came all this way. Can you give me a trial? Give me a week, and if I don’t do a good job, you can let me go. Easy as that.”
“Where are you from?” he asks.
“New York,” I answer, and I swear his scowl deepens.
“So you’re a city girl.”
I barely resist rolling my eyes. “I was born and raised in the city, yes. But I love the country too.”
He’s shaking his head, and it’s obvious he’s got something against city folk or something. He’s going to tell me to leave, and I hate to beg, but at this point, I’m not above it. “Look, please. I can’t go home.”
Even I can hear the desperation in my voice. He’s tilted his head to the side and searches my face. I look away from his scrutiny because I really don’t want to have to explain, but I know he’s going to ask.
“Why? Why can’t you go home?” he demands.
His raised voice makes me take a step back, and his eyes widen as he holds his hands up. “Sorry, I’m not trying to scare you.” In a softer voice, he asks, “So why can’t you go home?”
I shrug. Dang it, I really wasn’t expecting to get drilled with questions when I came. I thought the job was mine. “Forget I said anything. It’s not your problem. Can you give me a week or not?”
He laughs. “Nice try, but it sounds like you have something going on that I might need to know about. Why can’t you go home?”
I blurt out in frustration, “Because my parents want me to get married. They’re insisting on it, and I refuse to spend the rest of my life being married to a man that only wants me to stand at his side with a smile on my face, do charities, and host parties. I grew up watching my mom do it and I don’t want to anymore. That’s not the life I want.”
The look on his face is lethal. “You’re an adult, and this is the twenty-first century. No one can make you get married if you don’t want to.”
I shake my head. “You don’t get it. Forget it, I’m not going to beg you for a job. You don’t want me here, I’ll leave.”
I turn and take three steps before he stops me. “That’s funny, I didn’t take you as someone that gave up so easily.”
I can’t hold back my anger any longer. “Look, I’m not sure what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m out. I don’t want any part of it. Thank you for your time, Mr. Wild. I can see myself out.”
I get to the door and step onto the porch when I hear him curse. “Fuck!” Soon after, the stomping of his feet sounds behind me, and he’s following me down the steps and toward my car. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t stop, I just wave over my shoulder at him and keep going.
“Madelyn, honey, stop.”
I’m embarrassed to admit that the endearment got me. Since I got here, he’s made it obvious that he doesn’t want me here, and after one nice word, I practically stumble on my own feet to get stopped to listen to what he has to say.
He grabs me from behind, putting his arms around my waist and pulling me against his chest. I let out an oompf as my backside rams against him. Breathless, all I can do is stand here. Even now that I’m steady on my feet, he doesn’t let me go. If anything, he holds me tighter. The grunt that leaves his mouth is right in my ear.
“You okay?” he asks me gruffly.
“Yeah,” I whisper.
He unwraps his arms from around me, puts his hands on my shoulders, and puts me an arm’s length away from him. “Sorry,” he mumbles.
My whole body feels overheated, and when I turn to look at him, it’s obvious that our closeness affected him too. Geez, could this be why he doesn’t want me here? I realize he’s staring at me again, and I force a smile to my face. “Don’t apologize. You saved me from falling, so I should probably be thanking you.”
He looks grim, and it makes me miss the smile that was on his face earlier. “You can stay.”
I rear back. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
His jaw tightens, and he looks like he’s going to change his mind at any second. “I said you can stay at the Wild Peach.”
“I can?” I ask, and before he can answer, I jump up and down, clapping my hands together and then throw my arms around his neck. As soon as my breasts press against his chest, I know I messed up, but I still don’t let him go. I’m about to pull away when his hands go around my waist and press to my back, holding me closer.