Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“It’s manicotti so red,” Avery tells me. She slides a look to Dove. “As long as Dove doesn’t mind. Should we eat at your place?”
A vision of my bare walls, bare floor, and cardboard table flash in front of my eyes. “No.” I say it too forcefully, and both women look taken aback. “No,” I repeat but this time with a smile. “I just moved in, and my place looks like a hurricane swept through. Besides, Dove’s place is nicer than mine.”
“Dove’s place is nicer?” Avery’s voice is rising in concern. I can already see that my name is being struck from her “potential husbands for Dove” list.
“Don’t be a snob,” Dove hisses under her breath.
“I’m not. I was just...surprised,” Avery says, slightly defensive. “Anyway, let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
“I’ll meet you in five.” I slip inside my door, making sure that the nosy sister can’t get a glimpse of my sad apartment. Once Abel is done, I’ll throw a big party for Dove and her family, but until then, it’s off limits—even for Dove. I grab the wine and stroll back across the hall. The door is open, which makes me frown.
“Something wrong with your lock?” I ask, kicking the door shut behind me.
“We left it open for you,” Dove says. She’s at the table, putting out plates. Her sister is in the kitchen. I carry the bottle over and pull out my pocket knife to uncork the wine.
“You shouldn’t leave your door open and unlocked ever,” I tell her.
“Even against you?”
“Of course not me, but it could’ve been some weirdo wanting to take advantage of you.”
“You’ll protect me,” she jokes.
“You’re not wrong, but what if I wasn’t here?”
“Then the door would be locked.”
“Better be.” I pull out the cork and set the wine down with more force than necessary.
“Or what?” Dove wonders.
At this point, there’s little I wouldn’t do for her, but I don’t know if she’s ready to hear that. I take a step closer, eliminating the distance between us. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t back away. “Do you want me to spell it out for you?”
Her tongue comes out to wet her lower lip. My cock pulses to life.
“Spell what?”
I can’t remember what we were talking about. The minute her pink tongue appeared, all rational thought dissipated. My eyes zero in on the way her mouth glistens, how her lips are parted exactly the right distance for me to slip my tongue inside. “Honey, whatever it is that you want, I can give it to you.” I slide an arm around her waist and bend over her, ready to lay a kiss across her lips that will make us both forget our names.
“Um, are we having dinner or should I leave?” intrudes a voice from the kitchen.
Dove nearly leaps out of my grip like I was a big cat about to maul her which, I guess, wasn’t so far off base. She disappears into her bedroom, leaving me to stare at a half mad, half intrigued Avery.
“Where do I send a copy of my balance sheet?” I ask.
Six
Dove
I wash my face concentrating on removing the smudges of makeup from under my eyes. No wonder my hot neighbor was down with only being friends. I look like a hot mess. I run a brush though my hair, coming to the conclusion that this is the best it’s going to look tonight. I ditch my work clothes, pulling on a pair of sleep shorts and shirt before grabbing my fuzzy socks.
When I go back into the living room, I’m surprised to see Avery and Jay laughing it up about something. They are suddenly all chummy.
“I poured you a glass,” Jay says, motioning to the glass on the coffee table. They are both sitting on the floor, and the food is in the center of the coffee table. I sit down, and Jay starts to spoon food onto my plate.
“Thanks.” I give him a smile. Avery’s eyes bounce between us. She wiggles her eyebrows at me, and I know what that means. How the hell did she do a complete turnabout? She was grilling him about money two seconds ago, which was embarrassing. And now she’s laughing and breaking bread with him.
It’s not like I have money either. I’m sure as hell not going to judge someone for not being loaded. In fact, every rich man I’ve ever met has been an asshole. I think I’ll stick with the man that lives check to check but treats you right. Jay pulls off a napkin, handing it to me next.
See, that is sweet. Sometimes it’s the small things that matter the most. I’d rather have someone who is kind and considerate to me than someone who would lavish me with gifts and throw me aside when the next best thing comes along.