Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“Do those things and you will.”
“Dad!”
“I’ll feed it to myself, sir.”
Another impressed smile crosses his face. “I like you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You can relax, Cox.” The grin grows friendlier. “You don’t have to be so formal.”
“Habit.”
“Not a bad one.” He offers me a small wink. “Now, I know you two have somewhere to be, but how about you show me that office Jaye’s been texting me pictures of and tell me more about that pizzeria you tried to buy at twenty.”
How the fuck does he know about that?
“You tried to buy a pizza place?!” Jaye loudly exclaims.
His expression transposes to a devious one at the same time he ushers a hand at the stairs. “I wanna know about that and a couple of other things before we have dinner with my wife tomorrow night.”
I toss my girlfriend a small glance to see her proudly smiling.
Huh.
Love that she’s a woman of her word, too.
“Jaye said you’d cook, but I know my wife.” The two of us begin to ascend the steps side by side. “She’ll process the situation better with familiar food and several glasses of expensive wine.”
Unsure if it’s okay to laugh, I simply smile.
Well, finally meeting him didn’t go nearly as horrible as I was expecting. I’m sure meeting her mother won’t be a Saturday walk through the bookstore, but it’ll be fairly manageable…don’t you think?
Chapter 18
Jaye
“You’re nervous.”
Archer’s voice summons my stare away from where I was absentmindedly looking out my driver’s side window and over to him. “What?”
“You only chew on your pinky nail like that when that big, beautiful brain of yours can’t stop running in circles about time travel plot holes-”
“How did everyone not guess that he was clearly from the future?!”
“Or when you’re nervous. Like before a budgeting meeting with your boss. Or a parent teacher conference to begin a reading program for a student that’s struggling with comprehension. Or, hell, even when you’re waiting to hear feedback from me about your illustrations.”
“Do you really like the bunny?” My change in topic occurs between another bite of the nails. “Should it have bigger ears? A larger nose? Maybe a fluffier tail?”
“Maybe you should stop chewing on this,” he lovingly pulls my hand away from my mouth, “and talk to me about why you’re so nervous? I prefer you with nails.” Archer’s fingers fold with mine. “I like the way that shit feels when you scratch them down my arms.”
The sexual thought has my teeth sinking into my bottom lip at the same time I accelerate through the light.
We’ve fucked so much in the last three days, I honestly don’t know how I’m still able to sit up let alone drive to what I have no doubt is going to be the worst meet the boyfriend dinner in the history of meet the boyfriend dinners. And yeah, I’m including that Guess Who? remake they did with Bernie Mac and Ashton Kutcher.
“What’s got you so stressed about this dinner, sweetheart?”
My eyes stay planted on the traffic in front of me.
“Is it about what I’m wearing to the restaurant? Because I put on a fucking sweater for this shit.”
Hearing the mirth in his tone threatens to conjure a smile.
“It’s even got a pointless button. That’s how you know it’s really fucking high class.”
Not giggling is impossible. “You look incredible and smell even more amazing.”
“And so do you,” Archer promptly compliments. “I know how worried you were trying on a new dress, but you look fucking beautiful, sweetheart.” My eyes cut him a small glance. “Almost too beautiful. I’d probably be more worried if your dad wasn’t a Lieutenant.”
I do my best not to blush under the compliment.
This dress is totally on the other side of my comfort zone. It’s fitted and bold printed and the fact I’m wearing purple heels to go with it is absolutely the cherry on top of the take risks sundae, but I love what I see when I look in the mirror. I love even more that I feel fun and free in this versus stifled and stuffy. Hundred bucks says my mother hates it.
“You can relax, sweetheart. Just because we don’t go eat at fancy places all the time doesn’t mean you have to worry about me. I know how to fucking behave in public.”
“You’re not the one I’m worried about,” my under the breath mumbling is heard yet acknowledged by the smallest sympathetic grin.
Perhaps I’m just stuffing pages with nothing. Overreacting. Making Mom out to be a monster when she’s really just…a little overbearing. I’m sure she’ll be happy for me. And of course grateful, she’s one step closer to getting grandkids in her head. You know Archer and I have actually touched on the topic. Kind of hard not to when you work with kids fulltime. He likes the idea of being a dad even though it makes him nervous given how awful his own was. He’d also like to have a job and more stability before we dive any deeper into the discussion. Can’t blame him there.