Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“Ha!” She laughed. “Harry knows dad. No one in here would dare flirt with me.”
“He just called you gorgeous,” I pointed out.
“That’s just the truth,” my mom said simply. She reached out and grabbed my hand excitedly. “Come on.”
She tugged me through the “rooms” one by one, pointing out where she was going to put her new furniture and where she wanted to hang pictures. Using her hands, she shaped where the counters would be and where she’d decided to put her appliances in the kitchen. The excitement was infectious, and by the time we’d reached the master bathroom, I was chattering as much as she was, discussing the claw foot tub she wanted and what kind of mirror she should hang.
“Thought I’d find you two in here,” my dad said, stepping over a pile of lumber. Even he didn’t escape the hardhat rule and I looked at him dumbly for a moment. He looked completely home in the thing while me and my mom looked like a couple of dorks.
“Just showing our baby around the new place,” my mom replied happily.
“It’ll look better once there’s walls and shit,” my dad pointed out.
“It looks glorious now,” my mom corrected. “I cannot wait to get out of that trailer.”
“Gonna have to wait a bit longer,” a voice I recognized joked from somewhere behind me.
I spun to face Bishop, the hardhat I was wearing sliding over my eyes and disorienting me for a minute.
“Harry’s wonderin’ if he can have a word,” he said to my parents, leaning through a gap in the framing.
“Sure!” My mom patted my back. “Stay right here. I want to tell you about the tile we’re putting in. The floor is going to be heated!”
“Fancy,” I mumbled, nodding as she walked away.
I hadn’t seen Bishop since he’d left my bedroom the night we’d moved in, and time seemed to have made things awkward between us. We stared at each other for a moment.
“Your boss made me wear a hard hat,” I blurted eventually. It was the only thing that came to mind and I wanted to slap myself for calling attention to the stupid thing.
“You look cute as a button,” Bishop replied, grinning.
He didn’t. With a hard hat on, he looked exactly as I’d described before—like a stripper. Half of me was waiting for the music to start and his hips to begin undulating.
My gaze traveled the length of him and I swallowed.
“You’re wearing a tool belt,” I croaked.
Bishop looked down. “You’ve seen my tool belt before,” he reminded me.
“You weren’t wearing it,” I argued, my eyes glued to his hips. The belt hung heavy, pulling his jeans down slightly and framing the fly like a damn neon sign. God, my mouth was watering.
“You keep lookin’ at me like that and I’m gonna be walkin’ around with somethin’ I can’t exactly hide,” he warned, making my eyes snap up to meet his. “Normally I wouldn’t mind, but I don’t wanna hear shit about it for the next five years.”
“Sorry,” I stuttered. “I just—” My gaze wandered again.
“Woman,” Bishop snapped. “My eyes are up here.”
“Sorry,” I said again, laughing a little.
“You really want your dad walkin’ back in here when my dick’s standin’ at attention?” he asked in exasperation. “Stop it.”
“I won’t do it again,” I promised, raising my right hand like I was taking an oath. It took everything in me not to glance down again.
“Jesus,” he muttered, reaching down to adjust himself. “Charlie!”
“I’m sorry,” I said, throwing up my hands. “You were calling attention to it!”
“Just keep your eyes up here,” he grumbled, annoyed.
“Hey, I thought you were moving in,” I said accusingly, eager to change the subject to anything other than how mouthwatering he looked in his work gear. “You haven’t even been to the house again.”
“I’ve been there,” he replied gruffly. “You weren’t there.”
“Oh,” I said, his words taking the wind out of my sails. “Are you avoiding me?”
“Not at all,” he replied firmly. “I think you were workin’ last time I was there.”
“Are you still moving in?” I asked, nervous about his answer.
While I figured it would probably be torture having him right down the hall all the time, I also really wanted him there. I didn’t like having the upstairs to myself. Plus, I just genuinely liked him and even if we weren’t bumping uglies, I’d still like to see him more often.
“Plannin’ on it, yeah,” he said, looking over his shoulder as my parents came back toward us. “Probably this weekend,” he told me before lifting his chin in goodbye and walking away.
“Everything okay?” I asked my parents.
“Yeah, just delays on some stuff,” my mom said with a frustrated sigh. “No big deal.”
“All part of the process, Ladybug,” Dad said consolingly, patting her ass. “Things have been smooth sailin’ for too long, had to hit a snag at some point.”