Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
She laughs. “No. No, you cannot. I wouldn’t let you go back to Maddox’s office if your shirt was see-through. I wouldn’t get any work out of him the rest of the day.”
I blush.
“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a long time,” she says.
Tati Melo moved here a few years ago—the same year as Rebecca. She’s my age with long, silky hair and a body to die for. And if Maddox doesn’t stay in line, she’ll bury his body on the beach. She gives zero fucks. She’s married to the love of her life with two beautiful children. She isn’t mesmerized by Maddox’s cheeky grin and dimples like most of humanity. That’s why they’re the perfect work team.
“Well …” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I ended my engagement with Eton, if you hadn’t heard.”
I don’t know what kind of reaction I expected. The one I get is not it. I might as well have told her that I had breakfast this morning because she’s not shocked.
“Girl, congratulations. I met that man one time—at your birthday party at Shade House last year, remember? And he stood in the corner and sulked the entire night. I went home and wondered why someone as bubbly and sweet as you would be with someone that dull.”
Was it really that obvious that we were a mismatch?
She grins. “Now, go in there, you single woman, and see Mr. Carmichael.”
I start toward the hallway. “Don’t grin at me. It’s not like that.”
“Sure.”
The bun on top of my head wobbles as I laugh quietly. Guess she doesn’t know Maddox as well as I thought she did.
I knock on the door at the end of the hall, one that I’m sure has had many female visitors. Once Tati vets them, that is.
Maddox tells me to enter before my knuckles pull away from the wood.
“Hey,” I say, stepping foot inside his space.
“Well, look at you busting out the old rock music T-shirt. The girl who doesn’t even like rock music.”
I make a face. “It’s not about the band. It’s about how soft this fabric is.”
He leans forward, stretching a muscled arm over his large, dark wooden desk. “Let me feel.”
I slap his hand away as I sit across from him. He chuckles and falls back into his chair.
Maddox’s eyes are unusually bright, filled with light and mischief. They sparkle in the light streaming in from the windows that overlook Beachfront Boulevard.
“So you went by the house,” he says, running his thumb over his bottom lip. “What did you think?”
I think I need to stop watching you play with your mouth.
“I love that neighborhood,” I say. “And those arched windows are gorgeous. What’s it like on the inside?”
He grabs his computer mouse and clicks around on his computer. “I have a video if you want to see it. I haven’t uploaded it to YouTube yet.”
I stand and walk around his desk. The closer I get, the more of his cologne I breathe in.
He looks at me over his shoulder. “Wanna sit?”
On your face. Yes … maybe.
My eyes go wide, and I scramble to swallow as if that will somehow hide my reaction to my very private thought. But it won’t. Not when I think that Maddox was thinking the same thing.
“I’m good right here. I’ll stand,” I say.
He pulls his gaze away from mine as if it’s been anchored there and it takes every one of his muscles to move.
Get yourself together, Ashley. Don’t let your hormones get the best of you.
He presses play and we watch a quick walk-through of the house. The floors are beautiful and the kitchen is fantastic. The two bedrooms and two updated bathrooms would be perfect for me.
“And here’s the outside,” he says, shifting in his chair. His shoulder brushes lightly against my forearm. If he notices the goose bumps that scatter across my skin, he doesn’t acknowledge it. “This pool is two years old. Saltwater and heated. Low-maintenance landscaping with all the pavers back there and a top-of-the-line, sophisticated surveillance system.”
The screen goes dark.
“That’s it,” he says.
I should take a step away. No, I should go back to my chair. But my feet are frozen in place.
Maddox turns so that his knee is against mine. The contact sends a shock through my body, the waves pooling in my groin. My lips part and I haul in a quick breath.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
I free my feet. I’m back in my chair in a second. “That you’re a terrible cameraman.” So lame.
“You should see some of my other work.”
His lips twist into a smirk. He’s obviously not talking about other real estate work. My mind starts to run, wondering if Maddox has sex tapes floating in the interweb, when he laughs.
“I don’t have sex tapes, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he says.