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)
“And what if it does?”
I throw my hands up. “Where’s your brilliant advice now?”
“That’s brilliance. Simplicity is brilliance.” He goes back to his stickering. “You’re focusing on the negatives. Have you ever thought about the positives? What if you make her happy? What if you make her life better? What if you give her a reason to get up and make her feel safe? Because that’s what I think would make her happy.”
That’s what I want to happen.
Banks moves his production to the floor. I go to the other side of the room and start adding them to the tiles to hurry things along. I’m too antsy for this. Too wired.
I need to see her face.
“And what if it does?”
That’s a big what-if, Banks. A huge what-if.
We make quicker work of the floor than I anticipate. The stickers run out before we get under the table.
Banks grins. “If nothing else, this is a lot better looking than it was before.”
I smack the back of his head. “You’re a dipshit. This is the last thing I do with you. Do not pull me into anything else.”
“No promises.”
We sneak out the side door, checking to make sure no one sees us, and then bolt to my house. Banks parts ways with me at my back door to go to his house for a shower. Thank God.
As soon as I’m inside, my phone buzzes. A picture of a certain set of lingerie on a bed is on my screen.
I glance around the kitchen and do quick work of how long it will take to get the place respectable.
I can hurry.
Me: Busy?
Ashley: I send you that, and you ask if I’m busy? Buzzkill.
I grin.
Me: Want to come over? Lingerie is optional because I’ll just rip it off you anyway.
Ashley: Oh, what happened to sexting?
Me: It’s been a night. I want to hold you after.
Ashley: You really want me to come?
Me: More than once, if I have any say in it.
Ashley: Be there in fifteen.
Me: Fuck the lingerie.
Ashley:
I laugh.
Yeah. I love her.
I love Ashley. Banks is right—she’s my woman.
“What if you make her happy? What if you make her life better? What if you give her a reason to get up and make her feel safe?”
Can I do those things? Or have I been right all along—I’m better fling material?
TWENTY-FOUR
Maddox
“Need a vacation from your vacation?” Tati laughs, leaning against my office doorframe. “You look … handsome. And tanned. But freaking tired, boss.”
Tati, that’s not from vacation. That’s from last night.
I lean back in my chair, so easily distracted, and remember the feeling of waking up next to Ashley. In my bed.
It was a completely different experience from waking up next to her in the Bahamas. There was no ocean breeze or the promise of a decadent breakfast courtesy of the butler. There was no indulgent view of the sea as far as you could see or a pool to slip into to cool down.
She was in my shirt, under my sheets—her toothbrush was on my bathroom counter.
It was simple. It felt like a version of normal. Of what life could be like.
The weirdest part? I liked it. A lot.
“Did you know that pigs swim in the Bahamas?” I ask. “There’s a whole island of them. They swim right out to your boat, and you can get in with them. It’s wild as hell.”
She makes a face. “Pigs swim?”
“Right? Here. I have pictures.”
She walks to my desk as I flip through the album that I created for our vacation photos. I find the shots with the animals and show her.
“This one was my guy,” I say, showing her the pink one with black around his eye.
“He’s cute in a pig kind of way.” She sits across from me. “The setting looks beautiful, but I’m not sure that the pig part is for me.”
“I wasn’t sold on it either, but Ashley wanted to do it. It was definitely an experience. Reminds you not to take the world too seriously. I mean, there are pigs living in paradise getting hand-fed fruit by humans like they’re royalty. It’s ridiculous.”
Tati crosses one leg over the other and watches me curiously.
“What?” I ask.
“Just wondering if you left my boss on the islands.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think you’re beaming, Mr. Carmichael. I think you’re positively smitten, and I’m here for it.”
I roll my eyes. “Mind your own business, Tati.”
She laughs.
“Speaking of business,” I say, turning to my computer and hitting the print button on an email. “I just got an offer on the Ugly Door House that you showed while I was gone.”
“I knew it. I knew it.” She fist-pumps. “Was it decent, at least?”
“It’s not bad. The seller will counter, obviously, but I bet this goes through.” I rock back in my seat. “Good work.”
“Thanks.”
“And thanks for taking over for me on such short notice. Not sure what I would do without you.”