Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Dash let me go to clean the paperwork off the coffee table. I started with the coffee cups and saucers, adding them to the serving tray he’d brought out. “I’ll eat the snacks.”
His grin softened his expression. “Keeping you fed will cost us quite a bit of money.”
“Untrue. The beanie-weenies you missed last night only cost a couple bucks,” I countered, deciding those weren’t near as good as I remembered them being. Dash fed me too well these days.
“I regret missing such a delicious meal,” Dash said, stacking the pages together.
“I’ve never seen you sleep so deeply before.” I took the tray to the sink. “I knew it was rough for you.”
I filled the sink with soapy water. These dainty cups had to be china. Dash placed the three-tiered snack serving tray beside me.
“I decided last night that I’m not into secrets,” I said, turning enough to give him a wink. Dash needed no extra pressure right now, but he also had to learn to keep things real.
“I slept so hard because you’re a god in the bedroom,” Dash said and turned to lean against the counter, arms crossing over his chest, facing me.
I executed a dramatic eye roll and began washing the dishes.
“If it works out, how do you feel about moving to Chicago?”
“If that’s where you are, then I’ll figure it out,” I said. “I don’t want to be without you, but if you need me to stay in the house, I will.”
“I guess you’re right.” Dash reached for a hand towel, encouraging me to give him each rinsed dish. In the lull of conversation, I could almost hear the cogwheels turning in his head.
I gave him time and space. He went toward the china cabinet, and I grabbed the tiered snack tray and headed for the bedroom, my stomach growling. Among the leftovers were assorted tiny sandwiches, a fruity array, and mixed cheeses and assorted crackers. A plump, mild blueberry landed in my mouth, but it only accentuated my hunger.
After placing the tray on the mattress, I headed to the closet to change out of the nice clothes Dash had laid out for me earlier. He entered the closet, clearly still lost in thought. Usually, I’d accost Dash as he undressed, but I gave him a break tonight, no matter how sexy unfastening those cufflinks looked.
I felt strange about having cufflinks turning me on, and made a beeline for the tray. My stomach upped its game, rumbling like a snare drum in a homecoming parade. Each tier tray came off the base, so I carefully put everything on the duvet and took a seat with them.
Dash was so preoccupied that he even sported a pair of pajama pants, going against his own rule of being naked while inside this room. He went for his laptop and brought it to bed with him.
“Do you know anything about Wesley Carter?”
The bite of cheese lodged in my throat as I laughed then coughed my answer. “Of course, not.”
“What do you think his angle is?” Dash asked, sitting across from me with the computer in his lap as he typed on the keyboard.
“I feel like he was pretty straightforward about it,” I answered, rolling off the bed to get a glass of water from the mini bar.
“And what do you believe he said?”
Here we went, the many questions began. Of course, Dash had the answers in his head, but he wanted a different perspective. I always played along. “Okay, I believe what he said about stickin’ it to your father. You two have that in common. I do too.”
Dash nodded his acceptance of that premise. “That was my interpretation too.”
“I don’t understand money on that level,” I said. “But helpin’ you live and go to law school seems like pennies for guys like that. How do you feel about it all?”
Dash’s gaze turned speculative, thinking through the answer as he spoke. “Better than I anticipated. I’m not sure it’ll upset my father. He seems to be finished with me.”
“Your old man wants you destroyed, so if this gets under his skin, then you have a win.”
“What does it say about me that the prospect excites me?” Dash asked, a gleam in his eye. I loved that sparkle. It meant he was happy.
“If there was any way I could have gotten my father back, no question, I’d already have signed on the dotted line.” Those were facts.
I chose a couple of sandwiches to try. With the first bite, my taste buds questioned my choices. I sniffed the sandwich, unsure what to make of it. I glanced over at Dash. “What’s this?”
Dash’s gaze locked on the sandwich in my hand. “Leek, prosciutto, topped with a sour cream spread. It’s my favorite.”
Well then, I’d save the rest for him. I definitely didn’t have the refined taste buds to swallow another bite.