Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Her Little status was irrelevant. What was relevant was protecting her from sunburn.
None of it meant anything. Not really.
He was just concerned about her. As a physician.
That was all.
The door opened and his mouth dropped open. “Um. Good evening.”
Maggie pushed back strands of her dark hair that had come loose from her ponytail, which might explain the white streaks in her dark hair. Because her hands were covered in flour.
He wasn’t quite sure why she needed so much flour to make a sausage casserole and mashed potatoes.
“You know you don’t have to knock, right?” she said with a smile. “Come in!”
She waved her hand out, gesturing him inside. He looked down in shock, noticing floury footsteps on the tile floor.
Seriously. Did she jump in a vat of flour?
He ran his gaze over her. She was wearing another pair of dark yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt. Over her clothes she wore a bright pink apron. Which seemed at odds with her usual choice of clothing. She had her hair back in a messy ponytail and streaks of flour and other things were all over her apron, her hands, and her face.
He’d never seen someone so messy. Well, maybe a toddler.
That’s what she reminded him of as she smiled up at him. She looked so happy with herself that he found himself smiling back.
“You’re trouble, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
She winked at him. “But the best kind. Can I help take something?”
“I’ve got it. I brought some dessert.”
“Oh.” Her entire face fell.
He instantly felt the urge to do something. To take back the words that had upset her. What was it? What could he do to make her feel better?
“Maggie’s making dessert,” Ian boomed as he entered the foyer. “Battenberg cake.”
“With custard and cream.” She bounced up on her toes. “It’s going to be so good. Don’t worry, I’ve already got dinner started. I just put the cakes in, then I’ll let them cool down before I ice them.”
“Oh, then you can put this in the fridge for another day because that sounds delicious.”
Another big grin.
Holy heck.
His breath caught in his lungs for a moment. She was breathtaking.
She was so happy that it was radiating out from her like sunshine. And it made him want to get closer to her so he could bask in the glow.
“Okay. I’ll take it now.” She grabbed the white box and skipped off into the kitchen. He winced. The chocolate torte would likely be smooshed by the time she got there.
It doesn’t matter.
Not everything has to be perfect. Embrace the imperfections.
Fuck. That sounded like something out of a bad commercial.
“What’s that?” Ian asked, pointing at the lotion.
“Sunscreen for Maggie. It’s got a strawberry shortcake scent and has a lighter texture, so it shouldn’t feel so thick on her skin.”
Ian stared at him for a long moment, then his lips twitched.
“What? I’m just concerned about her getting burned again. Did she stay inside today?”
He followed Ian into a living room where Jack was lying on the sofa, watching a game.
“Yep. She stayed inside. Slept in. Drank lots of water and ate three meals,” Ian said, sounding almost proud.
“Because this bossy bastard stood over her and made sure she did all those things,” Jack added, glancing up at Jameson. “What’s that?”
Jameson sighed but went through the spiel again.
Jack and Ian shared a look.
“Stop that,” he snapped as he sat. Ian handed him a bourbon.
Thank Christ.
“Stop what?” Jack asked.
“Stop looking at each other like that. It doesn’t mean anything. I’m just concerned about her. She’s sweet and I don’t want her getting hurt. It’s my job as a doctor to look after her.”
“Right.” Jack snorted.
He sighed, deciding not to argue. There was a loud clang from the kitchen, followed by a lot of swearing.
To his shock, Ian and Jack stayed where they were. He got up. He needed to go and check that she was all right.
“Don’t,” Ian warned.
“What do you mean? That was a loud crash. She could have hurt herself.”
“That’s the way she cooks,” Ian said.
“What?”
“Loudly,” Jack added. “And if you rush in to see if she needs help, she gets upset.”
“Really? What if she hurts herself?”
Ian sighed. “I’m trying to tell myself that she’s not going to.”
Another crash. More swearing.
“Holy heck. What is a cockgorilla and a diddlegiraffe?” Jameson asked.
Jack laughed. “They’re things you don’t want her to call you. So don’t be one, yeah?”
Right. Sure. He’d get right onto that.
Suddenly, she appeared in the doorway, looking flustered and unsure. “Jameson! I forgot to ask you if you want a drink.”
“I’ve got one here, sweetheart. Thank you, though. Now, do you need a hand in there?” He ignored Ian and Jack as they shook their heads at him.
Surely it didn’t hurt to offer to help?
“No. Why? Does it seem like I need help? Don’t you trust me?”
Oh fuck.