Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
The way I had expected the end of the day to go was that I would show up at my grandparents’ old house, hopefully see that it needed a new porch or something that I felt like I could handle, settle in, and get started on repairs in the morning. I had run over the idea so many times in my head that I was absolutely sure that it was how it would go. Even if the repairs were worse than I thought, I figured I could handle it.
Then the lights didn’t work.
So much for staying the night there. So much for getting up early and assessing the repairs and maybe even venturing out and looking for a job. Thankfully, the payout on the maintenance account would keep me from absolutely having to do that for a little while yet, though I needed to save as much of it as I could for the repairs. A few days of getting acclimated to being back in Murdock would be fine, though.
Of course, being back in town wasn’t the only thing to get acclimated to. Having this insanely hot and apparently very single man living next door was going to take some getting used to as well. I could not believe the luck I had in him not only finding me by the side of the road and helping me out, but also for him to be living next door to my grandparents’ old place. It was like the universe was trying to apologize for everything else it had thrown at me.
Now I was peeling off my wet jeans in my sexy neighbor’s guest bathroom. I reached in and started the water, turning it as hot as I could stand it and watching as the steam billowed out and filled the room.
I stepped in and let the water roll over me, burning away the stress in my muscles. Letting my eyes shut, white lines shooting across my vision, I tried to relax. It wasn’t easy. Mostly because I knew that just on the other side of the wall was a tall, gorgeous man, cooking me dinner while I stood under his shower, naked. Parts of my body that had lain dormant for some time started to wake up, but I shook it off.
After my ex, it was hard to trust anyone. It was going to be difficult to get myself in the habit of not assuming that everyone was doing something to hurt me in some way. It was one of the reasons I felt like I was standing in the shower at that moment: I was fighting against every instinct that told me to just lie down in the dank, destroyed house and cry until morning rather than trust my neighbor.
My sexy, sexy, neighbor.
I felt grateful for everything he had done for me, and it was kind of awkward. I was definitely not feeling walking back down into town in the rain, especially since that was miles and miles away. Nor was I looking forward to the bill from whatever rideshare company I could convince to come get me. A night where I could just put on my pajamas and go to sleep sounded amazing, even if it did involve accepting help from a stranger.
Once I was well and truly clean and had spent every single second I thought I could get away with under the hot water without being a bad guest, I turned the shower off and stepped out. The soft mat under my feet wicked away some of the water, and I dug my toes in it as I dried off, enjoying how fluffy it was under my tired soles.
In an effort to make sure I was treating this impromptu dinner with the appropriate amount of distance, as well as to finally be comfortable, I slipped on the frumpiest, baggiest, most comfortable sweater I could along with some stretch pants.
I took a look at myself in the mirror and nodded before pulling my hair back in a tight ponytail. I was as unattractive as I could make myself on short notice. That should do it.
Opening the door of the bathroom, I was immediately hit by a delicious smell. Warm and spicy, it didn’t smell like any pasta sauce I knew, and I followed it into the living room. The kitchen was open to the room with a large arch, and I could see Ryan’s wide back hovering over a pan with a dish towel draped over his shoulder. He had gone down to just a white T-shirt, which was stretched tightly over his muscular frame, and my breath hitched before I shook off the desire to stare at him.
“It smells wonderful in here,” I said.
He jumped, obviously startled, and I felt a pang of guilt run through me. He recovered quickly and cleared his throat, turning back to the pan and stirring again before looking back at me.