Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I don’t care, honestly. She could have grown up on the planet Mars, and I wouldn’t even bat an eye. Because I’m fully focused on how she is eating my pie and wishing like hell I hadn’t said this wasn’t about sex. My need to get her to make those noises while I eat her pie is terrifying, for sure.
But I want to.
CHAPTER 8
Eliza
Coleson’s eyes are all over me.
I don’t even think he is tasting the food he is eating as he devours me with his eyes. Which is a shame because, oh my God, he can cook. The potpie is so creamy, filling, and I can taste every spice he added. The crust is buttery and flaky, and though I want more, I know I need to chill since he made a cake too. Never in my life has someone cooked for me like this. While Louisa can cook, she never cooks for me, only her fiancé, and I get the leftovers. I don’t even know why I am thinking of them when I have Coleson in front of me.
Even in the low light, his bright-blue eyes are shining. His hair falls over his brow in a messy but sexy way. I want to move it out of his eyes, but I know if I do, I won’t stop touching him. His lips shine from where he has licked off the bits of potpie that were left behind. His jaw is clean-shaven, and even with the scents of coffee and potpie, I can still smell him. That rustic, woodsmoke smell. It’s intoxicating, just as he is.
Coleson has on a black button-down, but the top few buttons are open, and I can see the ink of a tattoo that graces his chest. The fabric is pulling taut across his shoulders, and his forearms are full of tattoos that are on display from where he has rolled up his sleeves. I know that his pants hug his thighs and ass like a second skin. I was thoroughly checking him out when I went to get the knife from the kitchen. He’s stunning and I want to believe that the attraction is mutual, but why did he wait a year to ask me out?
I’ve been asking myself that all afternoon while I prepared for tonight. I went through every scenario I could, but nothing made sense. I don’t know why now he is asking me out, but why am I questioning it? I’m here. He cooked for me. He’s looking at me like he wants to eat me. Why the hell does it matter what the reason is? But I am still wondering. Instead of asking, though, I say, “I grew up all over. We moved a lot.”
Around a bite, he asks, “Was that good or bad?”
“A little bit of both,” I admit. “But I had my sisters, so that’s good.”
“You have more than the one who runs the bookstore?”
I smile, and it blows my mind that no one ever connects Clara and Elliot to us. It’s always just Louisa and me, and I get that we favor each other, but the younger girls look like us too. “Yeah, three younger ones. One lives in Nashville, and the other two live here.”
“I didn’t realize there were so many of you,” he says with a teasing grin. “I’m an only child.”
“That’s lonely.”
He seems to agree with me, giving me a small nod. “It was, but there is a lot to do around here. I ran amok through the woods.”
I’m not surprised in the least. A lot of people around here are woodsy. Not me, though. My version of being outdoorsy is drinking a glass of wine on the porch with a good book. “I have to admit, I have never been in any woods around here. Not a fan of bears.”
He scoffs. “Getting chased by a bear is the best.”
My eyes widen. “You’ve been chased!”
He laughs. “No, but I’m sure it’s cool as hell.”
I laugh along with him, shaking my head. “You’re insane.”
He doesn’t disagree, finishing off his plate. “I’ll have to take you hiking.”
Hope blooms in my chest. That would be really nice, but the rational part of me reminds me not to get ahead of myself. “I don’t know if I’d enjoy it.”
His eyes burn into mine then, slowly and almost eagerly. “I’d make sure of it.” I swallow hard at his promise and look away to finish my own meal. “Would you like more?”
“Would you judge me if I said yes?” I ask, peeking up at him from beneath my lashes.
“I’d be offended if you said no.”
My face breaks into a grin. “Yes, please.”
As we dig in, I ask, “Do you still play for the Knoxville Bears?” I know he does, but he hasn’t brought it up yet.
“Yup. I had practice this morning.”