Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“Think you’ll let me drive the Bronco?” I question, already knowing the answer.
“Do you know how to drive a stick?” He cocks his head to the side.
I throw my head back on a laugh. All the innuendo he just put into that statement has me chuckling like a loon.
“No, but I’m sure you could teach me a thing or two about driving a stick, in more ways than one.” Braxton moves so he’s standing above me in the office chair I’m sitting in, his hands gripping the arms. He’s wearing a smile on his face, and when he bites that lower lip of his, I’m freaking swooning.
“Oh, I will, but it won’t be in my office. And our first time, it won’t be in the Bronco either. It’ll be when you’re on my bed, naked, writhing in pleasure after I’ve had my mouth on every inch of your skin. Only then will you learn just how to drive my stick.” Braxton leans in, his lips finding mine, the slow sneaking of his tongue teasing my lips causing me to open for him, but he’s a tease. I only get a hint of a kiss before he pulls back.
“Ugh,” I grumble, rubbing my legs together, the lace of my thong drenched in my desire for him. Braxton sees it all—the movement of my thighs, the way my nipples are in desperate need for his mouth, he sees it all.
“Be patient. It’s been how many years? One more night won’t kill you. The guys are almost done for the day. You can be done if you want,” he offers.
“Uh, that would be a negative. The phone has been ringing like mad. I still need to finish a few things, but then yes, I’ll get out of your hair,” I joke. I’m not sure if his shop is always this busy or how he managed it before I came in.
“It can wait, but if you’re going to hang for a bit, I’ll call the diner and pick us up dinner. I have Mrs. Williams car I want to finish so she can pick it up in the morning, and then I’ll take a look at a few things on yours, but I’m telling you, siren, it’ll be in the junkyard before winter hits,” he states, like it’s a matter of fact.
“Dinner, yes. My car, that’s a hard no. I’m saving to find a place to lay my head at night. I love my parents, but that is not where I want to stay for the next however many years, and my car is paid off,” I throw back at him.
“Tell me what you want. We’ll come back to where you’ll be living and what kind of car you’ll be in.” He kisses my forehead, leaving me in a stupor until he disappears from my sight.
“That man is going to give me anxiety. Who the hell knows what will really happen? I mean, sure, I’d love to live with him, but there’s no way he’s getting rid of my car,” I grumble out while returning to my work.
“I heard that. You want to move in? Consider it done, but we’re not negotiating about the car.”
“Holy shit! Quit sneaking up on me!” My stomach drops when he makes that announcement.
“Not my fault you’re so lost in the clouds. Just letting you know, we are the real thing and this is happening.” This time, he really leaves, and I keep my mouth shut, but my smile is taking over my face because I know Braxton means every word he just said.
Eight
Braxton
I can’t say that it wasn’t awkward as hell walking up to the Jennings’ house and not worrying a little bit, especially with how Bridger behaved with Rowen yesterday. It didn’t help much that he never did apologize to her, a fact that she’s not letting go. Even when I told Rowen he may not, she just grumbled, “He’s a bonehead, and Kellie will sink her teeth into him.” I laughed mostly because she’s not wrong.
Tonight, though, knocking on Rob and Talia’s door to pick up Rowen for a date, I’m man enough to admit that if her parents don’t approve, that will bring the tally up to three on odds that are stacked against us.
I stand at their front door in nicer clothes than I would usually wear. There’s no way I’d wear my old stained jeans. So, today, I reached for a pair of jeans that I probably wore one other time, I’m sure at my mother’s direction, a gray shirt, and I threw on a lightweight jacket. Hell, I’m even wearing nice boots instead of my usual shit kickers. That should at least garner me some kind of points in the Jennings household.
The door opens, and Talia Jennings is standing before me. Rowen is definitely her spitting image. Rob’s gene pool didn’t factor into her.