Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 126840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
I sensed Bree thought I shouldered some of the blame for the breakup in that I was being too hard on Bryan. She might seem excited Core had asked me to dinner, but she’d always liked Bryan quite a bit.
And it had to be said—though, nothing wrong with it, not only was it programmed into her, but I could see the allure—Bree was one of those women who dreamed of the white dress.
I had a feeling she saw me in that white dress with Bryan.
My email was up, and when I glanced at it, I noted I had one from the staffing agency.
I opened it. It was details about prospects for my PA job.
I was keen to see what they had for me, so I moved on from the girls and Bryan, into reading applications and resumes.
And as usual, I got so engrossed in work, I totally forgot I was going to text Archie.
13
BACONATOR
Hellen
I was deeply involved in editing some content that would go up on TikTok for Alaia, a curvy content creator who did the trifecta: clothes, makeup and hair, and had over five million followers, when the recorder notes sounded on my phone.
I looked down at it and saw I had a text from Core.
I picked it up, opened it and read, Finished. Swinging by my place to shower and let Nanook out. Should be at yours in an hour. Cool?
I glanced at the time on my computer.
It was five twenty-three.
Shit!
I still didn’t know what to wear and I lived twenty minutes from my office (traffic willing), so if I finished what I was doing, closed down and took off, I’d only have twenty or thirty minutes left to get ready for our date.
I did not want to push it back, not even a minute.
I had the feeling bikers weren’t all that picky about appropriate date apparel and further, Core wouldn’t take me on a chartered flight to eat dinner at the Ritz in Paris, so I didn’t need to suddenly produce an LBD worthy of the Ritz.
Fortunately, Denver was an anything-goes fashion city, but like the jean shirt was called a Canadian tuxedo, jeans could just be considered tuxedo in the Mile High City if you styled them right.
So I texted, Cool. See you soon.
I didn’t send it though. Instead, I wondered if I should sign off like I normally did with people I cared about.
I didn’t wonder long.
I typed in xx and sent the text.
Then I shook a leg.
An hour (and three minutes) later, when my doorbell rang, I was in my bedroom, wishing I’d taken one single minute to text Archie for advice, because this feat ended up being harder than I expected.
I’d been through four outfits and it was becoming clear I didn’t really have what I would consider biker babe garb.
Currently, I was wearing a pair of seriously faded crop jeans with a slight tear in one knee and a sleek white tube top, its hem reaching low, providing full midriff coverage and tucking into my jeans. I’d put on my zebra wedges with ankle ribbons.
I’d also spent time giving my hair more fluff and adding a bit of makeup, nothing extreme, but it definitely said “night out.”
Last, I’d carefully done my lips in one of my several versions of very red lipstick.
It was time, so I’d have to do.
I quickly grabbed the perfume I’d put on that morning (Jo Malone Wood Sage and Sea Salt), spritzed minimally for a refresh, then I moved out of my room.
I checked the peephole and instantly started salivating.
I then opened the door.
And there stood Core in another pair of faded jeans, not as faded as mine or what he wore the day before, but still faded.
Up top was a crisp, black button down, which made his chest seem to need its own zip code.
His hair was still wet from his shower, curling more than it normally did when it was dry, specifically around his ears.
I needed to know his last name.
I needed to know why on earth he didn’t think he was good for me.
I needed to get my fingers in that hair.
I needed him to fuck me.
My gaze shifted from his curls to his eyes.
And automatically, I took a step back.
Instantly, he took a step in.
I took another step back.
He did another forward step and shut the door with such force, it slammed, and I jumped.
He suddenly stepped wide and to the side, so I had to do a half pivot to keep him in front of me.
He stopped moving.
I stood in front of him, unable to move.
We stared at each other.
At the look on his face, I was close to hyperventilating.
My panties were drenched.
And my back was to the short hall that led to the tiny powder room and the hallway closet that stored the washer and dryer.