Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“Oh, what! Oh, shit. Winnie, do you need me to send you a little extra? I don’t mind. I know you’ll pay me back. And even if you can’t for a while—”
“No, it’s cool. Actually, the guy who owns this place let me stay here for free. He’s really generous.”
“Guy?” I swear Lyssie has a superhuman antenna for sniffing out entire volumes from words, and she latches on immediately. “Please tell me he’s hot and this is a sexy roommate situation.”
“No flipping way.” But there’s also no way I can effectively lie my way out of this one. I close my eyes. “If you insist, he’s handsome, I guess. So there.”
“You’re totally crushing. I can tell. That’s exciting, Winnie.”
“Liar. You’re just saying that because you want the sexy illicit roommate situation. Me, I’m happy to keep him at a distance.”
“You suck so much,” she says flatly. “So, he’s hot and nice and he’s not staying overnight. Why is he letting you stay there for free? Are you sleeping with him?”
“Lyssie, no. It’s not like that at all.” I inhale slowly. “There are bees here. I’m staying on as their official beekeeper for the time being.”
“…bees.” Dead silence until she speaks again. “Lady, if you were anyone else, I’d know you’re making it up. Ugh.” There’s real disappointment in her voice.
“No, it’s a good thing.” I launch into telling her about the purple honey and what a cool experience this is.
Everything I ever wanted, even if I am leaving a big heap of chaos at home burning in my wake.
“Okay, fine,” she says, amused. “The purple honey sounds cool enough, so I know you’re having fun. Just lay low until I can visit, okay? And whatever you do, keep it light. Maybe your hot landlord guy can help with more than just your glow in the dark honey.”
“Don’t push it, Lyssie.”
She laughs. “Okay, whatevs. I’ll leave you to your hot girl beekeeper life and buzz off. Just remember, older guys can be fun.”
My face heats.
“How did you even know he’s older?”
“Oh, let’s call it intuition.”
I call it freaky.
She’s always been able to do that, reading people between the lines like cards. It’s a skill that makes me jealous.
The call cuts off and I sink back down in my chair, realizing I must have stood up at some point. Back to reality, starting with cleaning up the kitchen and my meatball sub massacre.
I can’t stop smiling, and it’s not just because of Lyssie.
There’s no good reason this exile needs to be torture.
I should have some fun, even if that has nothing to do with the snarling unpredictable man-bear who’s moved into my head full-time.
After another full day of being ghosted by Archer, I’m feeling a lot less smiley and far less confident.
There’s a decent chance he considers The Kiss to End All Kisses the biggest mistake of his life.
A hot mistake, sure, but nothing more.
That’s a sane reaction. It shouldn’t leave me moping around like it does.
The knock at the door comes in the evening when I’m almost ready to curl up and watch some bad reality TV.
I just know it’s him.
Call it intuition or the fact that I know the sound of his vehicle parking or just the way he needs to hit things when he knocks—either way, I know.
I take a second to check my hair in the mirror in the hall before throwing the door open.
Just as I expected, he’s there, tall and broad and filling up the doorway with his imposing size. He’s in his usual formalwear, minus the jacket, a starched white shirt unbuttoned at the collar with a red tie.
Yes, I could eat this man alive.
But he’s been ignoring me for three whole days after our kiss.
Although I’ve been dying to see him, something about the mere sight of him here makes my throat tighten and heat flood my cheeks.
The last time we saw each other, he kissed me like he meant to steal every future breath. I kissed him back like he was oxygen.
When I don’t say anything because I’m lost in the moment, he clears his throat. “Hey, Winnie. How are you?”
“Good.”
His eyes trace over my face before dropping down to where I’ve folded my arms. I’m not sure whether I’m pumped he’s here or annoyed he’s been ghosting me, so I settle for cautious excitement.
It’s an easier emotion to manage.
“It’s been a busy few days,” he says, already making excuses for blowing me off.
“Um, right.”
“You remember Junie at The Sugar Bowl? She wanted to check out that honey and see if there’s any to sample.”
I open the door wider and let him in. “They’re your bees and your property, dude. You don’t really need my permission. Let me grab you a jar.”
Once he’s inside, he feels too big for this space, even if it’s perfectly accommodating. The man just has this way of sprawling into my personal bubble without even noticing.