Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“I liked that,” I manage to get out, and he raises an eyebrow.
“Which part?”
“Well, all of it, but particularly the throat thing. Sexy.”
His lips tip up into a soft smile, and he glides the backs of his fingers over my skin, up to my throat. But he doesn’t grip; he doesn’t claim.
“It didn’t hurt you?”
“No,” I whisper and kiss his shoulder.
“Good.” He dips down to kiss me, rubs his nose against mine, and then rolls off of me and pulls me with him, still in his arms.
Chapter Twelve
Remington
“I thought about making you a big dinner,” she says as she lays snuggled up in my arms. “But then I was running out of time, so I snagged us some pizza from Old Town.”
Right now, I’d eat just about anything. I’m starving. But I don’t love the idea of leaving this bed. Of leaving this moment.
Erin kisses my chin, then disentangles herself from me and walks back into the bathroom.
Everything about her is amazing. She has curves in all the right places, and she fits against me perfectly.
I hear the water running and decide to leave her room and head up to my own to clean up and put on some clothes.
When I walk into the kitchen, Erin’s already there, with two pizzas on the island. She’s in black leggings and a University of Washington sweatshirt that’s full of holes, the neck is cut off, and it hangs over one shoulder.
And just like that, I’m hard again.
“Millie told me that you like sausage and onions and peppers, so that’s what I got you.”
“And what do you like?”
“Just plain ol’ pepperoni. When I was a kid, I claimed that I was allergic to onions, but it turns out that I just hate them.” She slides pieces of the pie onto plates, and we each open a bottle of beer and make our way into the family room, where we can sit on the couch.
I love that Erin feels comfortable enough to pull her feet up and wrap up in a blanket. “I’m glad that you feel comfortable here and have made it your home.”
“It’s a comfortable house,” she says and takes a bite, then covers her mouth with her hand so she can speak more. “Everything here is cozy and comfy. Warm, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“Did Jessica do that? Decorate and make it homey?”
I frown down into my pizza, and Erin reaches out for me and rests her hand on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry. It was just a curious question, but if you don’t want to talk about that, it’s totally okay.”
“No, we agreed to talk more tonight, and this is part of that, right?” I take a bite and then reach out to take Erin’s foot and pull it into my lap, massaging the arch of her foot. “We didn’t live in this house when Jess was alive. My parents still lived here, and we lived in a house on the other side of the property, not too far from the barn. I’ve since turned that into a new bunkhouse for the ranch hands. Anyway, when my dad decided to retire and build a smaller house for him and Mom to live in, I packed up the old house and brought the kids here. I ended up buying new furniture because the old stuff didn’t really fit in here. And it was time for a fresh start.”
Erin takes a sip of her beer. “That makes sense. You have good taste in furniture.”
I grin at her and then frown when I remember the conversation I had with my mom the other day.
“What’s wrong?” Erin asks.
“Oh, I just remembered that I have to try to hire a new bookkeeper for the ranch. My mom’s done the job since she married my dad, but she wants to truly retire so she can do other things, and that’s understandable. But every time we’ve tried to hire someone, it didn’t go well.”
“I might apply for it,” Erin says nonchalantly and grabs another slice. “Maybe I could do that while the kids are in school.”
I feel my eyes narrow, and my heart picks up the pace. “Are you qualified?”
“Absolutely. I went to college for business management and minored in accounting. I did the books for the last job I had in Seattle. I’m sure that I could learn what you need, if Joy’s willing to train me.”
Chewing my own food, I think it over. This almost sounds too good to be true. “I’d have to have you speak with Mom because she’s the one who knows exactly what we need.”
“Of course.” Erin shrugs, drawing my attention to her smooth, bare shoulder as she licks some sauce off her thumb. “Happy to do that.”
“You don’t even know what I’d pay you or how many hours it would be.”
“Grumpy,” she says, “I was shoveling horse poop the other day in the barn because I was bored, and you won’t let me clean the house.”