Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“You’re teaching this class?”
He shrugged, not taking his gaze from her as she moved across the floor to his side. “Monitoring it. Making sure it doesn’t turn into a paint-by-number on a child.”
Her lips twitched.
“Although,” he continued, “I’d be happy to paint you.” And that was no lie. “Naked. Lying on a couch.”
Her lips quirked. “What color is the sky in your world, Mr. Conner?”
“Same as it is in yours.” He nudged her with his shoulder.
“I doubt that. I called Dawson and she said she was happy to watch Greer tonight. I just… I need more notice than that.” She walked away.
“I’m sorry. I know that was sprung on you. Thank you.” He wanted to tug her against him and bury his nose in her hair. Instead, he held still and watched her as she wandered around the room, looking but not touching. “Dinner is at my place.”
She froze. “Am I cooking?”
“Not unless you want to. My dad will make something and have it ready in time.”
She turned to face him. “Your dad cooks?”
He smiled. “Pops does a bit of everything. Not a gourmet chef but he can make a mean meal.”
“He’s amazing.”
“Can’t argue with that, but we need to lose the appreciation in your tone when you talk about him. It’s sounding like you’re fonder of him than me and I just realized I’m a very jealous fiancé.”
She propped her hip against the wall. “Just realized?”
He nodded and headed toward her. “Like, seconds ago.”
The door opened and the kids came in. Emma shrugged.
“Interesting,” she muttered. “I’ll be in your office. I’m going to see what I can do to get you organized.”
“Don’t do any copying without me,” he teased.
She ran her gaze over him, lips twitching. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Then she walked away and yep, he stared. Again.
…
Emma glanced around Linc’s office. There wasn’t much in the way of his days as a major league baseball player. And she knew he’d won awards. He was a private man. And a seriously disorganized one.
She didn’t want to ruin his setup, if he had one, but she needed to bring some order to this chaotic mess if it was the last thing she did. Picking a corner, she got started.
A bunch of rolled-up papers sat in a box on the floor. She reached in to pull one out. Emma had a moment of hesitation before she unrolled it.
Holy crap. This is a piece of art.
Immediately recognizing the location as Palisade Glen, the local covered bridge, she took in the incredible detail. Questions, she had so many questions.
Putting it down, she opened up another. Catamount Lake.
The next five were more scenes from around Rock Falls. But the paintings weren’t new. The one of Palisade Glen was before the bridge had been fixed. All of it begged the question: who had done them and why did Linc have them rolled up in a box in his office? His father perhaps? His mother?
She shook her head even as she continued perusing through the paintings. Emma knew about his family from growing up in the same town as him and her maybe-not-so-mild obsession with him. She knew his mother, a Native American from down south, was not part of their lives. Originally, she’d been from the local tribe, but she’d headed south and had returned here with Linc’s father only to go back after Linc was born—with no contact with anyone. And she hadn’t been back since he was a little boy. These paintings were more recent, as far as she could tell.
Emma wanted them up on the walls. Even lining the halls of the center. While the sports angle was impressive and she appreciated the attention the kids would get from three professional players, she also knew that not every child wanted to do sports, or even could at a level that would give them star status.
“I wonder if he has frames for these?”
She got nosy and began digging. Time passed, though she wasn’t focused on it, and when she turned around and found Linc leaning in the doorway, she jumped, a girlish squeal escaping.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, hating how she sounded out of breath.
How the hell did that man look so good? He’d had a long day schmoozing with a potential investor and dealing with children. Yet, there he was—deliciously rumpled in a way that made her think of bedrooms, walls, couches and more orgasms than she could dream of. His hiking boots were crossed at the ankles and his baggy jeans tugged taut in just the right spots. His shirt hung partially untucked over his waist and his corded arms were crossed as he stared at her staring at him.
More of that incredible arm porn for her to add to her visual bank.
“You mean in my office?”
Minor detail. She lifted her chin and sniffed. “I mean shouldn’t you still be out schmoozing the big money man?”