Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
She turns her attention away from me, her eyes darting over the walls once again before pulling a tape measure from her waistband.
I head into the kitchen, leaving her to work on decorating—interior designing—my house.
If I stay and watch, I’ll try to interject myself into her project. I can only take so many scowls and so much disappointment in my day.
I drain the coffee carafe into my cup, combining it with the coffee I still haven’t drank from this morning. I probably won’t drink this one either, but my pettiness knows no bounds these days, it seems.
Of course, my mind is right back on that kiss when I head to the front door to put my damn shoes back on, but I don’t risk a look in Madison’s direction.
“Chase.”
I freeze with my hand on the doorknob. The part of me that sometimes lives in an alternate universe makes my heart pound at the off chance that she’s stopping me so I can kiss her goodbye.
The boys are down for their afternoon nap, and I do my best to always make it back to the house to be involved in this part of their daily routine. My mind races with all the things that we could accomplish in the next hour and a half.
I’m licking my lips like a hungry wolf when I turn back to face her.
“What?” she asks after a long moment of silence.
“You called my name,” I remind her, earning a misplaced frown. “Get distracted by your little project?”
For emphasis, I point at the clipboard she’s hugging to her chest as if she has to protect company secrets.
Her eyes narrow. “Job.”
“What?”
I don’t know if my thoughts and my reality are tangling together, but this woman isn’t making any sense.
“It’s a job. It’s not a project.” She says the last word in a tone that tells me she isn’t impressed at all with my mistake. “And it’s separate from watching the boys. I know I took a lot on at one time, but I can manage both things.”
I hold my hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”
I don’t say anything else because I’m afraid it will only be met with hostility.
Her upper lip twitches in irritation.
“I’m going to work now,” I say and turn back toward the door in an effort to make my escape.
“Chase.”
I blow out a long breath before turning around to face her.
“I used up the last of the apples at lunch for the boys. Can you grab some more on the way home?”
“Anything else?”
She shakes her head before walking away.
She calls out to me for a third time before I can even lift my hand to the doorknob.
“Yes, dear,” I tease as I face her once again.
She points to the clipboard in her opposite hand. “This is a job.”
“I know,” I quickly agree. I don’t need another outburst. The last one was reminiscent of the one she gave me in the car on the way to the airport last week.
“I’m going to bill you for my time.”
“Okay.”
“Separately from what you pay me to watch the boys.”
“Okay.”
Without another word, she spins around and walks off, her bare feet slapping on the marble.
Chapter 16
Madison
It’s been a weird two weeks, and even weirder since the altercation over working on the house the other day.
Okay, it’s been weird since I took it upon myself to press my lips to his without warning.
I thought I was avoiding him, but he tried to sneak out of the house yesterday after the boys went down for a nap, so I think we’ve been trying to avoid each other.
I apologized in Detroit, and I don’t make a habit of doing it a second time.
I know it’s not smart to compare Chase and Sam, but my ex would treat me like shit when he was upset with me. Every situation, no matter what the topic, was somehow turned around on me until I felt the gnawing need to make it up to him even when he was in the wrong.
It’s one of the few things I’ve refused to continue since my world was rocked two months ago.
I’ve avoided Chase because after the kiss, I couldn’t stop watching his mouth when he talked, when he ate, when he was chewing on his bottom lip while writing measurements down as he was working on the boys’ play area the other day. I’ve been hyper focused on that mouth.
Maybe it was that my apology wasn’t genuine that’s left me so out of sorts. That kiss, as short as it was, breathed life back into a libido I thought had left long ago. I can’t help but be a little infatuated by it, so in true Madison fashion, I’ve avoided the idea of it all together.
Mostly.
I’ve mostly avoided it because right now, I’m in a lounger on the pool decking as Chase and the boys play in the water. I have my sunglasses firmly in place, but that’s only because I know I can’t keep myself from looking at him. A wet Chase Woodson? I may severely dislike him for things that went down over a decade ago, but I’m also not stupid. Unlike the women at the pool back in Detroit, I’m not brazen enough to take pictures of him. I will, however, stare and commit the sight of the water dripping down his muscled torso to memory.