Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Translation: No. The bitch didn’t bother to pull herself out of her world to see to the man she’d vowed to share that world with.
I forked (mm-hmm, still angrily) into a mushroom and shoved it in my mouth.
Eric chuckled.
I turned to glare at him.
His chuckle became a laugh.
I reached for some bread and the butter, and one could say my swipes on the unoffending bread were somewhat violent.
“There’s something to be said about not having it all that great, then finding something great, so you know to appreciate it. Yeah?” Eric asked.
I glared at him again. “Don’t be sweet when I’m in the mood to cut a bitch.”
At that, he busted out laughing.
I took a bite of my bread.
It was good and all, but the fettucine was far superior.
Thus, I put my bread down and returned to my pasta.
Eric put his hand on my back and leaned in close.
“And it means a lot that you’d get so angry on my behalf.”
“You’re still being sweet,” I warned around a mouth full of fettucine.
He was grinning largely as he sat back and went after his own pasta.
I’d managed to remind myself that Savannah was history, Eric was sitting beside me, we were having a quiet night, and the portion I’d served up for myself wasn’t gut-busting—which should lead to wild, sweaty sex for the first time with my new hot guy—when Eric leaned forward to pull his phone out of his back pocket, muttering, “Goddammit.”
“What?” I asked.
“I’m on a case that’s close to breaking,” he said while reading the screen of his phone, “and I worried this would happen.”
“What?” I repeated.
He sent a text flying and then circled more fettucine on his fork. “The case is breaking. I gotta eat up, babe, and roll.”
Shit.
“You’re leaving?”
When he turned his eyes to me, he didn’t need to say words. I could see he was maybe even less happy about it than I was.
Still, I was tremendously unhappy about it.
“So I take it tonight is not the night for wild, sweaty sex for the first time with my new hot guy,” I remarked.
He suddenly caught me behind my head, pressed his mouth tight to mine, pulled back and replied, “If I slide in bed beside you tonight and you’re wearing something that even minorly resembles the last two nighties I’ve seen you in, prepare to get your ass woken up before it gets tagged.”
God, I wished I hadn’t wasted my best nightie on my first sleepover at Eric’s house when nothing happened.
It was then, I remembered a red number I had, which wasn’t in my normal color rotation (red was strictly accent), which was why I’d forgotten about it. I only bought it because the style was so hot, and it didn’t come in black, but I had to have it.
I’d never worn it.
Now Eric was going to get it.
My smile to him was slow.
Eric watched it, muttering, “Fuck.”
“Be safe,” I bid.
His eyes came up to mine. “Don’t dig into that cake. I’ll cut us a slice after we break this fuckin’ seal.”
Oh yeah.
He was as frustrated as I was that seal hadn’t been broken yet.
I saluted him with my fork. “Righty ho, big man.”
He pressed his lips to mine again, turned to his fettucine, downed a couple more bites, and I got another lip touch before he buttered another piece of bread and took off with bread in hand.
I took my time eating, and then I took my time cleaning up.
While I did the latter, I washed and polished my new bar set, stashed the old one I had, which wasn’t near as nice (or as expensive), and put the new one on my bar cart.
It looked amazing.
Staring at it, I didn’t want to be reassured that it was clear Jeff had cast his lot with a really good guy.
But Javi’s present, and his note, were so thoughtful, I couldn’t help but be reassured.
SEVENTEEN
AN ANGEL WILL DO PERFECTLY
My hip was moving.
When I opened my eyes, I saw weak light coming in from outside and a hot guy leaning over me in bed.
With a bleary gaze, I glanced at the clock and noted it was ten to eight.
I pushed up to rest on a hand in the mattress and looked back at Eric. “Are you just getting home?”
Eric was checking out my body, or more to the point, my nightie, but he raised his gaze to mine when he said, “No. I got home at around three. I didn’t expect it to go that long, but what went down required us to make a report to the police, which always drags shit out. When I got back, you were dead to the world, and I was wiped. So I grabbed a couple hours of sleep. Now I gotta hit the office.”
I turned my head and saw both pillows disturbed.