Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
I cleared my throat and rubbed my palms up and down my thighs as I watched him walk around the front of his vehicle and toward the entrance of the hardware store. And then he stopped and looked over his shoulder, and I swore he was looking right at my store, right through the front window, and could see me sitting here. I doubted it, given the position of the sun and how there was probably a glare on the glass, but it felt like he was staring right at me.
The feeling of him looking at me was so pronounced I actually felt tingles race up and down my arms, felt goose bumps form along my skin. I had this effect every single time I saw him. My body instantly reacted, my nipples hardening, my pussy becoming wet and uncomfortably sensitive. I felt my panties become saturated, soaked with my arousal.
There was something seriously wrong with me, but I felt like it was a good kind of wrong, the kind that had you doing things you normally wouldn’t do and not regretting it. And all the things I wanted to do with Big were those good kinds of wrong, the kind that made things permanent, the kind that had me being his.
Chapter Three
Landry
I was about to run myself a bath, pour myself a big-ass glass of white wine, and put on some Netflix as I did nothing but soak and relax, when my cell ringing stopped those plans for the time being.
Because the business calls were forwarded to my cell phone, I always answered in a professional manner, even if it was my mom on the other end. “The Soapy Bucket Cleaning Company. How may I help you?” There was a moment of silence, and I pulled the phone away thinking maybe there was a disconnection or a hang-up, but then I heard a gruff voice as a man cleared his throat.
“Yeah, I’m thinking I need someone to help with my house.”
Although the man sounded extremely masculine, he also sounded pretty nervous, as if he were asking something dirty and he didn’t want his mom to hear. But I was used to it. A lot of people felt uncomfortable asking someone for help, especially cleaning their house, even if they were paying for it.
“Well, I can certainly help you with that. I’ll just need some details and then I can let you know what we have to offer and if anything suits your needs.”
He cleared his throat again, and I knitted my brows. I had this tingling on the back of my neck, although I couldn’t quite place why I was having this funny feeling. “Or, you’re more than welcome to check out the website.” I rattled off the Internet address, but I had a feeling he wasn’t writing it down.
The way he spoke in a rough timbre kind of led me to believe maybe he wasn’t a technology type of guy. I didn’t know anything about him, so I was generalizing, but I was pretty good at reading people, even over the phone, and he was screaming a man who probably did manual labor and was only indoors when it was time to eat or sleep.
“Yeah, I don’t need to look at your website, ‘cause I’m all thumbs with that tech stuff.”
I knew it.
“I actually saw your flyer at the grocery store.”
“Oh.” Paper flyers were pretty much a thing of the past, given technology, but the little town of Stone Creek wasn’t like the rest of the world. I’d come to find that out as soon as I moved here. People relied on the bulletin boards posted all over town and seemingly in every single business.
I’d felt silly at first, tacking them up to the corkboards, feeling like I was back in the nineties, but when I did the survey after I was done cleaning a house, one of the questions asked how they heard about my business. And every single person said a flyer at a local business was how they found me.
I probably didn’t even need to keep my website up and running, but it looked professional, was easy access, and was a point of reference if I ever wanted to have anybody check it out.
“Okay, that’s not a problem. What type of services are you looking for?”
There was a moment of silence.
“What am I looking for?”
I got this funny feeling when he asked that question, repeating what I’d just said. I made my way over to my table and sat down, grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil to jot down the information he gave me so I could better assist him in letting me know what he wanted. I was a one-woman operation, which meant I wasn’t free at the drop of a hat and had to do everything myself. It also took me quite a bit longer to finish tasks than if I had a team, but again, this being such an intimate town, people actually preferred it that way. They didn’t want a houseful of random people and instead wanted someone they knew, trusted.