Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I opened my mouth, then closed it. What did I say to him? I didn’t want to be rude, but, well, unlike Nathan, Thatcher was actually a bad person. A very sexy, rich, powerful, bad person. Who was sitting on a bench in the park, talking to me.
Gathering myself, I licked my lips and tried to think of something that wasn’t stupid to say. Why I cared about what he thought of me, I didn’t know—scratch that. I knew. I was sheltered, not stupid or blind. He was ridiculously hot.
“Uh, you startled me,” I blurted.
He lifted his eyebrows just a touch as his eyes met mine. “You’re nervous,” he said. His dark gaze seemed to be studying my face. Then, a smirk touched his lips. “You know who I am, don’t you, little doll?”
Little doll? Was that an insult, or was it … not?
I nodded.
He let out a deep chuckle that caused goose bumps to cover my arms.
“Did you ask, or did someone tell you?”
If I told him I’d investigated him myself because I could not get him out of my head, he might think I was a stalker. I was gonna have to lie. I had done a lot of that today.
“I, uh, well, you’re well known, and I, uh … people saw you in the parking lot, and, uh—”
“You asked around.” Although he wasn’t smiling, there was a small tug on the corner of his lips, like he wanted to.
I might as well be honest. I nodded.
He took the bag of cookies from me and opened it to peer inside. I sat there silently as he reached into the bag and pulled one out, then inspected it.
Bess didn’t make them every day. In fact, the days she made them, she’d call me to let me know. I was one of the few people who chose them over her famous peanut butter cup cookies or chocolate chip with caramel drizzle. My mom loved her strawberry shortcake cookies best.
“Lemon crinkle,” I said.
His eyes shifted to me. “They any good?”
I nodded. “They’re my favorite.”
He took a bite, and I got a funny stir in my chest as I watched his neck muscles move while he chewed. He had a lot of muscles. I’d never thought about a guy’s neck being sexy, but this one fit that description. When it stopped moving, my eyes snapped back up to his face, and I realized he’d caught me ogling his neck. Great.
He didn’t say anything, but took out another cookie and handed it to me. “You’d better eat this one before I finish off the bag.”
I took it.
“You get cookies and sit out here alone often?” he asked as he got himself another one.
I shook my head. “No. I mean, I get cookies kinda often, but I just take them home. I had other plans tonight, but they fell through. I didn’t want to go home just yet.”
When he took another bite, I looked over toward the street and started eating the one he had given me. I was afraid if I looked in his direction, I would start lusting over his neck again like a creeper.
“Relax, Capri.”
His voice made my breath catch, and I had to physically think about how to inhale oxygen properly. Turning my gaze back to him, I swallowed the cookie I had been chewing.
“I’m relaxed,” I lied.
He grinned. “Ah, little doll, there you go, sinning again. You keep that up, and you might end up a heathen like me.”
Between his grin, calling me little doll again, and teasing me, I was unable not to smile. No one had ever made me feel like he did. Which was very bad, but it still felt like … like I imagined flying would feel. Scary. Exciting. Breathtaking.
“You make me nervous,” I admitted.
I was afraid that might offend him. I realized I shouldn’t have said it.
“Good,” he replied.
I was watching him chew again and tried to find anything else to look at. But what had he meant by good? Was he warning me? Telling me to keep my distance? But he was here beside me. I hadn’t sought him out.
“You like riding horses,” he said then, and my eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes, but how did you know that?”
I’d been riding since I was nine years old. One of the members of the church had stables with quarter horses. She gave lessons and had offered them to me for free. I had fallen in love with horses and riding the very first day.
“You ever been on a thoroughbred?” he asked me without answering my question.
I shook my head. “I’ve only ridden quarter horses.”
He finished off his third cookie, and then I watched in fascination as his tongue flicked over his lower lip. Oh my.
“Quarter horses are fast. You race them?”
I blinked and jerked my gaze back up to his. There was an amused gleam in their dark depths. I had to stop staring at him like a weirdo. He had to be used to it though.