Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“Probably even more with life coaches they want the approval of?” he asked.
“You got it.”
“That’s not me,” he said.
“We’ll see,” I replied, then I introduced him to Stacy, watching as he headed out to talk with her about what dog needed washing next.
A few minutes, and he was back with Sherlock—a stunning wolfhound mix that was barely a year old.
“Let me take Lacy back and then I’ll help you with him,” I said, heading down the hall, Stacy intercepting me as she took Lacy.
“Interesting volunteers you’re bringing in,” she said. “Owner of the Hurricanes? How the hell did he wind up here?”
“He’s a client,” I laughed.
“Whatever he is, we can use the help, so thanks.”
“Always,” I said before heading back to the washroom.
Ethan had guided Sherlock into the walk-in tub, having shed his suit jacket across the room and rolled his sleeves up to the elbows.
And goddamn him, why was that such a sexy look? Was it because it showed off the muscles in his forearms while he scratched Sherlock’s ears? Or was it the combination of him taking care of the dog and giving me a hint of what rested beneath those amazing suits and dress shirts?
“Here,” I said when I saw Sherlock’s hesitance to move in the tub so Ethan could reach the shower head. “Sherlock,” I said in a familiar tone. “Turn for me,” I said, gently encouraging him to move to the side.
He did, and Ethan reached for the showerhead, turning on the water and guiding it over Sherlock’s thick, black coat.
“He’s a friend of yours,” Ethan said.
“The best,” I answered, scratching Sherlock’s ears and accepting his neck kisses while Ethan got him wet. “He’s a favorite of mine,” I explained. “I fell for him the second he was turned in here a few months ago. Stacy saved him from an abusive breeder.” And I couldn’t help but empathize with the dog, who had been used and discarded the second he was deemed worthless. “I’m saving up for a house,” I continued. “But I’m in a third-floor apartment now, and while I know he could handle not having a yard, the stairs would be hell on his hips. If not for that, I would’ve already taken him home.”
“Damn,” Ethan said, lathering Sherlock with shampoo. “Poor dog.”
“Yeah, but I get to spend a lot of time with him here,” I hurried to add. “I take him on walks five times a week, along with a handful of other dogs that need the exercise while waiting on adoption.”
“Busy woman,” Ethan said.
“I’m sure being you is just as much of a time crunch.”
He laughed. “Being me?”
“Billionaire. Owner of the Hurricanes. Rescuer of women who’ve been stood up by their dates.” I cleared my throat. “High-profile clients.”
“I rescued you, huh?” he asked.
“Moving on,” I said, ignoring the question. “Your life has to be busier than mine.”
“Similar,” he said. “If you’d asked to see me on my turf this session, I could’ve just as easily been taking you on a work lunch in order to squeeze you in.”
I raised my brows, a little jolt flaring through me at the idea of him squeezing me in anywhere. God, this man had me in knots and he was just washing a dog in a Gucci suit while flashing me smiles that had my knees going weak.
Sherlock shifted, leaning into me a little before Ethan worked on his paws. “Yeah, tell me about all that,” I said. “The Hurricanes. How did that happen?”
“They were the first big purchase I made after I earned my first billion.”
My lips parted, shock racing through my veins. First billion. First.
“That makes sense,” I said, barely able to hold back my laugh. This wasn’t exactly something that came up naturally in conversations I had. “And how did you do that, exactly? The usual way? Started in the mail room of Billionaires-R-Us and moved up from there?”
“If only,” he said, chuckling as he moved to Sherlock’s other paw. “I didn’t grow up with money. My parents are divorced, but it was amicable, and my father came into his first million with a start-up right before I went into college. I was lucky enough that my father put me through Harvard, and I busted my ass to learn everything I could about the market, start-ups, domains, money in general.” He shrugged. “I used what I learned to grow my wealth from the ground up, and here I am.”
“And here you are,” I said. “Impressive. You make it sound like anyone can do it.”
“No,” he said. “I sacrificed a lot to get where I am. It takes dedication, the willingness to learn, and more than that, a shit-ton of luck. My mom runs a small business here in Charleston. She’s always been an entrepreneur, so I guess you can say it runs in my blood.” He moved to scrub Sherlock’s side. “What about you?” he asked. “Did you always want to be a life coach?”