Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
“You seem sure of yourself,” I tell him. Normally, this kind of cockiness would rub me the wrong way, but right now it’s rubbing me the right way.
“It’s inevitable, Red.”
I know he’s right. I want this man, my husband, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before.
“I know,” I say when he lets my wrist go. I continue touching his chest but don’t dare go lower again. “Is this okay?” My whisper is soft and out of place since we are alone. I feel so tentative around him and I really don’t want to.
“Fuck, Florence, you can touch me whenever and wherever you want to,” he groans which makes me smile. I love the effect I have on him.
I just need to get my shit together and remember that I’m a Jorgensen. I’ve got this. Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I actually will…
One Week Later
For the first time in over a month, I put on my favorite pair of teal scrubs and Crocs before stepping out into the kitchen. It’s my first day working at Fletcher’s office and I’m so freaking excited. Having only ever worked in the emergency room, I’ve never gotten the chance to work with patients more than once. I'm looking forward to building a rapport with my patients and a small-town office is just the place to do that.
“Good morning, wife,” Fletcher says as soon as he sees me. Today he’s wearing navy scrubs because he’s got a noninvasive procedure to perform this morning. Normally, he wears a tie to work, but I like him in scrubs just as well. I can’t help the shiver that courses through my body wherever he calls me wife, which is quite often. I’m sure if it is the word itself or the rich timbre of his voice but I crave that little word from him.
“Good morning, husband,” I say, moving over to him and kissing him on the cheek. I like how he hasn’t pressured me for anything further, but If I’m honest, I definitely want more. I’ve spent the last few days fantasizing about him taking me in various places throughout the house. The kitchen counter, the couch in the living room, the floor, the shower, our bed. I can’t get his strong hands out of my mind. In my fantasies, they are always doing the most amazing things to my body, things I thought were only true in smutty romance novels, like the ones my favorite author, PJ Bare, writes.
I shake my head of these thoughts and smile at the thought that we’ve done this everyday we’ve been together. He makes breakfast and then goes to work. I make dinner and we talk about our days. The difference today is that I’ll be riding into the office with him. He puts me at ease and that’s not something I’ve ever felt from a man not related to me. I wish I was a stronger woman. I wish I was ready to beg him for what I want. Him. All of him, but I’m not. One day, soon I hope, I’ll be ready for him. I can only pray he isn’t sick of waiting for me by then.
“Are you nervous?” he asks as I finish my coffee.
“No. Should I be?” I ask, smiling.
“No, I’ll be with you every step of the way.” The phrase should frighten me, but it doesn’t.
I finish my mouth watering pancakes and start clearing the table. The housekeeper is coming today, so I only need to stack the dishes in the sink. I gotta say, I don’t mind spot cleaning or doing laundry, but I hate doing deep cleans or vacuuming. Mrs. Helen makes things easy for me and easy is what I need right now.
The ride into the office is nice. I sing along with the Bruce Springsteen song playing on the radio and so does he. His smooth tenor voice washes over me yet again.
He reaches over to me and squeezes my hand.
“You have a lovely voice,” he says at the same time I say, “We sound great together.” I laugh. My first real laugh in months, maybe even years. He smiles at me and chuckles.
For the first time in a long time, I really believe that everything is going to be okay.
I owe that feeling to one man… my charming, sexy husband. Now, to get rid of my baggage…
Chapter Four
Fletcher
I have been returning patient calls and doing follow-ups on patient records, something I have done hundreds of times before and it has never bothered me. But now, knowing my wife is on the other side of that door, right now, gorgeous and glowing in her uniform, hair radiantly framed around her face in a messy bun as they call it, her smile warm and genuine for the patients, I am finding this part of my job tedious. Knock. Knock.