Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“Do we park in the garage to unload?” Scott asked.
“Yes. Pick me up and I’ll guide us to the service elevator,” Dash said. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“We’ll pick him up, and he’ll guide us into the garage to where the service elevators are,” I explained again, maybe for the fourth time. At the light, I could feel the tension in the truck. The only noise in the cab came from the blinker, ticking over and over again.
“Tell him I miss you,” Dash instructed, clearly not picking up what was happening inside this truck.
“I’m not saying that to him,” I said, watching Scott bust a move, turning left before oncoming traffic began to roll forward. The cars in those lanes started with their long honks and clearly given hand gestures showing what they thought of us. Dealing with this kind of traffic was going to be a lot to handle every day.
“I see you,” Dash said. I spotted him too. He was handsome in crisp blue jeans, white runners, and a blue jacket zipped to the collar. When we left Dallas, it was shorts and T-shirt weather. The temperature had dropped by thirty degrees on the way up.
“You see him, right?” I asked Scott. My gaze focused on Dash, raising his hand to make sure we saw him.
“’Course, I do. Do I pull up in front of him?” he asked.
“Yes,” Dash answered, walking a few steps into the street.
“Yeah,” I said, repeating Dash’s word. We barely had the gearshift in park, with Dash rounding the hood of the truck in my direction, before the phone call ended, and my door was yanked open. The cool air blew inside the cab as I was enveloped into his arms. His lips and face buried into the crook of my neck. I felt his love to my core.
“I missed you.” I circled my arm around his back while releasing the seatbelt holding me in with my other hand.
“How could you miss me? We’ve spent most of our free time on the phone together.” The words were intended to come off as playfully sarcastic, but with the way my arm stayed locked around his back, he had to know my truth. His palms came to my cheeks as I turned, putting a foot out the door. He didn’t let me out but stayed in my face as he drank me in.
“We don’t do this again. I like you being with me. Promise,” he said.
I leaned forward to kiss his lips and forced myself out of the cab. A loud honk came from behind that instantly grated on my last nerve. The agitation was quick and thorough. I believed Dallas had some bad road rage, but they seemed downright hospitable compared to these drivers.
“Come on, guys. We gotta move,” Scott said, lifting a hand high to flip the driver off through the back window.
“Get in the middle of the front seat,” I said, ushering Dash inside. I climbed in beside him. Based on the next honk, then the foul language shouted at us, I wasn’t moving fast enough for the driver’s liking. That last nerve snapped, halting my progress to sit beside Dash.
My guy grabbed my wrist before I could move a solid step in the other car’s direction. I’d teach that motherfucker how to be patient when necessary. Scott’s door opened, he began to leave the driver’s seat, ready to have my back.
“No, no. No fighting today,” Dash said loudly.
“We aren’t fightin’. We’re explainin’,” Scott said, but he stopped, waiting to see what I was going to do. The trip had been long and the drive into Chicago had been awful. Seconds passed. Dammit if Dash wasn’t right. We didn’t need all this tension in front of our new home.
“Lee, get in the truck,” I said, forcing myself to follow my own instruction, regardless of the way the guy tossed his hands in the air, brushing us off as a non-threat.
“Take the left into the parking garage and circle to the ninth floor. There’re freight elevators that go directly to our floor. It’ll be faster to use them,” Dash said. His joy erased my frustration. “Did you bring your jackets?”
“Yeah, but it was hard to believe we’d need them,” I said, threading our fingers together.
“I think we’re going to need an update in our wardrobe. We’ll have snow in the winter,” Dash said. He bent his head to my shoulder, lying there. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” I murmured. Luckily, Scott didn’t utter a word, probably still mad at all the horn-blowing and fuck-you hand gestures. That was okay. He’d take off back home early tomorrow morning.
“Park there.” Dash pointed to the empty space with Carter’s name on it.
“What kind of car is that?” Scott asked about the one parked next to the truck.