Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Legend? What are you doing here?” Monroe’s smile is welcoming, and her eyes soften when she sees what I’m holding.
“I missed you.” The words tumble out without thought. They're the absolute truth. I have to get a handle on this, but for now, I push it all down and stand to greet her. Leaning in, I place a soft kiss on her cheek. “I thought you might need an afternoon pick-me-up, and well, these made me think of you.” It’s not a line either. I stopped at the local florist and the blue color of the flower reminded me of her eyes. “Your eyes,” I clarify.
She takes the offered flowers and brings them in to smell them. “Thank you, Legend. That was sweet of you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I hate to rush, but I need to get back to work. I have a full schedule today.”
“Right. Of course. You’re off at seven, right?”
She nods in the middle of taking a sip of her drink. “Yes,” she finally replies.
“How about you come over to my place, and I’ll have dinner ready? You should see what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I’m in this, Legend.”
“Me, too, Mo.” My voice is soft and doesn’t sound like my own.
“I’d like that.”
“Any requests?”
“No seafood.” She wrinkles up her nose, and it’s fucking adorable.
“Got it. My girl hates seafood.” I tap my temple with my index finger, and she smiles. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Thank you.” She rises on her tiptoes and presses her lips to my cheek. “See you later.”
“See you.” I wave awkwardly. I stand still, watching, waiting for her to walk back behind the door and disappear out of sight. When I can no longer see her, I make my way back out to my truck.
I ignore the way my heart races just a little faster, knowing that I’ll get to see her again tonight. That’s not supposed to happen. She’s a friend, the one who’s doing me a huge solid. My family, both blood and my Everlasting Ink family, are going to benefit greatly from this arrangement. I know that, but I can’t stop thinking about how, for a while, no matter how short that time will be, Monroe is going to be mine.
CHAPTER
SIX
Monroe
I’ve been here a few times before. It’s always been with Emerson. However, it still feels like the first time as I pull into his driveway and put my car into Park. Taking a deep breath, I grab my phone and purse and push open the door. I’m barely at the front door when it’s pulled open and a smiling Legend greets me.
He’s wearing a black T-shirt that’s molded to his muscular frame, a pair of well-worn jeans, and he’s barefoot. Why is that so sexy? His full, kissable lips are tilted into a smile, all aimed at me. “There she is.”
“Hey.” I return his smile.
“I hope you’re hungry.” His ice-blue eyes rake over my body. I’m wearing my scrubs, having come straight from work, but the heat of his gaze makes me feel as though I’m in the skimpiest of outfits.
“Starving, actually. What are we having?”
“Nothing fancy. I grilled some chicken breasts and tossed a couple of baked potatoes on the grill as well.”
“Perfect.”
“Come on in. Make yourself at home.” He holds the door open for me, and I step past him, my shoulder brushing his chest. A spark ignites as we touch, but I pretend to ignore it and keep walking.
“It smells amazing. What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. I just need to grab everything off the grill. You’re right on time. Help yourself to whatever you can find to drink in the fridge. I’ll be right back.” He walks past me, pausing to give my arm a gentle squeeze as he does.
I follow him into the kitchen, grab us each a bottle of water from the fridge, and take a seat at the small dining room table. I allow my eyes to roam around the space. It’s small but surprisingly roomy.
“I marinated the chicken,” Legend says, stepping in from the patio doors. “Do you want any other sauces?”
“No, I should be good.”
He sets a serving platter with grilled chicken and potatoes in the center of the table. “Let me grab the butter, cheese, and bacon bits.” He rushes off to the fridge, and I decide to serve us both while he does.
“Thanks,” he says, placing everything on the table before grabbing his water and taking a long pull. He sets the half-empty bottle on the table and gives me a shy smile that does nothing to ease the tension in the air.
“How was your day, dear?” I smirk, and the nervousness that surrounds us fizzles as we both chuckle at my question.
“I had a client cancel, so I surprised my girl with her favorite drink and some flowers. How about you?”