Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
A quick scroll through revealed her mother was furious that she’d embarrassed the family by leaving, her grandmother urged her to check in, and Preston informed her she’d had her fun and it was time to come home and face up to her responsibilities. Asshole.
She left her phone on the dresser with her purse and walked into the hall, finding a bathroom across from the room where she’d slept. Once she was inside and locked the door, she saw he’d left her a toothbrush, toothpaste, and towels on the counter, along with what looked like one of his t-shirts.
She blew out a long breath, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky to find a good guy in her drunken state. The bathroom was basic. The toilet was a standard and the sink white porcelain with a small two-door wood vanity. She turned on the shower water, adjusted the temperature, undressed and stepped under the warm spray. There was soap along with generic bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and she gratefully used them all. A little while later, she stepped out of the bathroom feeling clean and refreshed and wearing a soft tee-shirt that fell to her knees, and yesterday’s underwear she’d turned inside out. She stopped in her room to take a hair tie out of her bag and pull her long hair into a messy bun on top of her head.
She glanced in the mirror. Her cheeks were pink from drinking and her eyes a little glassy but without access to makeup, there wasn’t much more she could do. Last night, she’d made a fool of herself, and she had to face the bartender and see whether he was as good looking as she remembered. Or if she’d been viewing him through a drunken lens.
The house didn’t appear to be big and it was definitely under renovation. As she made her way to the kitchen, she noticed the walls in the large family room had been primed but only one was painted and there was furniture, a mahogany-colored leather sofa and matching club chair and a large steamer-trunk as a cocktail table. No knickknacks, nothing giving the place a homey feel. She walked toward what she assumed was the kitchen, glancing out the sliding glass doors as she passed. The patio was also being worked on, the dirt outside having been dug up and most of the old bluestone removed except for a few square stones providing a walking path to the sandy area behind it.
She stopped in the kitchen entry, taking in the obviously new, stainless-steel appliances, a swirled mix of gray, white, and black granite countertops, and a weathered wood tile on the floor in a steel gray. It was masculine and very much like the man she remembered meeting last night.
Speaking of her host, he stood in front of the sink, looking out a window. With no shirt, a pair of black track pants rode low on his hips. Defined muscles were visible in his upper back, tapering down to a lean waist. From behind, he was an extremely hot man and she swallowed hard, and wrong, and began to cough and choke on her own saliva.
He turned at the sound, his gaze landing on her. She blinked and tears dripped down her face as she struggled to catch her breath while taking in the hotness before her. No drunken goggles for her. The man was the perfect male specimen, his dark hair tousled from sleep, his brown eyes warm, and his tanned body a picture of muscled goodness with a tattoo on one shoulder.
His eyes softened in concern. “You okay?”
She nodded and swiped at the wetness on her cheeks. “Swallowed wrong.”
Once she stopped coughing, his gaze drifted from her face, traveling down her body. She might not have a ton of experience but his eyes definitely heated and she glanced down to find her nipples poking through her thin cotton tee. His T-shirt. Embarrassed, she folded her arms across her chest and he immediately turned away.
He took a few steps to the fridge, pulled out a carton, grabbed a glass from a cabinet and poured orange juice into the cup. “Here.”
Grateful, she accepted the drink and took a long sip, keeping her body angled away from him. She drank, waiting to be sure she wouldn’t choke again before answering. “Thank you. And thanks for…bringing me back here, leaving me water and something for my head. Just…everything.”
“Wasn’t like you gave me a choice,” he said in a wry tone and her cheeks heated with more embarrassment.
She hadn’t given him her parents’ address but she couldn’t say she was sorry. “Well, I appreciate it.”
He studied her intently, as if trying to figure her out. She was aware of him now firmly keeping his eyes on her face and she relaxed. If he found her attractive, she definitely returned the sentiment but she’d rather have more coverage while talking to him.