Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Can I help you?” Skye asked, snapping Ducky’s attention to her as she rose from one of the three desks in the office. She looked confused, laying the landline phone in its cradle. Their gazes connected and held.
“I’m Ducky. Duncan Reeves. I work here,” he said, tapping his chest as he stepped further inside the office to let the receptionist follow him in. Did Greer set this greeting up as some sort of prank? He looked down the length of his body. Today was the first day he chose to wear something new, a pair of fitted jeans and a tight vintage Slash T-shirt, the only purchase he’d been allowed to make when adding to his new wardrobe.
His gaze shifted from Skye to the receptionist then back to Skye. Neither looked as if they understood the basic English coming out of his mouth. If they teased him, they were damn good. Like award-winning actresses.
Then a moment of clarity happened.
Skye’s eyes widened with recognition. “Omigod, Ducky. What did you do to your hair?” she asked, coming around her desk, her facial features going through a rapid transformation of astonished expressions.
“Laura called it an undercut with um…” Heat flooded his cheeks. Why did he feel like he’d been put on the spot? He hadn’t been prepared to answer questions about his new look. Talking about himself didn’t come naturally. He always preferred blending into the background. Skye’s fascination caught him absolutely off guard.
Ducky also wished he’d paid better attention to Laura so he sounded a little more knowledgeable. “I can’t remember what she called the blow dry part. It was some kind of tropical blow out.” He lifted his hand to his hair but stopped just short of touching the styled strands. Maybe that wasn’t actually Skye’s question. He wasn’t any good at picking up people’s emotional cues—another area he was trying to work on.
The moment grew more awkward by the minute. He should probably explain. Silence made him nervous. He felt as weird as the look on both of their faces. He shifted his weight, trying to distract himself from the fact that, by cutting his hair, he’d lost the only barrier that hid him from the world.
Maybe he should’ve gone home, gotten a better grip on this new look before coming to work. Either way, he couldn’t stop the over explanation tumbling from his lips. “I wanted that big poof in the front look, but my hair’s too curly. It’d take too much time to fix. I’ll need to do that in baby steps. I figured it’d be hard since I haven’t had to do my hair before…”
“Ducky.” Thank God Skye interrupted him as he took a step back, his ass hitting the edge of Dallas’s desk. He would have kept talking forever if she hadn’t stopped him.
“Look at me.” Skye placed both her palms on his cheeks to turn his face in her direction. A move he’d normally shy away from. He didn’t really like people touching him, but Skye was family, at least in this modern-day friends to family world. “You’re so handsome. This is the perfect style for your face. I don’t think I’ve ever truly seen you before. Your jaw’s so strong. You look like Dallas.”
Her fingers traced the length of his jaw as her grin grew wider.
Heat flooded his cheeks again as he moved his face out of her hands. The sound of footsteps heading in the direction of the office made him instantly step back to put space between him and their employees spilling into the small room.
“It’s not that big a deal. Y’all know Greer doesn’t do anything halfway.” The way he responded to Skye’s compliment sounded lame even to him.
“This is a huge deal,” Sara, who handled their marketing and public relations, said, plowing her way through the gathering crowd of stunned employees.
Privacy was an issue inside the crowded office space, but he hadn’t realized that literally everyone in these front offices could hear every word spoken.
“You look great.” She moved to the side of his desk, her gaze scanning the length of his body. “The clothes, the hair. You lost the half-growing beard. You’re our next promotion. I can see the ads now. You go present at the game award show. Show yourself off, then we’ll immediately follow with a nationwide ad campaign with your transformation. People have got to see what StreamTrainer can do for them. You’re the company’s owner. This is brilliant. How does your body really look? I can see the muscle definition through the T-shirt, but is it as defined as Dallas’s? Can you teach some classes?”
Oh, dear God, no. Sara needed to stop talking that nonsense. She boldly leaned forward to lift the hem of his T-shirt. He pushed back to move away from the touch. How had they completely forgotten how he didn’t like interacting with people? Nothing had changed.