Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 118780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
“We’ll make my next place all me.”
“No doubt we will, but I have a request for the next place. Can you get enough rooms to actually put a lab and workstation in the home? You working all hours of the night and driving home always had us worried.”
My eyes dart around the area that has been my secondary work environment for years. During my time with Craig, I stepped back from my research, thinking eventually I’d get back to it as our relationship progressed. Soon enough, he showed his true opinion about my profession, closing the door on my progress.
His success in finance always trumped my career as a cosmetologist. His arrogance grew to the point I didn’t feel comfortable sharing this part of my life. I abandoned it for way too long.
Such a fool!
“Uh-oh, I know this silence. You’re lamenting over past decisions.”
“Lamenting and regretting.”
“What have I told you about regret?”
“That it will give me wrinkles?”
She laughs softly. “That and it is a roadblock. And you are moving forward, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” I sigh, “I am.”
“Your dad and I will be there next weekend to help get the house ready to go on the market.”
“Y’all don’t have to do that.”
“I’ll be there anyway for Jewls’ shower. It will thrill your dad to drive me and hang with the other guys. Plus, he’s been wanting to talk to you further about the recent products.”
She’s so full of shit. This is code for my dad wants to lay eyes on me and then get his sights on Ford. Mom has been loose-lipped, sharing our daily conversations with him. There may be some truth to him wanting to talk to me about the products, but we message every day so he’s in the know. In each message, he finds a way to slip in a comment about my ‘seeing that fellow’.
“Not fooling me, Mom. If he comes, he better behave.”
“It’s a father’s right to spend time with your new boyfriend.”
My stomach twirls at the term. It seems juvenile to slap the title on a man like Ford, but how do I explain that?
“Spending time and interrogating are two different things. This is very new.”
“Honey, this has been in the pipeline for months.”
“Well, maybe it has, but let’s not treat Ford like a high school boy who’s playing the field.”
“He’s no boy.”
Every nerve ending in my system buzzes with electricity as the black truck pulls into the back parking lot. “I need to go. He’s here.”
“Have fun. Talk tomorrow.”
“Love you.” I disconnect and rush to the living area, checking myself in the mirror one last time.
Cruz and Alex returned from vacation today, which means I’m back at the studio full-time. Ford had an extra shift today for security, telling me he’d pick me up after he got off.
Plan for a quiet night at home. And pack a bag for tomorrow.
His last message to me sent a buzz of excitement and fear through me. There was no question whose home we’d be going to. But a quiet night could mean many things.
Will Major and Jewls be there? What about Tera?
Watch a movie? Sports? Play video games? Night swimming? Take the golf cart out? The possibilities for tomorrow are endless, which put me in a tizzy. I way over-packed, not sure what to expect.
The knock on the door jars me out of my head, and nerves kick back in as I answer. My heart lodges in my throat right before I’m off my feet and crushed against Ford’s hard body. His mouth closes over mine, his tongue diving inside. I whimper at the tangy taste of strawberry.
It’s only been ten hours, but he kisses me like we’ve been apart for days. His mouth moves greedily, his arms clenching tight.
I tear away, fighting for breath, and almost melt under the burning lust in his eyes.
“All fucking day, been waiting for this.”
“Missed you, too. Have you been stealing Twizzlers again?”
Something beautiful flashes on his face. “Ready to go?”
Here goes nothing. My nerves pick up.
I squirm out of his arms. “Actually, I wanted to show you around.”
“I’ve been here before.”
“Humor me.” I lead him to the back room and take a deep breath. This is a piece of me no one knows about.
He releases my hand, going straight to my workstation, his face blank as he inspects the bottles and jars of ingredients. A large vat of Moroccan clay gets his attention next. Little by little, he makes his way down the table, stopping at my computer.
His intense examination of the notes laid to the side set my anxiety spiking.
“This is what you work on at night?”
“Yes, I’m sort of… a little bit of a chemist.”
He jerks so fast his neck cracks. “How sort of, kind of, a little bit?”
“My degree from Vanderbilt is in Chemistry with a minor in Botanical Science.”