Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Henley peers up at me with her big blue eyes blinking when I ask, “Is this something you’ve always wanted to do?”
“Ah… not exactly.” Her honesty is refreshing. “It was more expected because of who my father was.”
Noting she said “was,” I try to be empathetic with my next question. “Your father was also a nanny?”
She screws up her face before barking out with a laugh, “What?” As quickly as her humor arrived, it vanishes. “No. He was… ah...” She switches the direction of our conversation. “Wiping smelly bottoms isn’t what I envisioned while studying fashion.” An expression I can’t quite work out crosses her face. “I was patenting my own unique flare and getting rave reviews across the industry, but then life happened, and I had to give it up.” She locks eyes with me. There’s only the slightest bit of shimmer to them when she confesses, “You settle for pretty much anything when bills start piling up.”
Mindful not everyone is raised with a silver spoon in their mouth like Caroline was, I ask, “Have you ever considered finishing your studies?”
Locks of snow-white hair swish past her cheeks when she shakes her head. “It’s not an option for me right now, but I never say never.”
I cough out a laugh. It is as foreign to me as having a conversation with anyone and it not being about work or Lucy. “I once lived by that motto.”
After playfully bumping me with her hip, Henley asks, “Not anymore?”
“Huh?” I ask, praying she isn’t offering me more pancakes.
With the island clean, she shifts her focus to the counters surrounding it. “Never say never. Why was that ‘once’ your motto?”
I take a moment to ponder before hitting her with the honesty she deserves. After last night’s antics, she could have made brunch awkward, but I felt more at home in my home than I have in years. “Lucy. She put a new perspective on everything.”
When Henley peers at me with more affection than I’m used to, I slant my head and glare at a greasy blob running down one of the overhead cabinets. “Is that what I think it is?”
She grimaces before switching her rumpled expression to a smile. “I was teaching Lucy how to juggle.” I grin when she looks at me apologetically. “I learned quick smart that one egg is her limit.” After soaking a washcloth, she slowly saunters to the other side of the kitchen, her hips swinging. “With how expensive eggs are, should I be hopeful or worried you bring your handcuffs home?”
She hits me with a flirty wink before balancing on her tippy-toes to mop up the mess.
Even extended to her full height, which I’d guess to be around five eight, she still can’t reach the blob of egg yolk splattered on the glossy wood, so it is only fitting that I step forward to help her.
“Here, let me.”
I blame the lack of sleep and my hangover for my stupidity. I don’t wait for Henley to move out of the way. I lean over her, and since the island hogs most of the space Caroline’s mother had refitted not long after I moved in, barely an inch of air floats between us when I crowd her into the overhead cabinets with my body.
“Definitely hopeful,” she murmurs when the front of my shorts brushes the skin high on her bare thighs.
I inwardly cuss when she flattens her feet to the floor. She barely drops an inch, but the slightest movement sees her ass grinding against my crotch—my rapidly extending crotch.
She smells good. Too fucking good, and it takes everything I have not to lean in for a big whiff like she did in the bathroom last night.
Fortunately for me, I don’t need to move to learn her shampoo is scented. Within a second of her ass pressing against my crotch, Henley braces her head on my chest and cranes her neck to look at me.
When I see the need in her eyes, I tell myself to walk away, to place distance between us now, but instead of doing what is morally right, I cage her to the counter by placing my hands on the cabinets beside her head and leaning in deeper.
I wondered for hours last night how easily her tight, compact body would fit mine. Now I know without a doubt that it’s a perfect fit.
You’d swear she was made for me.
Step back, asshole. Shut down this insanity.
My dick is as hard as a rock, and the endorphins thickening my veins are potent enough to disintegrate my smarts. Nothing but learning the taste of Henley’s lip gloss is on my mind, so my feet won’t budge no matter how loudly my morals yell.
I can’t kiss her. She’s too young for me and way too fucking sweet. I just don’t have the willpower to pull away from her, so I try to force her to do it.