Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Two out of three isn’t bad.” He just says it, tossing that praise into the universe like there’s no tomorrow. I catch it, metaphorically tucking it into my pocket so I can mentally frame it later in my mind.
“That was quite charming.”
A rogue smile punctures the dimples in his cheeks, making him even more attractive. “It’s true.” And now I’m blushing . . .
“I want you to stay, Poppy.”
I fidget with a barstool, swiveling it with my fingertips as a distraction to how insanely attractive I find this man, especially right now. “Technically, I already quit.” I toss out my only defense when I can’t think of any good reason to leave. Not because I want to leave but because I like hearing that he wants me to stay.
“I never got it in writing.” It’s the little things with him, like the cocksure lift of the eyebrow on the right side of his perfectly annoying face, that gets me. He comes around to the other side of the island from me, trying for innocence, but I recognize the bad boy has returned, and by how determined he looks with his sternly furrowed brow, he’s on a mission.
Slipping onto the stool, I sit straight, ready for the negotiation he’s about to go into and steeple my fingers.
He’s a behemoth of a man, eye level with me even when he’s bent down. “Since you’re stuck here anyway, you might as well get paid.”
“Good point. I’ll think about it.”
Pushing off the counter, he reaches his full height, making me work harder to stare into his gorgeous eyes. I’d stand, but this conversation doesn’t feel quite over, so I stay put. When he moves to the fridge, he says, “I blame myself for us getting off on the wrong foot.”
“We didn’t get off or on.” Watching his tongue drag over his bottom lip, I briefly get distracted. When his breathing deepens as he stares at me, I keep talking but avert my eyes. I’ve never had a boss who looked like him.
“I wasn’t expecting you. Not that it’s an excuse for how I reacted—”
“It’s okay. We were both startled. I get it.” I hop off the barstool, hoping to head him off from opening the fridge. It’s my job to make sure this man eats, even if I did kind of, sort of quit. I’m here, so cooking for him is the least I can do. “Though that knife.” I use my finger to graze across my neck. “That was a close call.”
“I apologize for that as well.”
I laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Anyway, these sorries are making me uncomfortable.” Grabbing the fridge handle, I add, “It’s normal to part ways if it’s not a good fit. I made one dish. It didn’t work out, so we called it quits. No harm, no foul.”
He’s staring at me like I’ve gone off the rails, so I add, “Get it? Foul. Fowl?” I roll my eyes because I thought that was hilarious. Him, not so much. “Guess you’re not into chicken jokes.”
“You have an odd sense of humor, you know that? Bear snark yesterday. Chicken humor today. I can’t wait to see what animal we’re roasting tomorrow.”
With jazz hands on full display, I reply, “Spoiler alert: it’s pork.” His smile splits his cheeks. Thank God I didn’t blow it on the pork.
“That was actually impressive. I didn’t know I was getting dinner and a show.”
“Now that’s funny.” I tug the door open. “I’m going to have to use that in the future.”
“The future? Already making plans on how to get out of here? Tomorrow is it for us?”
I nudge him with my socked foot. “I was planning my escape last night, but you’re doing a good job of tempting me.”
“You were?” he asks, hovering in my vicinity. I only just turn my head to catch a brief glimpse of him through the corners of my eyes before turning my attention to the veggies in the fridge. “How far did you get in your planning?”
“Not very since you’re doubling my pay.” I wait with a grin I won’t be able to restrain more than a few seconds.
Three.
Two.
“What was that about your pay?”
With grapes in my hand, I casually turn to put them on the counter. “You wanted me to stay earlier, so I accept since you’ve doubled my pay, effectively putting your money where your mouth is. But I also have a condition.” Bobbing my head, I laugh. “Other than amnesia.”
“And when did I supposedly do this?” Scratching the back of his neck, he clenches his jaw. It’s a habit of his that I’m not upset at all about.
My full attention deviates to the two lines between his brows when he clears his throat, though. How does he manage to make confusion look sexy? And is it weird to want to lick that spot until it’s relaxed again? Probably.