Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“They were.”
His back looks so strong. I watch him, unable to draw my eyes away. He’s definitely a magnet. A beautiful, damaged, tragic, hot-as-fuck magnet.
He’s also my client, so I need to get a grip.
He’s not that kind of client.
I can’t say enough times that the hot bedding arrangement isn’t sexual. It’s platonic. The contract we signed was just about the bed rental. It said nothing about us. Maybe what we’re doing right now isn’t even real. How would I know? My life is currently being dictated by what was written on ten pages of a document and signed by both of us at the end. It didn’t say anywhere that we agreed to exchange words of such emotional depth.
“Yeah, they were,” he continues. “I got so lucky, and none of it had anything to do with the money.” He lets out another raw-sounding exhale that is half sorrow and half anger. When he whips around, his eyes are so intense that I nearly fall off my hay bale. “I changed my mind.”
“About this?” Oh god, no. No, you can’t. He’d have to pay me out anyway. We have a signed contract, though I would never hold him to it. I’d never make him give me money for something he doesn’t want, but the thought of our time being so suddenly up makes me feel…agitated. I know it shouldn’t. This man just walked into my life unexpectedly. I’ve known him for all of a hot minute and a half here, so I’m being irrational and extra pathetic.
Okay, so maybe the hot bedding isn’t just about the money for me, either.
Maybe I’m lonely too.
Maybe hiding and not knowing how long you’re going to have to stay hidden and asking my parents and my sister—the only people who know where I am—not to contact me unless I reach out to them first in order to keep me safe, is really, really hard.
I notice the slightest softness in Beau’s hard face. Even that much is a surprise. I wouldn’t have said he was capable of it. Just that little inflection looks so good on him that my throat gets extra tight on top of the tightness already there because of his story and how his life has hurt him. I know what it’s like for life to kick the shit out of you. He might have come out on top, but I’m not sure how banged up his insides still are. I think he’s really good at hiding that in plain sight.
From one expert hider to another, that’s my not-so-professional opinion.
“About the cookies,” he corrects.
“Oh.” Right, I offered. And he refused. “Are you suddenly back on carbs and sugar?”
He doesn’t smile, but he does huff, and I think that’s about as close to a smile as anyone might ever get from this man. He better not smile at me full-on. Ever. I know for a fact that it would be so radiant and lovely that I’d have a cardiac arrest on the spot. Or my ovaries would. And finding out they have hearts, too, would just be a lot to take in.
“I want to watch you make cookies.”
Oh. That sounds…sexual. Exciting. Weird. Kinky. Strange. Hot. Amazing. He takes my hesitation and the way I turn my face down to hide how scarlet it is the wrong way.
“I’ll offer you an extra two thousand dollars to watch you make two different kinds of cookies. I’ll add it to an appendix in the contract.”
Our lives are now ordered by the stupid document. I have to remember that none of this is real. None of it. Not when he is so clearly ready to make everything about payment and paper.
“Alright.” I’d be silly not to accept. My pride has already taken an irrational and serious beating with the mention of the contract. Fair enough. I can play at not having feelings, either. Anyway, it’s a good way to spend some time. I’ll give him the cookies after, of course, even if he doesn’t eat them. Because technically, he bought them. “Whatever cookies you like, for two grand, I’ll sure as heck bake.”
Chapter four
Beau
Nighttime.
Great for vampires, people who like being awake in the dark, and closet/bed monsters. Not that I’ve ever met one of those before, but I imagine night is when they really shine. The night is great for other things. Astronomers, campfires, burglars. Some people prefer driving at night or traveling in general. Some people stay awake or work during the night because they are more productive when the rest of the world is asleep.
But the one thing that makes nighttime suck?
When you want to sleep, but you just. Fucking. Can’t.
I know Ignacia isn’t asleep.
I can tell by her breathing. She’s not trying to fake it. She hasn’t moved, either. She’s stayed perfectly still, lying on her back on her side of the bed. She hasn’t so much as twitched or sighed in three hours.