Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
I wince as I shift my weight, making one of the ancient floorboards groan under me, almost giving me away.
I hear him make a low sound in his throat, and from where I’m standing, even though my knees feel like they’re knocking I can clearly make out the little curl at the edge of his lip.
A satisfied look to match his low growl before he resumes his conversation with Mark about his suit.
His dark eyes shine under his brows. His thick, dark hair has a hint of silver at the sides that gives him a commanding aura.
He’s seen plenty of sun too by the looks, but his skin is smooth with just a hint of stubble dotting his chiseled jawline that flexes as his brow cocks with renewed interest.
Although he’s talking to Mark, I can tell his senses are working overtime. Like an alpha wolf scenting its first meal in weeks.
Or maybe even a mate.
My whole body is shivering by now, my teeth almost chattering with the excitement, the thrill of just watching him.
Safe because I know he can’t see me.
I wonder if I could sneak a better peek at that body when he’s changing.
No. That’s golden rule number one. No peeking when people are changing unless they ask for help.
I can see plenty of him from where I am now anyway, and shifting my gaze from his brooding, intensely dark eyes I shift my attention to the man’s behind.
Damn. If he isn’t the reason work pants were invented, I don’t know what is.
Mark’s looking at the clock, and I can see him glancing around the store for me before he starts to re-take some measurements.
He excuses himself from measuring my mystery man’s inner leg after a moment and comes over to my side of the store, quietly calling for me.
“Ash? Wha-What are you doing in there?” he exclaims, smiling at me and then giving me a sidelong glance.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look like I’ve just run laps around the block. My face is flushed and my nipples are so stiff even I can clearly see them pebbled through my white t-shirt and bra.
Mark’s more concerned about closing the store though. Fortunately for me, I’m more like a wallflower than an actual person most of the time so he doesn’t find my attitude too strange.
“Could you close up? I’ve just gotta do some more fitting for a client,” he explains before he asks if I’m alright.
“Fine,” I squeak, feeling my legs pressing together as I stifle the urge to gasp aloud and shove my hand down the front of my now drenched panties.
Can’t Mark feel it? Can’t the whole world see?
I can smell the man, whoever he is from here. His heady, woodsy scent is thick in the air and his powerful pose even at rest, those eyes… That broad chest.
Oh boy. I need to get some air.
“Ash?” Mark asks again before he turns back to my man, who’s cleared his throat causing Mark to move out of the way. I can see now he’s been taking a good look at me this whole time.
His eyes narrowed some, but his lip curled with satisfaction again as I clumsily try to act natural.
My eyes gravitate to his bulging crotch.
Holy freaking cannoli… is that what I think it is?
Accidentally knocking over a mannequin as I make my way to the door, my trembling hands locking it, and flip the sign to ‘closed’.
Me?
I’m wide open for business if it’s anything to do with this guy and what he’s packing.
Even though it’s closing time, I figure I can find a hundred things to do to keep me in the store while he’s here.
Something like this doesn’t happen every day, and there’s no way I’m walking away from this.
Chapter Two
Brandon
“You’ll still be able to make it though. To the rehearsal?” Brett asks me, my mind a million miles away from his wedding plans as I look over a sheaf of building plans on my desk.
“Uh. Sure,” I murmur absently, wondering to myself just how I’m gonna manage without my number one foreman for two weeks once he ties the knot.
“The suit?” he urges me, scratching his lower lip with his teeth, not wanting to press me about anything unrelated to our work right now, but he’s my oldest buddy.
My best friend.
I push the construction plans to one side and park myself on the edge of my desk, smiling at him and shaking my head.
“Sorry, buddy. Miles away. Yeah, I got another fitting for the suit lined up so don’t panic. Nothing in my size off the rack yesterday, so they’re making all the adjustments.”
I note his still worried look.
The look of a guy who’s soon to be married for the first time and probably just in time at our age.