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 get up and stretch, hearing my whole spine crack back into place.
I really do feel like a new person. I’ve never slept so soundly in years. And my aching back? Cured.
But where’s Ashlee?
Ducking my head in her tiny bathroom, she’s not there.
Forgetting everything else, including my clothes, I ignore the strangeness of my surroundings and go to look for her.
Once I pass through her door off its hinges, I remind myself to grab my tools from my truck and fix that before her boss sees it.
But as soon as I have the thought it’s like I can hear the man.
It is him, he’s downstairs talking to Ashlee, who looks like she’s madly trying to get rid of him, practically pushing him out the front door.
I realize it’s not a good look for her, or me if I’m walking around in my birthday suit, so I go back to her room and unravel my clothes, putting them back on before heading back out.
By the time I get downstairs, her boss is gone and she’s relieved to see me wearing some clothes.
“We’re open now, so maybe keeping clothes on is a good idea?” She grins, and I shrug in agreement.
“We can work on your suit this morning if you’d like,” she chimes, adding that I might want to take a shower first.
“It’ll be a tight squeeze,” I murmur, hooking an arm around her and pulling her to me.
More interested in taking her back upstairs than worrying about clothes or showers at the moment.
Thinking things over for a moment, I’d honestly rather take her home than spend another night on the floor or the rest of today in a bridal store.
I tell her as much, leaning down to nibble on her neck, growling into her ear that she needs to come home with me.
Now.
Sensing my mood, Ashlee explains she’ll be all mine after about two o’clock when a client comes to collect the gowns that Mark’s taken to the dry cleaners.
I make a low moan of approval, feeling hungry for more than just her sweet little body again.
“I didn’t eat enough last night and I’m feeling it now,” I tell her. Suggesting we order in some breakfast for us both.
“I think you had plenty to eat last night,” she teases me with a knowing grin, standing on her tippy toes long enough for me to snatch a kiss from her lips.
It makes me feel full but in a different way.
I could get used to this.
I’m already used to this, and I’m totally obsessed with spending every moment from now on enjoying this feeling with Ashlee.
Us.
“I’d kill for a real coffee,” she replies, thinking along the same lines I am, regarding breakfast anyway.
It’s a big leap for her, I know. Going from a solo lifestyle, living in a store where she works.
But I’m serious about wanting her away from this. She’s worth a million of these stores and the people who run them. I can see so much ahead for her if she’d only take that first step away from the edge.
She tells me there’s a great coffee place a few doors down, busying herself with what I can tell is her morning work routine.
I don’t want to leave her, not even for a minute, but she gives me a look that says a lot more than ‘I’ll be fine’.
“It’s like four buildings away,” she says, making a face, almost shooing me out the door so she can do what she does best, run someone else’s business.
Hmm. Might be time for Brenda to drop a line anyway, make sure she’s good to go, and start work on that wedding gown…
Ashlee’s right. The coffee place is only a few doors down and on the other side of the street, affording me a good view of her store and her shapely silhouette moving around inside.
I order us both coffee and pick a selection of bagels and muffins, letting them know I trust their judgment when it comes to choices.
I need food in my belly and my woman by my side. Then I’ll be ready to face the day.
While I wait, I send her another message as ‘Brenda,’ the wedding dress client. Only asking I hope she got my message and double hoping she’ll accept my order.
She pings back almost straight away. Sounding very professional, she tells Brenda she’ll send over some designs beginning next week.
I feel a bit guilty playing it out like this, but I only want to help Ashlee. Boost her confidence a little.
Plus, that dress, when it’s made, is gonna be put to good use one day soon. I can just feel it in my bones.
I almost check my messages out of habit, but I stop myself.
I’ve worked my ass off for over twenty years, every single day. Chasing this up and following that.