One Tasty Pucking Meet Cute (Frosty Harbor #1) Read Online Penelope Bloom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Drama, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Frosty Harbor Series by Penelope Bloom
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
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But I can’t run from her. She’s made that much clear. Andi Summers will track me down, pursue me, and catch me with a blushing smile that threatens to undo every carefully laid plan I have.

If you can’t run from something, you face it.

So I take a deep breath and head inside the cabin.

13

JESSE

I don’t know why–probably my brief but memorable past experience–but I almost expected to find Andi in some compromising, accidentally sexy position when I opened the front door of the cabin. I thought maybe she’d be bent over–stuck in the washing machine with her ass out–asking if I could help her get out, or in the middle of changing in the living room. Honestly, neither possibility would be completely out of character given what the woman has already put me through.

Instead, I see her curled up on the couch with her hands under her cheek and her eyes closed. She’s trying to take a nap?

“Oh,” I say when she looks up at me as I come in. “You might want to do that in the guest house. The guys are due back from practice any time now. I mean, if they got lunch you may have an hour or two.”

“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s cozy here.”

I hesitate, then take a look at her laying there on the couch. I remember how it felt to have my hands on her shoulders and how cold her sweater was. For some reason, Andi Summers brings out every protective instinct I have. Is she a grown ass woman who could probably track down a blanket if she’s cold? Yes. Do I still feel like I need to personally monitor her body temperature and comfort levels to be safe? Also yes.

“Here,” I say. I go to the blanket box under the TV and fish out the biggest, warmest one we have. Then I think about it and grab the whole pile. I walk over to her and when she makes no move to grab the blankets from me, I drop them and lay the first over her body. “Want more?” I ask.

“More blankets, or more of you pampering me?” she asks. “Because both are really nice.”

I have to turn my back to her because the way I feel when our eyes meet right now is entirely not something I can deal with. I pretend I was about to start a fire, partly because it lets me keep my eyes off her and put my back to her. “If you’re still cold, this might help.”

“Okay,” she says, stifling a yawn. “You really are good to me, Jesse Prince. Keep this up and I’m not going to want to move out of your guest house. I’ll just find a way to convince you to let me stay forever. We can be platonic roommates since I’m not your type. Jake won’t even be able to complain about that.”

I open my mouth and try to think of some clever but not completely asshole response to that–something to make her understand that would definitely be a bad idea. It’s almost a minute before I finally get the fire going and I still haven’t thought of anything to say. I stand up, still focused on the fire. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier, Andi.” I can’t bring myself to look at her, so I keep talking to the fire in a low voice. “I didn’t mean to be harsh when I said you weren’t my type. I just wanted Jake to relax and stop worrying. What I mean is I was talking out of my ass–just saying what I thought he wanted to hear. Honestly, if I was looking to date, which I’m not, you’re exactly my type. I’m just not–” I turn and realize her eyes are closed and she’s breathing heavily.

The blanket is pulled up to her chin and her legs are tucked in tight so she’s barely taking up any space at all on the couch. She looks so small I know I could scoop her up in my arms without any effort and carry her to the bed in the guest house if I wanted. Part of me does, if for no other reason than I want the sight of her like this to be for me and me alone. I don’t want to share it with the other guys when they come back.

I unclench my fists and let out a long breath, though. She’s asleep and didn’t hear a word of what I said. It’s probably better that way.

I pull one more blanket from the pile in front of her, drape it over her sleeping form, and flop down on the opposite couch. I know it’s not as if she’s in danger here, but it feels wrong to just leave her by herself while she’s in such a vulnerable position.



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