Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 136421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 682(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 682(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
“Sorry to hear that.” He avoids my gaze like he’s trying to hold back laughter.
I’m aware that I can be a bit much for some people. Blunt, outgoing, feisty when I need to be—but I think he’s more amused by me than anything.
“Alright, well I better go if I’m gonna make coffee before I leave.”
He gives me a nod, then turns toward the bathroom. My eyes lower to his ass. Or rather his dump truck of a booty. His chest and stomach are lean, but his back muscles, arms, and everything lower provide a very pleasant view. I wouldn’t mind nibbling on every inch of him.
With that thought, Archer looks over his shoulder and catches me staring. I quickly snap my eyes to his with an innocent expression. Without saying a word, I turn on my heels and go to the kitchen to fill my tumbler.
Just as I’m throwing my oversized purse in my car, I notice a sleek black Escalade parked outside my house. My neighbors drive minivans or big-ass Ford trucks—so it stands out like a sore thumb. But if I had to guess, Carley, the single mom across the street, must’ve let her Tinder date stay overnight. Not that she’s said as much, but it’s one of the rumors floating around. One of the many benefits of owning a boutique is always hearing the latest small-town gossip from the customers.
I drive the short distance downtown, park, then grab my stuff. As soon as I unlock the doors, I flick on the lights and smile. This store is my happy place, and outside of my home, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
“Good mornin’,” Lexie sing-songs as she prances in thirty minutes later. She’s one of my managers, but we’ve become close friends too.
“Morning!” I reply cheerfully from the front display I’m organizing. “How’s it goin’?”
“Just fine, I suppose. Brett’s mama asked if I could make a pecan pie for Thanksgiving, so I’m stressin’ about that.”
“Why? Just go to the bakery and pick one up,” I suggest with a laugh.
“No way. She’d know I didn’t bake it and give me one of her signature I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed looks. Then she’d make some offhand comment to Brett about how it’s too bad he didn’t marry a woman who’s skilled in the bedroom and kitchen.”
“She’d say that?”
“Oh, that’d be on the list of nice things she’d say about me.” She huffs, then grabs our daily task list.
“Wow. So glad I don’t have to put up with a villain mother-in-law. But I like to think I’d win her over with my sailor’s mouth and Southern charm.”
“You better pray yours isn’t the devil dressed in a pantsuit.”
At that, I snort. “Not sure I’ll ever be gettin’ married, so I won’t have to worry about that.”
“Why do you say that? Thought you’d already be engaged to your roommate by the way you’ve been talkin’ about him the past few weeks.”
I bark out a laugh because she’s right. Since Gemma mentioned him moving in with me, I’ve randomly brought him up in passing. I wasn’t sure what he looked like, but when we finally met a few days ago, he surpassed every expectation I had.
“He’s been quiet. We’ve only talked a little, though when I ran into him before work, I’m certain he caught me checking out his ass. Per usual, I made things weird with inappropriate gawking and stupid words.”
“Most guys like that about you,” she retorts with a smirk.
“No, they like my long hair and lean legs,” I correct with a shrug.
“It’s been less than a week, right? He’ll come around and realize you’re funny as hell.”
“Then he won’t be able to stay away…” I mock, waggling my brows. “I’ll break him out of his shell in no time.”
“Didn’t you say your brother invoked a hands-off policy?” she asks.
“He thinks he’s the boss of me, but he’s not.”
“Careful, Ev. Archer was locked up for five years. He probably needs to figure out a lot of stuff before he can consider a relationship.”
“Geez, you sound just like Tyler now. And who said anything about a relationship?”
“Oh, so just fuck buddies? Friends with benefits?” she prompts.
“Roommates with benefits,” I counter with a chuckle.
“Not sure if I should warn Archer or rat you out to Tyler first,” she taunts.
“Better not. I sign your paychecks.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles but grins.
“I’m taking him to Thanksgiving tomorrow. We’re all going to Gemma and Noah’s father’s house. Belinda’s cooking, so it’ll be a good opportunity for him to hang out and lower his guard.”
With those words, the door chimes, and our first customer of the day enters. Between helping people, decorating, and getting all the Black Friday signs hung, the day stays busy.
When I leave, it’s almost dark. As I pull onto the main road toward the grocery store, I see the same black Escalade parked outside the boutique. It’s probably someone’s family visiting for the holidays and spending the evening shopping downtown.