Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
He met my eyes. When he spoke, his voice was softer. “Not sure I’d mind if this asshole kept me up all night, to be honest.”
Tension sparked between us as I wondered if it was possible he was implying what I thought he was implying.
Me? Me?
“You…” I began. “Me… I… Wait. You think I’m an asshole?”
Lane opened his mouth to respond, but I quickly cut in. “Don’t answer that. Stupid question. What person brings up a chainsaw massacre right before bedtime? An asshole, that’s who. I didn’t mean to make things weird. I just—” I stopped and ran my fingers through my hair. “Hell, I just—”
I didn’t know what I just.
“Jay. Pretty sure I’m the asshole if you think I’d rather get my beauty sleep than help defend you from homicidal maniacs.”
“I didn’t say you’d rather. I said you should,” I corrected.
Lane stepped closer and held out a hand to me. I took it to help keep him steady while he climbed over the baby gates. The feel of his strong hand in mine made the little hairs on my arm prickle. “Doesn’t neighborliness go both ways?” he asked. “Isn’t it okay for you to expect people to give you the same consideration you give them?”
Once he was standing on my side of the gates, I couldn’t bring myself to let go of his hand. “The peacock,” I blurted, remembering we were here for a reason.
I noticed Lane didn’t seem all that ready to let go of my hand either. “Your cock is fine,” he said with a wink. “I think Dave’s just out of sorts from being moved around. It happens. It could just mean that he’s curious or that he’s trying to display dominance. Peacocks need exercise and entertainment, which means we need to get them a roost and maybe some other things to occupy them. But it doesn’t have to be tonight.”
Lane’s thumb slid over the back of my hand. “Oh,” I breathed. “Good. Uh… thanks for taking a look. I was worried something was wrong with him.”
The air crackled around us, broken periodically by the insistent cries of the peacock flaunting his wares behind the handsome veterinarian.
Lane continued, the curve of his lips almost flirty, if such a thing was possible. “Or maybe he just likes to show off for you. Maybe you were right earlier when you said his mating senses were going haywire. Sometimes a peacock wants what it wants.” He grinned. “Even when it’s not in mating season.”
My stomach tumbled. I couldn’t take my eyes off his lips. “I do like a man with plumage,” I murmured.
He shifted and reached up to touch my chin, tilting my head back so my gaze naturally moved up from his lips to his eyes. “I don’t think you’re an asshole. The furthest thing from it, Jay. I was just making a bad joke earlier. I’m sorry.”
I sucked in a breath. “No apologies necessary. I can definitely be an asshole sometimes.”
Lane’s eyes flicked back and forth as if studying me. “You brought me soup when I was sick. Not an asshole move.”
I swallowed. His nearness was making me dizzy. “Just a neighborly thing to do.”
“You rehabilitated my reputation in town when I came off as grumpy and harried in the beginning. Not an asshole move.”
I shrugged. “I could tell you were out of sorts. People only needed a chance to see the real you.”
His hand moved from my chin to caress my cheek with the back of his fingers. “Jaybird. You chiseled ice off my car this morning and offered to put winter air in my tires. You’re not an asshole.”
I leaned into his touch and tried not to preen like the bird still flaunting behind him. “Sometimes it seems like you don’t like me all that much. I worry maybe you—”
Lane lurched forward and pressed his lips against mine, shocking me enough to grunt in surprise. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so shocked—he’d had his hand on my face, after all—but I was. My brain couldn’t quite grasp how a beautiful, smart, successful man like Lane Desmond could want someone like me.
But—and this bore repeating—while I wasn’t as smart as Lane, I definitely wasn’t stupid. I kissed that man back for all I was worth.
My hands came around to press against his back, holding him close while my lips learned the shape of him. His mouth tasted like Italian Gentleman pasta—the food I had cooked for him—and that knowledge, combined with Lane’s own sweetness, made the zesty Italian flavors extra delicious.
Lane’s hands continued to cup my face as I pressed even closer, shifting my hardening cock against the bulge in the front of his soft pants. I silently cursed my thick jeans for keeping me from feeling more of him.
After a moment, my hands moved from his back down to his ass, and I cupped his cheeks with my hands. Lane pulled back enough to groan a curse. But instead of kissing me again, he pressed his forehead to mine.