Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
I make a few squealing protests, but he doesn’t care I’m pinching the end of a spool of white thread. He deposits me in the bed, untangles us, and winds the thread around his finger. When there’s no more, he admires his ring and it bumps under my chin as he tucks the covers around me. “Night, Leon.”
He slips into the sheets on my other side and turns off the reading lamp.
I wait for him to pounce on me, and when he doesn’t, I turn onto my side towards him. “Damon?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you be my fake boyfriend while Karl is in town?”
Chapter Twelve
Damon twists in the sheets to face me in the darkness of his room. He raises his hand between us and wiggles the one with the white-thread ring. “Can you wear one of these too and say we’re engaged?”
I roll my eyes. Always teasing. “And another snog?”
“Several in fact. But snogging is a boyfriend—fiancé perk, so there’s no need to specify that.”
“How is it I’m regretting this already?”
“Yeah, that’s why you’re grinning.”
“Turn around and go to sleep.”
Damon rolls onto my side of the bed until his back is smooshed to my front. He yawns. I push at his hip and he grabs my hand to steer it around his waist. “Good idea, babe.”
Unbelievable. I bite at the ends of his hair but otherwise give in. If I resist, Damon will only bring on the next crazy thing.
I’m surprised when I wake up and the entire night has passed without me falling out of bed. In fact, sometime in the night, Damon turned around and locked our legs together, one arm under mine, palm glued to my bicep. When I try to wriggle free, he pulls me back, mumbling “I’ve got you” like he’s my saviour.
“You’ve got work, Damon.”
He frowns and slowly opens his eyes.
“Work,” I remind him again.
He lurches out of bed and starts shoving his builder pants on. “Damn, I sleep well with you.” He glances at the bedside clock. “I’ll have to start setting an alarm.”
“Mum leaves today. No need.”
“Don’t fool yourself, babe. We’ll be sleeping together again tonight.”
I need to escape the warm fuzzies that come with those words . . . The last thing I want is to get used to the flirting and miss it once it’s gone.
I sidle towards the door, facing the wall to avoid the glorious view of rippling muscle and smooth skin and Damon with only half his pants on.
I make him a coffee to chug down, and he does so in three gulps. “What’s your day look like?”
“If you give me a key, I’ll start on measurements and grab some fabric samples in Foxton.”
Damon digs in his pocket for his keys and dangles them in front of my nose. A bit of white thread from around his finger dangles into the key ring. As I reach for the keys, he draws them teasingly away with a glint in his eye. “I’ve been thinking.”
I raise a brow.
“Ever since we got engaged”—I snort; he barely pauses before continuing—“I’ve felt that we should change our living situation.”
“You’d like to move out? Create some anticipation before the wedding?”
Damon laughs that off. “I’d like you to move in with me.”
What game is he playing? Does he think if I move in with him for the week before Karl shows up that I’ll give in and let him—“It’s amazing the lengths you’ll go to have sex with me.”
“True. But let’s remember, this fake engagement thing was your idea.”
“The fake boyfriend thing was my idea.”
“Potato, potato. We can invite Karl to dinner at our new place and he can see what a lovely home we’re making together. We’ll show him what real happiness looks like. Will you? Move in with me?”
I tap a finger on my chin. “I won’t have sex with you.”
“No sex. Unless you change your mind.”
That gleam of challenge in his eyes. He totally thinks I’ll change my mind. Well. New goal! “I suppose living at your place while I’m working on your curtains makes logistical sense.”
“Totally.”
“And I like your dinner idea. Though I have a suggestion.”
“Name it.”
“We babysit Tommy and he joins us too. We’ll look even more like a family.” Not to mention having a clear roadblock to any seductions Damon might try.
“I’m sure Troy will help us out.”
“Wait a sec. You only have one bed at your place.”
“Admitting you’ll be too tempted—”
“To have an ounce of your confidence! I can handle the bed if you can.”
He smirks, rattling his keys, and I nab them.
“What time will you be home tonight?”
Damon is home by six. He’s been building at the school and he’s had a hard day, I can tell at a glance. Dust and grime film his work gear, and he shifts his shoulders like they might be aching. He stops rolling them the moment he spots me at the sewing machine I’ve set up in his living room.