Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“They can be hacked?” A dumb question even to my own ears once I say it out loud. Anything can be hacked if someone wants in badly enough. I follow Parker through the house—white walls, a wall here or there that showcases the brick that’s on the outside of his house, light wood hardwood flows beneath our feet, making me feel guilty for wearing shoes in his house.
“Yeah, I’d have had yours replaced if you didn’t have the slider bar, which isn’t much, but it’ll do something in a time of need. That needs to be in place, Vanessa, all the damn time.” He places the bags on the marble-countered island, the waterfall edge making a statement, along with the stainless-steel appliances.
“Hmmm, is that what it’s for?” I joke. I usually always have it locked when I’m home alone, but I was so out of it after the charity event that I barely made it to the shower then to bed. “How are you as energetic as you are? Lifting my head took it out of me.” I swear some people have it so much easier.
“I took medicine when I woke up. It’s wearing off now. My symptoms are mild compared to yours. Still feel like shit, though.” I take over what he was doing, diving into the bag with the medicine, doing exactly what he did for me only yesterday morning. It takes me longer. Parker looks like the need to take over is killing him slowly, but it’s out of the package, and I’m opening the ice-cold lemon-lime can of soda. Yes, it’s the middle of the day, but traffic was light, and I packed an icepack to keep everything from spoiling, just in case.
“Toast or soup?” I ask next after he swallows the pills, making it look sexy as he’s doing it.
“Nothing. You, me, and the bed. All I want to do is sleep. Maybe after a nap, I’ll have an appetite.” The husk in his voice is not due to tiredness; it’s lust, desire, and he yet again has my body tied in knots, on the edge of a cliff, waiting to see what’s going to happen next. “Key for you.” He holds out the silver metal after rummaging in his drawer for less than a second. Can the man be any more perfect? I bet he doesn’t even have a junk drawer with how fast he was able to locate it.
“I’d give you a key, but well, you have the code, so I guess we’re even,” I tell him. Parker has a chef’s kitchen, and given the opportunity to bake or cook, I’d take full advantage. I place my oversized purse I’m still carrying on a barstool. There’s no need to unpack it right away. I’m wearing leggings and an oversized shirt that has long sleeves. Though if Parker wants me in bed, I’ll definitely be looting his clothes for something different. He puts enough heat out to keep a whole room warm.
“We are.” I quickly put away the cold stuff. Everything else can wait. Parker watches the entire time, waiting until I’m finally done, then clasps my hand with his and leads us out of the kitchen, through the living room. I’m barely able to take in the rest of his place, making a memo to do that as soon as Parker isn’t sick and ready to collapse.
“Parker, I can’t keep up.” For every two steps of mine match one of his. People with long legs suck. They can see over the wheel of a car easier, clothes shopping is easier, and when walking, they can get there in half the time.
“I’ll just carry you.” There’s a grumble to his tone, and he stops us in our tracks.
“Oh, no, you don’t, big guy. You’re sick, have a fever and all of that jazz. Walking a tad bit slower would help.” I don’t offer for him to let go of my hand. Greedy, that’s exactly what I am when it comes to Parker holding any part of my body. He doesn’t respond. What he does do is slow down, thankfully, because the stairs are in sight, and I would no doubt trip going up them while trying to keep up with his pace. And a staircase it is. Three flights we go up. If someone ever wanted to retire at Parker’s house, an elevator would be a necessity. Still, he somehow manages to make it look effortless, and I’m the one with the perfect view. The shirt he isn’t wearing gives me all the access my heart desires to pant after him, a back that is as muscular as his front, the two indentations in his lower back, all the way down to his firm ass. Yep, I’d say Parker Hudson is one hundred percent perfect, even if he can give you mixed signals at times.