Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
I’d been resting my head on his shoulder, but I lifted it to look at him.
“You’re going?”
“Yeah, because I don’t want you alone with your dad this first visit when he’s been a dick to you in the past.”
Man, he was just so sweet.
“And yeah, because I wanna make sure you’re safe in other ways too,” he concluded.
Totally another pro for Hugger.
All the same.
“I don’t really want to eat dinner with Dad being a dick to you.”
“I got tough skin, Di. Don’t worry about me.”
I wanted to know more about why he had to have tough skin, but I didn’t get into that. We were getting to know each other, but we didn’t have to do it all in one day.
“My friend Bernie also wants me to go out to cocktails on Friday.”
“We can arrange that too.”
“Would you like to come to that?”
His lips tipped up and he replied, “Not a cocktail guy, babe.”
No surprise.
“And feel it’d be more of a trial by fire to pitch up with your friends than with your dad.”
He was right about that.
My friends weren’t judgy, but we didn’t accept just any pretty face when it came to who we were dating.
“They know about Madison?” Hugger asked.
“No.”
“They know about you?” he asked more gently.
“Yeah.”
“You wanna tell me why you didn’t tell them about Madison?”
“Because I didn’t want them to talk me out of doing something totally insane.”
He chuckled, and it sounded and felt nice.
“So I can say yes to Dad and Bernie,” I summed up.
“Yeah.”
“And now I need to make another list. So I need to know what your favorite pizza is.”
He answered readily. “Not a fan of soggy onions, and if there’s a pizza in this house with pineapple on it, I’ll throw it over your balcony.”
I started laughing.
Through my laughter, he went on, “Other than that, I’ll eat anything. But if I was ordering just for myself, it’d be sausage and mushroom.”
“So pepperoni for Madison and sausage and mushroom for you.”
He gave me a squeeze. “And what about you?”
“What’s my favorite pizza?”
“Yeah, I wanna know that. But I also want you putting your favorites on the list. Gonna repeat, it isn’t all about everyone else all the time.”
“I fear you might be getting the wrong idea about me, my man.”
Me saying “my man” got me another squeeze, even if I didn’t mean it that way.
I liked what that squeeze meant, though.
“I’m not always this selfless,” I warned him.
“We’ll see,” he muttered.
“I’m really not,” I stressed.
“Okay, I believe you,” he openly lied.
I smiled at him.
His eyes dropped to my mouth and I saw up close how they heated.
“Prettiest smile I’ve seen,” he murmured.
Ohmigod!
Nice!
“You think it’s safe to make out?” I asked.
His eyes came to mine, and now I saw regret.
“No,” he answered.
“Just a little?” I pushed.
That was when I saw close-up his eyes glimmered with humor.
“You think after that kiss this morning we could make out ‘just a little?’ It wasn’t easy to stop then. Now that I know how good it is havin’ that mouth, not sure that’s in the cards.”
I frowned as I was forced to concede, “I see your point.”
He chuckled again, I liked the feel and sound of it again, so I took a chance and snuggled closer.
His arms tightened even as he noted, “You got a list to make.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled.
“We can order pizza, Di.”
“Madison likes to cook with me.”
His body started shaking and it took me a bit to realize he was laughing.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“Tell me again how you’re not selfless all the time.”
I smacked his chest.
He caught my wrist, lifted it to his mouth, and I felt the brush of his whiskers along with the softness of his lips when he touched them on the inside.
And the all-over happy wiggles were back with a vengeance, because not only feeling that, but watching him do it was a massive turn-on.
“Go get the pad and bring it back,” he ordered. “We’ll do a big-ass shop. Make a menu or somethin’, so you’re not always havin’ to write out lists, and we’re not always havin’ to leave you with only one man on you when we go to the store.”
I thought this was a great idea, so I broke from his hold and zipped to the kitchen to get my pad and a pen.
When I returned, for a second I wasn’t sure what to do. Since he instigated cuddling, could I go back to that? Or did I need to give him space?
Hugger decided for me by taking my hand and tugging me to the couch where I was close.
“Let’s make hot fudge sundaes tonight for dessert,” he suggested.
“I’m so in love with that idea, I could cry.”
Now those fabulous brown eyes were twinkling.
“You’re a nut,” he joked (though, as we all knew, there was some truth to that).
“Not a bad one, though,” I said.