Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“What are your plans after this?”
“Following you home.”
He chuckles. “Good answer.”
When I pull into his driveway, he parks on his side of the garage, and I park on the other just like he advised when he called me a few minutes ago when we turned onto his road. No one will know I’m here. My belly swirls with anticipation of what’s to come. It’s as if this night has been in the making for almost two weeks, and we’re both live wires ready to spark.
Before I have the chance to, he pulls open my door and offers me his hand. He helps me from the car, shutting the door behind me and pushing my back against the warm metal. His hands land on either side of my face as he kisses me.
This isn’t just any kiss. This is longing and passion, and need. So much need. I grip his wrists as we stand here in his garage and devour one another. There’s an urgency between us, and it has nothing to do with a time constraint but the fact that this moment is long overdue. It’s been a week and a half of constantly thinking about what we missed out on that night. The coals have stayed hot, and now that fire has sparked yet again.
I couldn’t tell you how much time has passed. We’re lost in one another, in the fact that behind these walls, there is no time limit, no rushing to not get caught. It’s just the two of us and this crazy intense chemistry.
Brooks slows the kiss and stands to his full height. “You make me lose my head.”
“Where are we again?” I ask, making him laugh.
“Come on, beautiful. Let’s get you inside.” With his hand on the small of my back, he leads me into his house.
I kick off my shoes in the laundry room and set my purse and keys on the dryer, holding onto my phone, following him into the kitchen. “It smells good in here.”
“Thanks. That’s all Mom. She buys us all candles saying that she doesn’t want to visit her sons’ houses and smell sweaty socks. It’s as if she thinks we can’t manage cleaning without her. I blame the twins, as the only two still living at home, they’re spoiled rotten, and she cleans up after them. She’s already forgotten what it’s like to live with her other sons who did that shit on their own.”
“I’m sure she did it for all of you, and they are the babies. I couldn’t imagine raising nine boys and being down to the last two at home. It’s probably a coping mechanism for her. She’s not going to know what to do with herself when they move out.”
“I don’t know that they ever will if she keeps spoiling them as she does.”
“Aw, do I detect a hint of jealousy?”
“Nope.” He winks, and my reply is a wide smile. He grabs my hand and leads me to the living room, where he takes a seat on the couch and pulls me onto his lap. “How have you been?”
I’m shocked that he’s asking. I assumed I was here for one thing and one thing only. His interest has my heart fluttering in my chest. “Busy. I had a long list of things to do this afternoon, but I was able to work through them all. Now all I need to do is get caught up on photo edits, but I only have one shoot, and it’s in the studio tomorrow, so I should have lots of time to get caught up there too.”
“How was the wedding last weekend? That was a lot of hours.”
“You’re one to talk, Mr. ‘I work twelve-hour shifts that turn into fourteen plus.’”
“Yeah, it’s been a rough one, but I don’t have kids, so I pick up for those who do when I can. One day, when I’m a father and need to alter my schedule, I’d like to think they will remember all the times I picked up for them and do the same for me.”
My belly gets all fluttery thinking about Brooks holding a baby, and of course in this visual the baby is ours. His and mine. I shake out of the thought. “The wedding was good. It’s always long days when I’m the photographer for the entire weekend. I took thousands of images that I need to sift through and edit.”
“Your eyes light up when you talk about it.”
“What?”
“When you talk about your job. You get this sparkle in your eyes.”
“I really love it. It never feels like work for me.”
“Do what you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life.”
“Kincaid wisdom?” I ask.
“Nah, saw it on a social media post.”
“I should have known,” I say, laughing lightly.
He pulls me closer, and I move around until I can rest my head on his chest. “Archer kicked my ass today,” he says, his voice low.