Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“It’s fine.” Her words were clipped. “I need the money, and you need the help, right?”
I was trying to be a nice guy here. “Sure.”
“Okay, what were you thinking? I mean, obviously, the kitchen. What else?”
Now I was irritated. “Uh . . . the bathrooms too, I guess.”
“I don’t do laundry.” It came from her so abruptly, it was like she’d just thought of it. “I mean, I don’t want to do yours. Bedding and towels are okay, but not clothes.”
“Fine by me.” I could certainly handle doing my own laundry. Plus, the idea of her doing it felt wrong.
“And I don’t do windows. Too time consuming.”
I nodded.
Then, she ticked her chin up, trying to look strong, but her uneven voice gave her away. “Bedrooms?”
There wasn’t a point in cleaning the guest or spare rooms, but my bedroom was where I spent the majority of my time. “Just mine.”
I hadn’t put any heat into my words, but it didn’t matter. Now we were both picturing the last time we’d been in there, and the air between us snapped tight.
Her effect on me was unreal and frustrating. Desire trapped inside me bounced around, searching for a weakness. It needed to escape, to have freedom and take what it wanted.
No. It’s not allowed.
The fuck if that didn’t make me want her more.
“And my office,” I added.
She nodded. “Anything else?”
“I don’t think so.”
Charlotte began to move, strolling toward the kitchen, causing me to follow. “All right, I’m going to walk around and take a look.” She pulled to a stop so suddenly, I nearly ran into her. “I mean, if that’s all right with you? I’m trying to figure out how many hours I think it’ll take so I can give you a quote.”
I gestured toward the hallway. “Go ahead.”
We didn’t speak as she went room by room. There were no comments about the drastic improvement of my kitchen, with its empty sink and clean countertops. Nor did she say anything about the artwork hanging on the walls.
But she hesitated at the threshold to my bedroom.
“Everything all right?” I asked.
It forced her to keep moving, and she stepped inside the room, taking in her surroundings. “You made your bed today.”
I smiled sheepishly. “I knew I was going to have company.”
She turned in place, giving me a full view of her flat expression. “Don’t think of me like that.”
“Like what? A person?”
“Like a friend.” She put a hand on her hip. “Maybe think of me as your employee.”
I raised my eyebrows. “If you’re asking to keep things strictly professional between us, I couldn’t agree more, and you’ll have no issues from my end.”
“Good. That’s good.”
Her gaze shifted away to linger on my bed, and her expression turned cryptic. What was she thinking about?
Her voice lost some of its power. “Will you want to be here while I’m doing it?”
“While you’re cleaning? I don’t have to be.” It seemed unlikely she was going to make off with any of my stuff. “Is that what you’d prefer?”
She looked relieved. “Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She pulled the neckline up over her bare shoulder, only for it to immediately slide off. “I don’t want us to get in each other’s way.”
I was pretty sure I understood what she really meant, that this whole thing would be easier for her if she didn’t have to see me. And why was that? Was I too tempting?
Stop thinking like that.
“Okay,” I said. “Next time you come, I’ll make sure I’m not around, but I’ve got too much to do to leave tonight.”
She nodded, and with that settled, she padded on her socked feet into my bathroom. Her gaze swept over the large glass shower, the double vanity sinks, and the freestanding bathtub I doubted I’d ever use. Something caught her attention, and I watched her through the mirror as she marched toward the sink that was clearly mine.
A slow smile crept over her lips as she peered at the bare granite. “Did you clean before I got here?”
How the fuck could she tell? I shrugged one shoulder, pretending I didn’t care and that I hadn’t done it for her. “Maybe.”
Her gaze lifted to connect with mine through the glass. For a split second, I saw the girl she’d been the other night, but a heartbeat later, she vanished. Charlotte turned, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back against the counter.
“One visit a week?” she asked.
I was one person. “Yeah, that should be plenty.”
“I think it’ll take me three hours, and my rate is forty an hour.”
A humorless laugh punched free from my chest. “You’re dreaming.”
She tilted her head and shot me a hard look. “You have a big house, Noah. I don’t think I can do it any faster—”
“No, you’re dreaming about your rate.” Explaining to Ardy why this deal with his daughter fell through should be easy now. “I looked at rates in this area, and most places don’t charge more than twenty-five bucks.” I spoke with the same direct tone I used when executing trades. “I’m doing you a favor; I’m not donating to charity.”