Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Once the lights are off upstairs, I quietly go up there and grab some comfy clothes from my suitcase. Finn's passed out, and though I'm tired, I decide to watch some TV while I eat.
Oh my God.
My eyes nearly roll to the back of my head as I swallow the first bite of the pie.
“Fuck. I need a cold shower after that one,” I muse, then curl up on the couch and flick through the channels. There aren't many options, so I settle for I Love Lucy.
My eyes grow heavy, but the food baby in my stomach is making me too tired to walk, so I surrender to his uncomfortable couch.
I don't know how long I'm in dreamland before I'm being lifted. His hard bare chest presses against my body, and I instinctively wrap my arms around him so I don't fall.
“What are you doing?” I mutter as he carries me upstairs.
“Shut up and go to sleep,” he says, laying me down.
I flash a lazy smile. “I knew you liked me in your bed.”
He scoffs, pulling the blankets around me. “I didn't wanna hear your whining tomorrow about a stiff neck.”
“Mmhmm, I'm sure that's it.” I roll onto my side and get comfortable. “If you wanted to spoon me, coulda just asked.”
“You're making me regret this,” he murmurs, sliding in next to me.
Suppressing my laughter, I wiggle closer to the middle because I know it won't be long until his body wraps around mine.
I fall asleep quickly, but sometime later, I wake up with his palm pressed against my stomach, right above my panties. My back is plastered to his chest, and if anyone were to walk in, they'd assume we were a real couple.
By his cock jerking behind me, I know he's also awake. Or maybe he never fell back asleep.
“Touch me,” I whisper, then add, “Lower.”
“Oakley...” He hisses my name like it’s painful to say. “Don't tempt me more than you already do.”
“What's stopping you?”
He swallows hard, his lips faintly brushing my ear. “Go. To. Sleep.” He harshly emphasizes each word. “Please,” he adds, softer this time.
When I realize he's struggling with his feelings, I drop it.
DAY 7
He's already left for work by the time I wake up. After being here officially for a week, I'm finishing my first commissioned painting today. I feel proud and accomplished.
It still needs eight hours to dry before being presented at the centennial in two days.
Finn picks me up for brunch. Neither of us mentions last night, and we barely speak until we run into Aspen at the inn.
“Hey! How's the happy couple?” she beams, glancing at me before her gaze lands on Finn.
“We're great!” I answer even though she's ignoring me.
“It was so wonderful dining with you two last night,” she says, finally meeting my eyes. “Austin and I had a fantastic time.”
Finn's jaw clenches as if he can't stand hearing her voice, and I’m starting to feel the same.
“Could I have a quick private moment with Finn?” Aspen asks me with a phony smile plastered on her face.
I awkwardly nod, then grab Finn's face and smack my lips to his. His brown eyes widen, and I flash him a wink. “I'll be over at the buffet.”
“Okay, save me a spot.”
“Will do, baby,” I singsong, then walk away.
When I grab a plate, I glance over my shoulder and see Aspen nearly glued to Finn as she talks his ear off. Seeing them so close nearly has me dry heaving. She never deserved a man like Finn, and now she's here, flashing her engagement ring and new man in his space.
“I never liked her,” a voice next to me says. I’m relieved when I see Jessa. She's leaning against the buffet as I scoop diced sweet potatoes onto my plate. “You're way better for him.”
“We aren't really a couple,” I remind her, keeping my voice low so no one else overhears.
She flashes a mischievous smirk. “Maybe you should be.”
I snort, piling some fruit next to my potatoes. “He can hardly stand pretending.”
“Finn doesn't show emotion well, but I see the way he looks at you. He's fighting every urge he has. I can tell,” she says confidently. “He never looked at Aspen the way I’ve caught him staring at you.”
Pfft. “I find that hard to believe,” I tell her. “We're at each other's throats more often than not.”
Not to mention, I asked him to touch me and was denied.
She waggles her brows. “Sounds like foreplay to me.”
Finn finally breaks free of Aspen, fills a plate, and joins me at the table. I'm tempted to ask what she wanted, but it's not my business. If he wanted me to know, he’d tell me.
“What did the Wicked Witch of the West want?” Jessa asks, sitting across from us. Apparently, she has no problem asking, and I’m thankful.