Total pages in book: 199
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
I grin. “In his dreams. But that’s kind of what I’m calling about. Do you think Rachel would let Ruby and me camp out at her place? On the far side of the lake? I want to teach Ruby how to throw axes in the wild.”
Ruby snorts and whispers, “Yeah, right. Good way to lose a limb, my friend. My hand-eye coordination is even worse than my breaststroke.”
But she looks excited, nibbling on the edge of her thumb as Mom puts me on hold to hop on a call with Rachel.
I cover the receiver. “When can we leave?”
“She might not say yes,” Ruby says.
“She’s going to say yes. Rachel loves my family. She never says no to Mom. So?” I curl my fingers into her hip, loving that I can, that we have these moments, even for a little while. “When can I kidnap you? Tomorrow morning?”
“I can’t.” She bites her bottom lip but a grin breaks through. “I’ll need at least a few days to get ready. I have sketches due for the new menus, and card orders to place, and I’d have to pack, and—”
“She’s ready for you whenever,” Mom says brightly as she comes back on the line. “But let me know before you leave so she can text you a list. She needs a few things from the bulk store. You can swing by on your way out of town. I’ll give you my membership card.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Mom.” I squeeze Ruby’s thigh. “We’ll probably head out the day after tomorrow.”
“I said a couple of days,” Ruby hisses, but she’s laughing as she swats my chest. “At least two.”
“Yeah, I’m going to pack for Ruby while she works tomorrow,” I tell Mom—and Ruby. I’m raring to go. The thought of getting out of town with this woman has me all jazzed up, and I’m pretty sure I know why. A trip, just the two of us, feels like the next step. A dangerous step, but one I want to take with her. I want to know what it’s like to vacation with Ruby, to have her all to myself for a few days with no interruptions. “Then we’ll head out Wednesday morning. I’ll make sure I get that list before we leave.”
I sign off and end the call, tossing my cell back in the bag before gathering Ruby closer, sliding a hand under her cover-up as she leans into me. I crave her closeness. “There. All settled.”
“You can’t pack for me,” she says, humming beneath her breath. I cup her breast through her sexy-as-sin suit. “And you can’t do that in public.”
“It’s dark enough. No one will see,” I murmur, all caught up in her. “And I’m an excellent packer. We’ll sleep at your place tonight. I’ll pack you in the morning while you work, then head home and grab my things, and be back at your place with pre-adventure pizza for a late dinner.”
And holy shit . . . I just went full couple planning with her.
I ought to be terrified, because I don’t do that.
I don’t want to be tied down. Haven’t wanted that in ages.
But I don’t mind it at all with Ruby.
With my daring, courageous friend, who is so much more than a friend.
Full couple seems to be all I want right now.
Riddle me that.
But then, it’s not all that complicated.
I’ve always loved Ruby. I should have known it wouldn’t be that hard to fall in love with her. If I could rewind the past few days and undo this tumble into something more . . . maybe I would.
But I can’t. And right now, I just want more of her. As much as I can get.
I tip my forehead in the direction of her place. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You’re a mind reader.” She grins. “That may be one of my favorite things about you.”
I almost tell her I have too many favorite parts of her to list, but that kind of cheesy shit is a good way to make it even harder to say goodbye than it’s going to be already.
At her place we make quick work of our clothes.
Cover-ups and shirts pool on the floor, and she grabs her phone, clicks on a playlist, then scoots back on the bed, her eyes wide, eager.
Soft, sexy music floats through her room.
Like I need mood music, but hey, I won’t complain about Sam Smith.
I climb over her, sliding my hand along her soft skin, dipping my face to her neck. A sigh falls from my lips as I kiss her, tasting the ocean and the sand and her.
My head spins with longing, and my body throbs with desire.
Her hands roam down my chest, over my abs, and straight to my dick.
When she grips me, the noise I make is carnal.
And needy too.
So is hers. A plea. “Jesse.”