Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Yes,” she answers wearily.
“So you're not a vegetarian?” I ask.
“No.”
“Interesting.”
“Why’s that?”
“You eat chicken but not pork,” I reply, and her head whips around to face me.
“How'd you know that?”
“You're more transparent than you realize.” I smirk. “And definitely not as sly as you think.”
Fallon frowns, biting the inside of her cheek when she realizes.
“Pork is poisonous to dogs,” I tell her. “You could've killed him. Good thing I had meds to give him so he'd puke it up.”
“What?” The color drains from her face as I move around the kitchen, holding back the urge to laugh. Fuck, she's cute when she's gullible.
She looks around for Dasher as if she's truly worried, and guilt floods me for making her panic.
“Fallon.” My deep timbre grabs her attention. “I'm kidding.”
“Goddamn you!” She stands and stomps over, throwing her fist against my shoulder. “That was mean.”
I snicker at her attempt to hurt me. “I'm sorry. You make it too easy to rile you up.”
She stands in front of me with her arms crossed, pouting as she narrows her eyes in anger.
“I think you like him more than you want to admit,” I taunt.
“No,” she quickly responds. “I don't want a dog's death on my hands. That can't be good karma.”
“Why didn't you just tell me you don't eat pork? You don't have to sneak around, Fallon. You aren't going to hurt my feelings because of something I made. My ego isn't that fragile.”
“I didn't want to seem ungrateful,” she says timidly. “Plus, it's not like you asked if I even wanted an omelet, so I just accepted what you made.”
“Fair enough. But from now on, just say something, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Chicken fettuccini, do you like that?”
“I try to avoid pasta, but considering the circumstances, I'll eat some while I'm here.”
“What in the world do you even eat in Seattle? Tofu?”
“For your information, I have a gluten allergy, which is why I limit my pasta intake. It’s not because I deprive myself of carbs. You've seen my thighs. Do you really think I'm a health nut? I just have to watch out for gluten, or I'll feel uncomfortable and bloated.”
At the mention of her luscious legs, I imagine kneeling between them and licking her pussy until she explodes all over my tongue. Her body confidence is as sexy as her curvy hips.
Quickly shaking away the thoughts of her sitting on my face, I nod. “You don't have to eat it if you don't want to.”
“I’ll have a little. It actually sounds pretty good,” she replies, no longer shooting daggers at me.
“Okay, it'll be ready in a half hour. Think you can make it until then?” I smirk when her stomach growls.
“I hope so.”
“You wanna help? I'll cook the chicken if you want to start on the sauce.”
“Do you have a recipe for me to follow?” She looks truly concerned that she'll fuck it up.
I tap my temple. “All up here, babe. I'll walk you through it.”
For the next thirty minutes, we work side by side. She mixes and stirs the ingredients in a pot while I cut and sauté the chicken.
As the sauce simmers, I guide her through boiling the pasta. While she does that, I grab some plates and make our drinks.
“My stomach is going to eat itself soon,” she whines, inhaling the scent of our food.
I laugh, enjoying this side of her. She hasn't glared at me once since we started cooking.
Once the sauce is done, I add in the chicken and let it marinate for a few minutes before she makes a plate. As soon as Fallon makes it to the table, she digs in.
“This sauce is so good,” she moans around a piece of chicken, and I have to adjust myself as I sit across from her.
“I'll be the judge of that,” I tease since she technically made it.
“Don't be rude now,” she quips.
“Me? Look who's talking. I'm the nicest guy you'll ever meet.”
She snorts, devouring her food. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
“Yeah, but I’m not like other guys.”
She snorts. “Oh really? Give me all of your exes’ numbers, and I'll find out for sure.”
I raise a brow. “Oh, we're having the exes talk already? Wow, you really do move fast.”
“Why are you so surprised? We're already living together.” She scoops a forkful of food and devours it like she hasn't eaten in days.
I bark out a laugh. This flirty banter is something I haven't seen from her, and my cock likes it—a lot.
Maybe the key is keeping her fed. Perhaps she's just been hangry this whole time.
One can dream.
“How many exes are there?” she blurts out.
“So we really are having this discussion?”
“Sure, why not? Unless there's been a lot, and you can't count that high?”
I scratch my cheek in amusement, shoveling more pasta into my mouth as I pick my next words carefully.