Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Or he was saving face by playing it cool and she was being ridiculous. The man was making this easy on her and she was inwardly complaining that he wasn’t making it harder. It was perverse, but then she had deeply conflicted feelings about David.
Feelings she could maybe work out over the course of this week. She could get to know him and then she would see he wasn’t as perfect as he seemed to be. Most men showed their true colors when a woman spent too much time with them. He wouldn’t be as patient as he seemed. His charm would wear off when she took charge and he got annoyed.
Yes, this could be exactly what she needed.
Especially if he was late.
A deep purr caught her ear, and she turned to see a gorgeous muscle car rolling down the road. It started to slow as though it was going to turn into the parking lot but then righted its path as the driver seemed to recognize her.
That car was a dream. Navy blue, with a wide black stripe running over the hood. David had done a spectacular job. He’d likely spent months restoring her and making her glow.
And that suddenly seemed sexual. The man was obviously good with his hands.
He pulled the car to a stop in front of her, put it in park, and hopped out.
Would being around him make him less attractive? Because a couple of weeks apart had definitely not done that trick. He was dressed more casually than he’d been earlier in the day, and the T-shirt he wore showed off muscular forearms. His hair was a bit messy, like he’d taken a shower and simply ran a towel over it and let it dry naturally into waves. Even the glasses he wore were sexy.
He was the college professor equivalent of a dreamy boy-band singer. Except he was a man, and that scruff on his well-defined jawline did something for her.
“Hey, I’m sorry. Am I late? I was going to come up and help you with your luggage.”
Of course he was going to do that because he was a gentleman and he helped people even when they were horrifically rude and ignored his polite texts.
She was definitely the asshole in this situation.
She hefted her small bag. “You’re early, and I travel pretty light. You were right about that car. She’s a beauty.”
Small talk. She could make small talk with him, and then they wouldn’t have to feel weird and awkward.
The biggest grin came over his face, and it took everything she had not to sigh. “Thanks. She’s the outcome of many, many hours of work. Although it doesn’t feel like work. It’s a way to shut off my brain. Like muscle memory. I used to help my dad work on cars. It was his hobby, and I think I feel close to him when I’m restoring a car. Sorry. I was reminded of that today. I think I told you this was a present from my mom and stepdad when I finished my doctorate. I thought it was my mom’s idea, but now I wonder if it wasn’t Sean’s. And I am talking entirely too much. Let’s store your bag and we can head to the airport.”
He moved around to the trunk and had it open in a second. She placed her bag beside his and tried not to think about how sweet it was that he’d restored this whole car so he could feel close to a father who’d been taken too soon.
But she couldn’t because she knew that feeling so well. “My dad had this vintage record collection. Like all the oldies. Elvis and Frank Sinatra and Sam Cooke. When he died all I wanted were those albums. When I listen to them I feel close to him. He used to put on a record and he would stop my mom from whatever she was doing and they would dance in the living room.”
That was how she always saw her dad—dancing in the middle of the day, his eyes closed because he didn’t need to see. They fit together perfectly. She and her brothers used to gag and make fun of them, and now she would do anything to see them together one last time.
Why had she told him that? She was supposed to stay professional toward the gorgeous man who could easily get her fired.
Though that wasn’t what she was really afraid of.
He grimaced as he moved to open her door. “Okay, so this is one of those coincidental things. I need you to understand that I had no prior knowledge of that story.”
“Of course you didn’t. I haven’t told it to anyone.” Not even Michael. She’d been engaged to the man, lived with him for six whole months, and she’d never taken those records out of their box. They hadn’t fit in that magnificent, state-of-the-art mansion in the sky of his.