Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 142939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“I suppose you’re right.”
I drop my arms. Well, that was easy. I guess the coffee shop can stay as-is. The owners were on the fence about selling the place anyways. That makes things easier. “I’ll set it up later. I don’t want your breakfast getting cold.”
He suddenly grabs me by the hips, lifting me back up to sit on the kitchen island before he gets back to making our breakfast. I watch his every move. What is it about Owen that is so alluring to me? Is it the unknown?
“No work today?” he asks, flipping the bacon.
“I did some last night. Is this your way of suggesting I leave?”
“What?” He turns off the stove and pulls the bacon off.
“You know when people say things like I’m getting tired. It’s a way of trying to nicely tell someone you want them to leave.”
“Told you Ace, I don’t ever want you to leave.” He’d better be careful, or I’ll start thinking he wants me to move in.
Owen comes over, one hand landing on each side of me. How am I only now noticing the man is at least twice my size? I have no clue what he is capable of or who he really is.
My only defense is behind a screen, and right now, there is nothing between the two of us. I’m utterly vulnerable.
“I like you,” I tell him, unable to help myself. I’m obsessed with him but feel under his control too. I have never been more excited or enthralled with anything in my life.
“I like you, too.”
I grip the front of his shirt to pull him down for a kiss. “Careful what you say, Owen.”
“Promise, I always know what I’m doing,” he responds with a soft drawl before kissing me.
I might not know what Owen is up to, but that’s okay. If Duffy is after him, Owen will need me. I’ll make sure of that.
14
OWEN
Once we’ve had breakfast, Alfie drags over one of his cat toys–a mouse on a string attached to a stick.
“Does he do this a lot?” Maggie asks, a look of chagrin on her face.
“Yes.” I smile as she takes the toy and leads him into the living room with it.
“Catch it!” She waves it around, and Alfie parkours off a few things before launching himself at the squeaking mouse. With a quick flick of her wrist, she saves the mouse from his claws, but he isn’t deterred. He keeps trying, even engaging his butt wiggle at times as he lines up to murder the toy.
“You’ll have to try harder than that,” she taunts him, her smile warming me as she and Alfie keep playing.
When he finally catches it, he bites down hard and struts away, the stick dragging behind him as he takes his toy somewhere else to gloat over his kill.
I wrap my arm around Maggie’s waist and pull her down to the sofa with me. “So what do you want to do today?”
She turns to me, her eyes taking on a mischievous quality. “Oh, I don’t know. What do you usually do in a day?”
I’ll have to give her an answer that tiptoes around some of the slightly more illegal parts of my business. “Hmm, that’s a good question. I always start out with my morning chores. Tending the horses and feeding the chickens. Then I check my garden, make sure the vine borers aren’t ruining my tomatoes, check for fungus, pull weeds, things like that.” I pause.
“And?” she asks.
“That’s not enough?”
She looks around the house, her gaze flicking to the high-end finishes. “I don’t think you got all this from messing around with fruits and vegetables.”
“No. You’re right about that. I have work, just like everyone else.”
Her eyebrows twitch upward just a hair. “Yeah? What sort of work?”
I pull her more tightly to my side. “Is this an interrogation?”
She smirks. “I haven’t even begun.”
I laugh. God, she is too much. I want it all. “What about you? You’ve not told me much apart from your name.”
“Maybe I prefer to be mysterious,” she says airily.
“Let’s start small, then. Where did you grow up?”
“I guess that information doesn’t give too much away. I grew up in town with my dad. You?”
“My parents traveled a lot. My mother was FBI; my father was in the Navy. I spent time in Germany, Dubai, Indonesia, and plenty of duty stations around the US.”
She blinks. “There are women in all those places.”
I try not to smile. “Generally speaking, yes. But not to worry; I wasn’t much of a chick magnet during my braces and pimples phase.”
Her eyes narrow. “So what happened when you grew up? You don’t live with your parents anymore.”
“No, they’re divorced and live abroad. I dropped out of high school and got into tech.”
“What sort of tech?”
I cock my head to the side. “What about you? Did you go to college?”