Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
‘Hey,’ she says quietly, looking past me to the woman who’s on the threshold of her office. She also looks wary. Maybe a little pissed off, and it’s not because Cherry put the blockers on our moment.
I quickly move aside when Cherry wanders in, her arm brushing mine. ‘It’s lovely to see you, Ava.’ She reaches the desk and smiles brightly at my wife, who looks at her with a little suspicion.
‘Sure it is,’ she mumbles, all hostile. ‘Would you mind giving us five minutes?’ she says to Cherry, the question sounding like anything but a question, her tone flat, her smile sickly sweet.
‘Of course.’ Cherry backs away, turning and sashaying to the door. She definitely straightens her back on the way, and she definitely has a little pouty-lips thing going on. Fucking hell.
I roll my eyes and face my annoyed wife. Maybe annoyed is an understatement. Seething seems more appropriate. She isn’t a happy girlie. And I’m thrilled. She cocks her head in question, and I just shrug. What can I say?
‘I’ve given Cherry a few more responsibilities in Ava’s absence,’ John says, maybe a little cautiously. ‘Sorry if I’ve upset you, girl.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Ava grumbles moodily. ‘It’s not like I can remember how to do my job, anyway.’ She picks up a few bits of paper from the floor and scans them before chucking them back on the desk and dropping to the chair.
‘The accounts need to be kept in check, membership fees collected, creditors paid,’ the big man continues, showing a rare pacifying side.
‘You don’t need to be worrying about work at the moment.’ I join John in his attempts to make Ava feel better, because despondency over work isn’t good when she’s spouting off shit about other jobs. Over my dead body. ‘We need to focus on getting you well.’
Her scowl is pointed at me, though I know she’s more annoyed with herself. ‘I feel fine,’ she grumbles, pushing herself to her feet. ‘And I also don’t need to be worried about some hussy coming on to my husband.’
John coughs, and I smile like a madman on the inside. She’s not only being possessive over me, which alone is thrilling, she’s also being possessive over her job. This is good. She can quit with the stupid idea of getting another one. ‘No woman turns my head unless it is my wife,’ I remind her, wandering over and collecting her hand. ‘You know that.’
Her over-the-top pout is so adorable. She wants reassurance. I’ll give it, all day every day. I hope we once again get to the point when she doesn’t need it any more. ‘I know that.’ She puts herself in my chest, her arms slipping around my back, her cheek squished against my T-shirt. ‘For such an old man, you’re in high demand, Jesse Ward.’
I recoil, and John laughs his laugh that’s capable of shaking a building. ‘Go home,’ he chuckles, making for the door. ‘I’m keeping Cherry in check.’
‘Thanks, John.’ I wrestle Ava from my front and turn her, leading her to the door. ‘Old?’
Her shoulders jump under my palms. ‘Your age doesn’t seem to be making the slightest bit of difference to the attention you get. That Cherry must be ten years younger than me.’
‘You being all possessive?’ I kiss her cheek as we walk back to the main floor of the gym, me tailing her, her hands now resting over mine where they lay on her shoulders. ‘Because I like it.’
She comes to a stop, and her body starts jerking a little under my touch. Worried, I round her. She has the biggest smile on her face.
‘What?’ I ask.
Lifting her arm, she points, prompting me to look over my shoulder. ‘Rowing machines,’ she says, definite humour edging her tone, though it’s obvious she’s unsure why, a small frown marring her smile when I return my attention to her.
‘What’s so funny?’ I ask.
‘I don’t know.’ She shakes her head. ‘Do you like rowing?’
I grin, looking back at the machines, thinking they’ve developed a lot over the years. There’s no way I could execute the perfect slide and hit on one of those things. I’m so glad I kept my old one. ‘We love rowing.’
‘We do?’ She seems surprised by the revelation. ‘Am I good at it?’
I chuckle to myself, feeling my eyes spark with revived fire. ‘You’re very good at it.’
‘What, like all romantic, rowing-on-the-river type of thing? Sunshine, peace and gooey romantic words?’ Her eyes gleam. I’m about to burst her idyllic bubble.
My palm creeping across her shoulders, I pull her into my side and start walking us away from the rowing machines. ‘Not quite like that.’ I feel her look up at me in question, prompting me to go on. ‘Our rowing is very unique.’
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me? So, come on, then. How do we row?’