Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Ramsay groaned. “Can it not wait?”
“Nope.” I wandered out the door and stopped by the couch to pet Akiva who was now very used to our shenanigans. She kept out of the way but always looked at us when we reappeared as if to say Again? in what I imagined was beleaguered disgust.
She did, however, buss into my petting and when I crossed to the door, she hopped off the couch to follow me.
“Wait.” Ramsay strode out of the bedroom, pulling up a pair of joggers.
My cheeks flushed at the sight of his gorgeous half-nakedness, his hair mussed from my fingers. Seriously, I was insatiable for him.
“Shoes.” He pointed to my feet.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Shoes. There are wood shavings and pieces of metal in there. Shoes. Or I carry you.” He pulled on his own boots with a warning, bossy glare that really should have pissed me off.
Instead, I felt warmed by his concern. I didn’t show him that, though. I huffed, muttering about him bossing me around as I pulled on my boots.
“You love it,” he grumbled, stalking out the door.
“Only when you’re inside me!” I called back.
He flicked me a heated, amused look over his shoulder before marching to the barn to open the door.
Suddenly nervous, hoping for both our sakes I loved the dresser, I hurried with Akiva to follow him.
Ramsay hit the lights and gestured toward the back of the workshop. “Here.” He guided me across the barn.
“It needs either a stain or paint, but I wanted you to choose that.”
We stopped in front of it, and I gasped.
“No. No paint,” I opined immediately. “Can I touch it?”
“O’ course.”
I smoothed my hand along the top of the sideboard. Like a traditional dresser it had a countertop and mounted to that was open cabinetry. Except Ramsay had added drawers between the top and the bottom to match the cupboards in the sideboard. There was space to display belongings on the countertop, maybe even put out breakfast items. And shelving on top to display the more elegant pieces I’d inherited from my grandmother’s crockery collection.
What made it modern were the clean lines, sharp edges, no fancy frills. And the legs, which were slanted at an angle with a midcentury modern vibe.
What made it beautiful was Ramsay had created it using small planks of wood to give the effect of herringbone.
It was cool and contemporary while still being beautiful. Exactly what I wanted.
“It’s stunning.” I opened the cabinets, inhaling the rich scent of the wood.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Turning to him, I slid my hands up his strong pecs and entwined my fingers behind his neck. It forced our bodies flush since I was quite a bit shorter than him. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
Seemingly uncomfortable with my gratitude, he gave my ass a little pat. “You’re welcome. Now, what color of stain to seal it?”
My lips twitched at his gruff subject change, and I studied the dresser. I couldn’t wait to see it in the dining room. “It matches the dining table we chose as it is.” He’d clearly paid attention to my overall design. There went my heart beating a little faster.
“So, a clear stain?”
“Yes. Please.” I bit my lip against a giddy grin as I stared at the piece of furniture.
Maybe … maybe he did care about me. Just a little.
Of course, I had to thank him properly.
A little while later, after I’d ridden him hard, we collapsed onto the bed again. I knew we were done for the night because Ramsay whistled for Akiva. We heard her pads hit the wooden floors before she appeared in the bedroom door. Ramsay’s bed was huge, so it accommodated the large Malamute. She jumped onto the foot of the bed and spread out to go to sleep.
Before Ramsay could roll over to switch off his light, I asked, “What was your life like before you came here?”
There were a million questions I wanted to ask him. About his past. His life. If he’d ever been in love. We’d steered clear of how he knew about Hugh, what he knew about Michelle, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to know more. To give him the chance to confide whatever information about himself he was happy to share.
Ramsay was silent for a few seconds, and I shifted onto my side, tucking my hands beneath my cheek as I stared at him. Waiting.
He flicked me a look before staring at the bedroom ceiling. “I was in the marines. I moved around a lot.”
“Why did you retire?”
“It’s a young man’s job.”
“You were only thirty-four when you retired, though, right?”
“I was done.”
At his flat, almost snippy response, I sighed internally. “Where did they deploy you?”
“All over.”
My God! Frustration roared through me. It was like we were back at day one when he’d barely string three words together. I kept my frustration to myself. “Did you … did you inherit your books from your birth parents? You mentioned before they were an inheritance.”