Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Mmm, naked, soapy Wade.
That heavenly vision exploded into mist when a knock sounded at the back door.
It had to be him, but I raced to the window anyway. Yep. He was standing right outside the door. Waiting.
Shit.
I touched my hair and looked down to make sure I was decent. Blue-and-white checked pajama bottoms, a Twilight Zone T-shirt and a ponytail. No stains, thankfully. The fact that I was moderately presentable wasn’t that startling anymore. Since he moved in, I’d been showering and wearing a bra on a daily basis in case I “accidentally” ran into him.
That is the saddest, most pathetic thought anyone has ever had.
I’d had worse, I thought as I headed down the stairs toward the man who, as promised, had been a perfect renter so far.
Too perfect. He must really be happy to be off his sister’s couch.
He’d brought home a power washer the day after he signed the lease, showing me how to make the courtyard white and gleaming like new again. When I’d forgotten it was garbage day and overslept, he’d already rolled the bin to the street. Today he’d mowed the lawn, and I couldn’t ignore the fact that Myrtle was running better than she had in years, all thanks to him.
He hadn’t even complained about the bed, though I’d seen him grimace and rub his back once or twice on his way to work. A small part of me marveled that my Retta ancestors weren’t haunting me from beyond the veil, invoking the rules and demanding I offer to switch beds so my renter could sleep in king-sized memory-foam comfort while I suffered on a queen innerspring.
I took a minute to collect myself before answering the door. I didn’t want him to think I’d been watching him through the window or something.
But you were, Mrs. Roper.
He didn’t need to know that.
When I opened the door, it was all I could do not to swoon a little at the sight of all that bare, sweaty skin. So much acreage. “Hey Wade, what’s up?”
“Am I interrupting anything?”
That voice. “I was writing, but I took a break.” Writing about you, taking a break to stare at you. “It’s fine. What do you need?”
He gazed down at me with his mesmerizing, multicolored eyes. “I wanted to double-check that this was still okay with you before Rick and Lucy got here. They won’t stay long. I thought a face-to-face might cool them both down, but I can tell them to wait until I’m at work.”
“I already told you it was fine. And we included pool and backyard usage with prior approval in the lease. You’re totally in compliance.”
“That’s good. We wouldn’t want to break any of the rules.”
When he said it like that, it sounded like he was actually thinking of breaking a few.
You’re imagining things.
I was still getting used to this new dynamic. I’d lived in apartments for decades and only had contact with my landlords when I was moving in or out. But in one week, I’d seen more of Wade than I had of all of them put together. And when I wasn’t seeing him, I was putting him in all sorts of compromising positions he was never going to know about.
Should I feel guilty about that? Because I didn’t.
“They’re coming here to talk about the car, right? Did you find one yet?”
He lifted an arm over his head and leaned against the doorjamb. “Not yet. Why? Do you know someone looking to sell their car for cheap, Gus?”
The opportunity to respond was right there, but all rational thought vanished in the wake of his clean-sweat scent. Seriously, was it his soap? Pheromones? Why did he always smell so freaking fantastic?
“Just wondering,” I finally croaked. Damn it.
“Okay. Well, I won’t keep you if you’re writing, but I appreciate this, Gus. I promise, I won’t make it a habit. And if you need help with anything else around here, and I mean anything, you let me know.”
I needed help in my bedroom with my new toy. Right now.
Stop.
That wasn’t what he was implying, no matter how suggestive everything he said was sounding lately. He was playing nice to ensure a few more months in the apartment, being handy because he was grateful. Why else would he have tossed aside years of ignoring me like I was the bug he couldn’t scrape off his windshield and transformed into a hot snack of conversationally available neighbor overnight?
I cleared my throat and took a step back. “You’ve done too much already, but I appreciate all of it. Let the guys know they’re free to ‘cool off’ in the pool. I never use it, but somebody should. And don’t worry. Other than letting Merlin out once or twice, I’ll be too busy writing to disturb you.”
Too busy writing. I did love saying that. Especially when it wasn’t a lie.