Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
I fill bowls with chips and pretzels, toss a big salad, and set out stacks of plates, bowls, and silverware so everyone can help themselves.
When everything’s ready, I slip into the studio, where I find the men talking to Roddy. Rafe spots me first and alerts his brothers, who turn my way.
“Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know that dinner’s ready, if you’re hungry.” With a wave, I slip back out and return to the kitchen, where I don’t have long to wait and wonder when they might come in to eat.
Thank goodness I set out a lot of food, because more people show up than I even realized were here. I recognize a couple of the security staff, and see familiar faces that were in the studio.
Conal, Rafe, and Bron help get drinks for everyone, and they don’t take food until everyone else has filled a plate. Some people wander out of the kitchen with their food—god knows there are plenty of places around this house to sit—but the large dining table that adjoins the kitchen is nearly full when the brothers lead me there to eat with them.
“Thanks for doing this, babe,” Conal says, not for the first time.
“Everything’s really good, and those muffins were amazing,” Bron says.
Everyone at the table is contentedly munching, and even though this is just simple food that I didn’t even cook, it gives me a warm feeling knowing I put it together and everyone’s enjoying it.
I decide on the spot that I’ll try to cook at least one meal a day while we’re here, and bake as many goodies as the men want.
After Roddy puts away two sandwiches like he hasn’t eaten in days, he talks to the guys about upcoming tour plans. He mostly ignores me, and when he does look my way, he seems disapproving. I can’t tell if that’s his general personality, or if there’s something about me in particular that he’s unhappy about.
As we’re finishing up, a middle-aged woman comes into the kitchen with grocery bags in both hands. She goes about putting away her purchases without paying any attention to us. With the men still engaged in discussion with Roddy, I go over and introduce myself, and find out she’s the housekeeper.
I want to make sure I’m not stepping on any toes in her extremely-orderly kitchen, but her general outlook is the same as Conal’s: I can do whatever I want here.
What she won’t let me do, however, is clean up. In fact, she shoos me away when I try to help, and the men have already returned to the studio, so I’m left to wander the house, looking for a diversion.
It’s dark out now, and everything looks different and beautiful in new ways inside the house. The palm trees I photographed earlier through the windows are now cast in dramatic lighting, so I take more pictures.
I roam around the back yard, where the white noise of the pool’s waterfall lulls me into sleepiness. I wonder how late the men will be working?
They’re still in the studio when I go back inside, so I go upstairs and sit out on the balcony for a while, where the view of the Strip is much more colorful than it was earlier today.
There’s a message from Bliss on my phone, checking in. I let her know that we’ve moved into a house, but I leave out any description of this behemoth. Maybe I’ll do a video chat with her at some point and show her around, but right now, I feel like I’d be bragging. She’s returned to normal life, and I’m living inside a fantasy.
When I yawn for the third time, I go indoors and find my things so I can get ready for bed. The pink bags are still sitting there, a reminder that the Curran brothers would probably prefer that I don’t wear my plaid flannel tonight.
BRON
It’s pitch black out when we leave the studio.
“Shit, what time is it?” Conal asks as we pass by a window.
I check my watch. “Nearly eleven.”
“Damn. We left Hazel alone all fucking day.” He picks up his pace and takes the stairs two at a time, with Rafe and I right behind him.
I’m tired, but when we get to the bedroom and find Hazel asleep on top of the covers wearing a small pink lacy thing, I’m suddenly wide awake.
The lights are still on, and she stirs as we approach the bed. As Conal sits down next to her, her eyes open.
“I’m sorry we ran so long today, babe. Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine. I just got sleepy.”
“You can’t go to sleep without goodnight kisses,” he teases, and her lips curl into an enticing grin.
“I was just napping.” She pushes herself up onto her elbows, and the new position makes her tits look spectacular. Not that they need any special positioning. The pink thing she’s wearing is perfection, but good as she looks in it, I can’t wait to take it off her.