Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
I continue my perusal, taking in the strong structure of his face, the chiseled jawline, sculpted with pure masculinity in mind, and you know there are women who look twice. A lot of who are probably breaking their necks to get his attention. His lips are lush and inviting, with a natural softness that makes you want to press yours against them. Jagger’s upper lip is fuller, and when his teeth press down on the lower lip like they do now, I’m tempted to throw caution to the wind and launch myself into his arms.
His build is strong and muscular, the white cotton tee only showcasing his broad shoulders, wide chest, and massive-as-hell arms. His powerful torso tapers down to a narrow waist, flaring out to thick thighs encased in worn jeans, stained in various places, a rip in the back pocket, highlighting an ass I’d like to sink my nails into.
Jagger Steele is like a Viking god. Tall, strong, built, and you know without a shadow of a doubt he’d protect you by any means possible. What I don’t understand is how the connection we so clearly had at one time was severed without so much as a backward glance from him. I’ve tried to start a conversation about what happened in the past; then again, I broke down. Maybe another time, we can sit down and figure out what transpired.
“Is everything okay?” I ask once he stops moving around. Following him around felt intrusive, though he’d question me about what I wanted here or there. I wish I had grabbed the box of pictures and whatnot as he closes the case to his tablet.
“Yep, why don’t we take this outside?” Jagger must have realized the house started getting to me in the form of fanning myself and wrinkling my nose. “With there being no power, there’s no circulation, and there’s no air conditioning. The water being turned off for who knows how long makes for an unpleasant smell. The fresh air will do us some good.”
“I agree.” As we walk back through the house, Jagger’s hand slides to my lower back, hand wrapping around my hip. I almost freeze on the spot, and it’s only sheer will and determination that make me keep up with him while he guides me. We skirt around the tripping hazards, sharp corners from drywall being ripped apart, and the small table that’s seen better days. When I came back from my car, I left the door open on purpose, a forethought I’m entirely happy about now. The one downfall is losing Jagger’s hand the minute we make it outside.
The breeze from the oak trees calms my heated flesh, and as much as I’d like to say it’s from being inside the too humid house, a lot has to do with the man standing beside me. I look around, trying to keep my gaze from locking with Jagger’s, thinking about where I can place a couple of Adirondack chairs; boy, would I really like them right about now. My body is still protesting after all the work I did yesterday. I’m also beginning to think taking today off from attacking the backyard is a great idea.
“Is it possible to salvage any of the tile in the bathrooms?” I ask, breaking the ice while opening my notebook and looking where I made notes on what I’d like to restore. The mint green and black tile in the front bath is one of them. The light pink and darker hues in the bathroom off the master bedroom is another. When I looked at it with Eleanor, I only spotted a few cracks in some of the pieces. “I’m not looking for perfection,” I tack on in case Jagger thinks I’ve somehow formed two heads.
“Yeah, I’ll make sure the crew knows not to demo those rooms. Are you good with the bathtubs staying the same? Getting the old cast iron tubs out in one piece will be hard to do, and setting a new one up could potentially lead to us needing to remove tile,” Jagger answers right away.
“The tubs are good. I mean, they’ll need a really good scrubbing, but you’re not going to find another well-made tub like that.” I’m not a bath type girlie. I prefer a shower, the hotter the better and stinging like needles because the pressure is that amazing.
“Then you’ll be good. We’ll patch, paint, and fix the walls along with whatever else needs to be done. The next order of business is doing a thorough inspection of the house. Structural, foundation, plumbing, electrical, and roofing.” He looks at me. This is the crappy part of being an adult, and my face must say it all. “I get it. No one likes this part.” You can say that again. I’d much rather see what money is being spent on visually instead of it being out of sight and out of mind.