Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Then, roaring with laughter, he stood from his stool, bent low to me, grasped my head in both hands, tipped it to his, and still laughing, stated, “We go any slower, lil’ mama, we’ll connect when we’re eighty.”
I could feel my cheeks were aflame, and I had proof they were when his dancing eyes fell to them, and that was embarrassing, but I had to dig deep to my never very stocked reserves of bravery and sally forth.
“I just…just…just…”
Gah!
Get it together, Harlow! Just put it out there.
I drew in a breath and said, “Okay, full disclosure, I really like you and I just want that, when it happens, to be special.”
Mr. Hold Nothing Back didn’t hold back what my words meant to him (that helped with the nerves…a little).
He did this visibly.
He also did it audibly.
“Goin’ on record here to tell you what happened earlier is already special,” he said in a gentle voice, and it was good he had his hands on me, or I’d have swooned right off the stool. “But I hear you, mi pequeña, and I’ll have a mind.”
“O-okay,” I whispered.
His eyes got soft and smiled before his mouth did it. Both were magnificent. He dipped in, brushed his lips against mine, then went back to his stool.
One would think this would make a girl a lot less nervous. But it didn’t.
Because I really liked him.
We had things to discuss, but so far, being with Javi was everything, and now not only because of the impact it would have on our crew, but also for me, I didn’t want anything messing it up.
We finished breakfast, and Javi told me he’d clear up while I got ready for work.
I did a wee bit of snooping when I got upstairs, opening the doors to the other rooms (there were two more bedrooms, both a lot smaller than his, one with nothing in it, one with a bunch of boxes and other stuff stacked in a corner, and the last room was a bathroom).
My suitcases were in Javi’s bedroom.
So the nerves that had receded came back.
I opened both my cases and discovered the heretofore unknown power of packing Jessie and Shanti had, because they had me totally covered.
I took everything I could possibly need to get ready into the bathroom, closed the door and looked in the mirror.
Okay, good to know.
My setting spray had magical powers. I’d never tested it to this extreme, but my makeup still looked fab.
That was a relief.
I made note of this, then commenced powering through a major freakout when I was showering in Javi’s shower, seeing Javi’s shampoo and bodywash, finding this weirdly meaningful, at the same time having visions in my head of Javi showering in this shower.
His big, strong body all slick and wet and soapy.
These thoughts led me to taking the shortest shower in my life so I didn’t work myself up to breaking my own rule, very recently laid down, about taking things slow.
I did the body lotioning, hair and makeup thing, dressed fully and took everything of mine out of the bathroom into the bedroom.
I had to swallow a scream when I saw Javi lounged in bed. He was on his phone, his back to the headboard, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, the delicious acres of skin he was presenting on marvelous display.
I had to tamp down another urge to break my rule about taking things slow.
He looked at me. He looked at the stuff in my arms. He looked at my suitcases open on the floor. He looked at me again.
He then said, “You can leave your shit in the bathroom.”
Um…
“I think I should—” I began.
I didn’t get any further because, while I was speaking, he angled off the bed, sauntered to me, got very close, and he said, “No. We’re on a roll. We’ll talk about this later.”
He then ran a finger from the dent between my collarbones up my throat to the point of my chin, all while I held my breath, before he walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
I expelled that breath, put all my stuff in my suitcases, zipped them up, righted them and rolled them to stand beside the door.
I knew he wanted me to stay.
But I could barely get through a shower without losing my resolve to spend time getting to know him better, getting more comfortable with him, and definitely having the conversation we needed to have about all the hurtful things he said to me, before we got seriously busy.
I mean, I was sensing I understood what was behind all he’d said.
But he had to share it.
I went downstairs to find that he did, indeed, clear up. The coffeemaker was sparkling clean. There were no crumbs or sesame seeds from the bagels on the counter.