Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“This woman is talking to me like I’m a fucking idiot,” he snapped.
I snorted. “No comment.”
“You’d better not.”
While I wasn’t able to see behind me, I felt a lot of tugging. I hoped that meant he was getting the hang of it. It was a good thing he couldn’t see the permasmile on my face. I was all too amused by this scenario, and tickled that he’d agreed to go along with it.
“You have way more hair than the model,” he complained. “It’s not really fair. Makes it harder to do it tightly.”
“That’s your excuse?” I scoffed.
“That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.”
“I’m kidding, you know. This isn’t a skill you should ever be expected to have. I can’t imagine my dad French braiding my hair when I was younger. Not sure he could’ve done this if his life depended on it. I give you credit for even trying.”
“You’d be surprised what you can do when you have to,” Evan said.
He kept undoing what he’d started and trying again. And truthfully, I loved every minute of feeling his hands in my hair. If he needed all night to practice, you wouldn’t hear me complain.
After about half an hour of consistent trial and error, he finally said, “Wait. I think I got it.” Then he stilled. “Hang on, actually. I just braided my fingers into your hair.”
I shook with laughter. “That sounds more like it.”
After several more minutes, though, it seemed like things had taken a positive turn. Evan was quieter, swearing under his breath less often. We might’ve been getting somewhere. I closed my eyes for a while and was so relaxed I almost fell asleep.
“Holy shit,” he said. “I think I did it right this time.”
It actually felt pretty tight back there. I handed him my phone. “Take a photo so I can see.”
Evan snapped a picture and handed it back to me. While the braid wasn’t completely symmetrical, it was pretty darn close. Wow. He’d actually done it.
I opened my camera to see what it looked like from the front. “You’ve officially turned me into a character from Little House on the Prairie.” I grinned. “You did it, Evan.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He scratched his chin as he took in the finished product. “I’ve designed complex piping systems for the power plant, and that was way easier than this French-braiding shit.”
I chuckled. “I feel like I can’t take it out now that you’ve worked so hard on it. I might have to go find me a polygamist husband and some sister wives.”
The low rumble of his laughter vibrated through me. It was the first genuine laugh I’d heard since I arrived. I’d missed his laugh. But I needed to quit while I was ahead.
“You should probably get to bed,” I told him. “You have to get up early and do that all over again.”
“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Thank you for letting me practice on you.”
“No problem.” I cleared my throat, his words once again taking my mind to a place I shouldn’t have let it go. Fuck. The butterflies I remembered feeling all those years ago were back in full force tonight. But in what world was it okay to fall for a man who’d already blatantly rejected me?
A little while after I returned to my room, I settled in to check my email before bed.
There was a new message from the property management company.
Dear Ms. Cavanaugh,
We’ve been instructed by the owner of the property you booked to issue you a full refund. We apologize for any confusion over the availability of the house you were assigned. Should you become interested in one of the other properties we manage, please let us know.
Sincerely,
The HR Edwards Property Management Team
***
The following morning, I specifically waited for Evan and Effie to leave before coming out of my room. When Evan didn’t return after forty-five minutes, I felt safe assuming he’d gone straight in to work.
Feeling relaxed, I poured myself some of the coffee Evan had made and prepared it with extra cream and sugar. He’d left the black hoodie he’d been wearing the night before hanging on the chair in the kitchen. It was a bit chilly in the house, so I took the sweatshirt and wrapped it around myself before zipping it up. It enveloped me in the heavenly scent of Evan’s cologne and a delicious aroma that was all his own. My nipples hardened. How pathetic was it to be turned on by a piece of material?
But it wasn’t merely the material, was it? It was him. His essence. The idea of him all over me at a time when my body was starving for contact.
Today was the first day since I’d arrived that I needed to log into my work database. I figured Evan wouldn’t be home for a while, so I set up my laptop on the kitchen table and spread out my stuff.