Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I nod and whisper, “Yes,” even as I add silently, I bet you can manage the rest.
By the time he’s toted me up the driveway and through the backyard and carefully maneuvered my casted leg through the screen door, I’ve decided I want him to “manage” every inch of me. Preferably while I’m naked and not injured or half covered in plaster.
He sets me on the couch, fetches the footstool to prop up my leg, then excuses himself to run back down the driveway and collect my broken wheelchair. He returns a minute later, only slightly breathless from the task, setting it in the corner before turning to face me with his hands propped on his hips. “There you go.”
“Thank you so much,” I say, meaning it.
He smiles, but his eyes narrow as they study my face. “Sure thing. Happy to help.”
I hold his gaze for a beat, watching him watch me with increasing intensity until I finally ask, “Do I have lettuce in my tiara or something?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Sorry, no, I just…” He motions my way. “Now that we’re in the light, you look so familiar. Have we met before?”
I blink, thinking there’s no way in hell I would have forgotten meeting this sex god with perfectly crinkly eyes. Aloud, I say, “No, I don’t think so, but I work at a diner in Mid-City. Eaten breakfast around there lately?”
He shakes his head again, more slowly this time. “No, I haven’t, but I—”
“Clover, are you okay? Barnaby ran up to me at the end of the—” Cristina cuts off, freezing in the front doorway as she spots the hot guy across the room, a bag of ice cream in one hand and Barnaby’s collar in the other. “Dean! Hi, what a surprise.”
She stands, releasing Barnaby as she grins and closes the door behind her.
Barnaby, delighted by his own adventure, trots straight to Dean and shoves his nose into his crotch.
I bite my lip, fighting the urge to laugh.
Same, Barnaby. Would not mind doing the same…
“He saved me,” I inform Cristina as she moves into the room, depositing the bag of ice cream on the coffee table. “I tried to go after Barnaby and ended up stranded at the end of the driveway with a broken wheelchair.”
Cris’s eyes go wide. “Oh, my God! Honey, I’m so sorry. You’re the sweetest, but you shouldn’t have. Barnaby always comes home when he bolts. Always.” She winces. “I should have told you. I feel awful.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “All’s well that ends well, and Dean scared away the crow that was trying to steal my tiara, too, so…”
“Edgar. That shit turd. You poor thing.” Cristina’s jaw drops as she turns to Dean. “Wow. You really are our hero tonight.”
“I was just in the right place at the right time,” Dean says, giving Barnaby one final pat before moving toward the screen door. He glances back at me as he reaches for the handle, “Call me if you need help getting your wheelchair to the medical equipment place to be fixed or swapped out, or whatever. I’ve got a truck, and I’m happy to help.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I tell him, even as the warm, tingly crush feelings intensify to a place that is probably unhealthy for a wounded woman.
He grins. “I know, but it feels good to help, right? Just let me know. Cristina has my number.”
“Thanks so much, Dean. We will.” Cristina follows him, waving him across the backyard before shutting the real door as well as the screen door. She watches him go for a beat before turning back to me with a giddy grin. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, honey, but I’m so glad you met the new neighbor! Isn’t he the hottest thing you’ve ever seen? I swear to God, if I weren’t happily married, I would be on that man like a lioness hunting a gazelle.”
I laugh as I agree, “Crazy hot. And he carried me inside like I was a tiny baby doll human.”
She waves a hand as she hustles back to collect the bag full of ice cream from the table. “Well, you are a tiny baby doll human, girl. And totally gorgeous, but I think he’s too old for you.”
My brows lift. “Yeah? How old is he?”
“In his early thirties, I’m pretty sure,” she says, raising her voice to be heard as she moves into the kitchen, fetching bowls and spoons from the cabinet. “He has two little girls, about three and four years old. He only moved in a couple of months ago, but I’ve been able to deduce that he has partial custody, isn’t dating anyone at the moment, and the divorce is final, so…could be perfect for Cami.”
“Oh, right,” I say, fighting the wave of disappointment rising in my chest. “Yeah, could be. I mean, they both know what it’s like to be single parents.”