Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Yes, we will!” Tisha answers back.
“Fine. You’re off the hook, but I fully expect to be in the car with you in December when it’s time to head up the mountain!”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Love you.”
“Love you, bye.” I hang up, finally looking to Brady to find his lips pinched to the side. “Go ahead, Big Guy, let it all out.”
He does laugh then, putting his arm around my shoulders and hooking my neck in the crook of his arm. “Looks like it’s a T-shirt dress in November for you. You’re going to freeze your nipples off, summer queen.”
“Brady!” his mom chastises. “You leave the poor girl’s nipples alone. Last thing a girl wants is to have her headlights on during the daytime.”
My cheeks are flaming, and Brady gives me a little shake.
“Hey, Mama, you got the ornaments dangling from your headlights yet?”
My eyes snap toward him, narrowing on the side of his face.
“Don’t be silly.” She waves him off. “It’s not even December, but I’ll get them on.”
“You could put them on now.”
I elbow him in the ribs in warning.
He ignores me, his tone silk fucking smooth as he says, “Cammie Baby, don’t you like it when ornaments stay on headlights all year long?”
His mom looks over curiously, and my mouth opens and closes as Brady tries to hide his laughter in my hair.
Tisha tips her head in thought. “You know what? You’re right. Maybe I’ll get me some of those little eyelashes to keep on year-round. Thanks for the idea!” She walks away, none the wiser that her son’s coarse hands have warmed my nipples.
Brady’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, and I pull from his hold.
“I hate you,” I hiss.
He slips up behind me, those big, strong arms coming around my waist, and he tucks his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie I’m wearing. His palms press into my lower stomach, and his shoulders are so wide compared to my own that he engulfs me completely, drowning me in his rich and spicy scent.
His lips find my ear. “No, you don’t,” he whispers, and I bite at the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
No, I really, really don’t…
It seems being home has brought back the more playful Brady, the one that’s been a little MIA as of late. I almost forgot the powers of his charm.
Or maybe it’s just never hit the same as it does now…
I toss and turn for the millionth time, yanking the covers up over my head with a low groan just as there’s a quick knock on the door, but he doesn’t wait for me to respond before he’s throwing it open.
“Oh, Cammie Baby,” he singsongs, and I groan again.
Brady laughs and then the entirety of his weight settles over me.
“Go away, you big brute. You’re gonna suffocate me,” I whine, holding the blankets tight over my head because I know what comes next.
Sure enough, his fingers fold over the edge, and he tugs it down, forcing me to squint at the bright-ass room around me.
I pout and he smiles, all big and bright and Brady-like.
“Morning.”
“What time is it?”
“Little after nine.”
I’m already whining, pulling the blankets back up, but he doesn’t let me, his grip tightening as he shifts his weight and swings his feet over the edge of the bed.
I look over, seeing he’s already dressed and freshly showered like a psycho. “Who is dressed and ready this early on a Saturday?”
As if on cue, Tisha pokes her head in, smiling brightly. “Oh good, he listened.” She beams, her little Suzy Homemaker self already as perfect as ever, hair blown out, makeup in place, and a cute little sweater dress on, with an apron wrapped around her waist. “Breakfast will be ready in twenty. Just waiting for my hash-brown pie to brown so I can start the eggs.”
She disappears, and I sulk some more.
Brady chuckles, smacking my blankets as he climbs to his feet. “I’m going with my dad to pick up some firewood down the street, but we’ll be right back. Raid my drawers for something to wear and don’t judge if you find some dirty magazines hidden in any.”
“Oh, please. Me and Ari found you guys’ stash under Chase’s deck storage when we were, like, fifteen.”
“What?!” He gapes. “I gotta tell the boys. We always thought his mom found ’em and never said a word!” He’s already moving into the hall as he says it, his phone in his hand.
My lips curve, but then I remember it’s early and I’m tired, so I let out one last internal cry for my sleepless night, and I climb from the bed to hit the shower.
With a time limit on my head and the real Donna Reed downstairs, I make quick work of getting ready. Not like it’s hard with limited options and zero makeup or skin care products.