Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“I think you’re tired, and this is probably adding to all of the stress you’ve had over the past month, so I’m not going to take offense to that. But I will tell you, truthfully, that I haven’t brought any women here. I keep things casual, and I don’t bring hookups to my home.”
“Oh.”
“And before you say it and piss both of us off, no. You’re not a hookup, you’re not casual. So, I’m going to put you in that bath so you can relax. What do you want to eat?”
“How do you know that I’m hungry?”
He wipes a tear away and smiles softly. “Because I just do. What do you want? I’ll order in anything that you’re in the mood for.”
“I want you to just order something and not make me choose.”
“Okay. I’ll wing it.” He tugs my shirt up over my head and tosses it in the hamper. Then he works my leggings down my legs, and they follow the shirt.
After he has my bra and panties taken care of, he leads me to the tub and helps me inside, and when the hot water envelops me, I sigh.
And my eyes fill with tears again.
“Cry if you need to,” he says softly, which only makes me even more gooey. “I’m right here. I’m gonna go order some food, and I’ll be right back.”
I’m too tired to even answer him when he walks away. This tub is nice. It’s big enough for about three people.
Okay, really it’s only big enough for me and Xander because he’s a big guy.
I use the shower gel on the ledge and wash my bits, then lean back and soak. I must drift a little because I wake up to Xander grabbing a fluffy blue towel off a warming rack, and he helps me out of the water and wraps it around me, hugging me to him.
“How did that feel?”
“So nice.”
“Good.” He peppers kisses over my face and then helps me get dry.
I step into fresh underwear and sweats, but when he holds out one of my own T-shirts, I shake my head.
“Can I have one of yours?”
His face softens. “Of course.”
Xander disappears for about twenty seconds and returns with a simple black T-shirt, and when he tugs it over my head, I inhale, pulling the scent of him into my lungs, and it immediately soothes me.
He grabs my hairbrush and then leads me out of the bathroom. I see that all my shopping bags are lined up tidily in the closet, and I bite my lip. He guides me into the living room, where he has a bunch of fluffy blankets set out—blankets that weren’t here this morning—and gestures for me to have a seat.
“Let’s get cozy, Red.”
Before he can sit with me, the doorbell rings, and he rushes off to take care of the food. I hear him murmuring, the door closing, and then he joins me, holding a pizza box in one hand and a bag of Chinese food in the other.
“I got options,” he says. “I’ll get plates, and we can have either or both.”
I’m wrapped up in the coziest blanket I’ve ever had the pleasure of touching. In fact, this man keeps buying me blankets like that’s his whole fucking job in life.
He treats me like I’m a queen. Like I’m the most important person ever born.
When he returns, he’s armed with plates and cutlery, but I’ve already pulled out a slice of pizza and am chowing down.
He grins.
“Good?”
“Smm gmff.”
Xander laughs, and I grin at him as he loads some General Tso’s on his plate and digs in. We sit in silence as we eat, watching each other.
I love this living room. Xander must have a thing for views because the Montana house has stunning mountain scenery.
This penthouse has similar floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over Denver, and the city lights are so beautiful at night. He has this room dimmed, the gas fireplace is crackling, and my emotions are leveling out.
“Better?” he asks.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. I think I was a little overwhelmed.”
I toss my crust in the box, and Xander looks scandalized.
“You don’t eat the crust?”
“Um . . . no?”
“No coffee, no crust, you’re an alien.”
I snort out a laugh, and Xander sets his empty plate aside and then scoots in behind me and picks up my hairbrush.
Methodically, he runs the bristles through my hair, and it’s so fucking good.
“You can do that every day.”
“Deal,” he says immediately. “It soothes me.”
That surprises me.
“Really?”
“Hmm. I like the movement, and the way your hair feels in my hands. But then again, just having you anywhere near me is soothing.”
“Same.”
He wraps his arms around me and kisses my cheek before returning to the brushing.
Then he sets it aside and scoots so he’s sitting next to me, looking at his watch.
“Ten, nine, eight—”