Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
He knew this house. Knew where everything was.
Another mystery solved.
“It was the one you wanted,” he said. “Everything here is what you wanted.”
I knew that, likely better than he did.
“What did you do, look at my Pinterest board?”
He shrugged and I knew that he had.
There was no way that my man would be able to remember everything. The main things, like colors and what kinds of countertops I wanted, sure, but the tiny stuff? The freakin’ rustic light plate covers? Yeah, those he wouldn’t know.
But he had them in this house, and it showed that he paid attention.
Ghost led me into the bathroom, then pulled out his phone and pulled up an app. I watched as he armed the house, then listened as the robotic voice from the front of the house said, ‘system armed.’
My brows rose.
“Don’t want to be stupid here,” he said. “I may know what’s going on, for the most part, but my parents are sneaky little assholes. They have been able to do some things that I would’ve never thought possible.”
I sighed.
“I hate your parents.”
He pressed a button on the shower wall, and the water turned on.
“This bathroom wasn’t my idea, though,” I mused.
He grinned, and I saw a piece of my Tunnel come out to play.
“This was my dream,” he said. “We’re putting one of these in the farm house.”
I rolled my eyes and started to strip, but Tunnel’s big hands stopped me.
“Let me,” he rasped.
I raised my arms and allowed him to pull my shirt up and off me, tossing it to the side of the room where the hamper was. It didn’t make it, and my pens scattered all across the floor, but neither of us made a move to go pick them up.
“Make sure we get those pens out of the laundry basket, or you’ll be getting ink on your pants like the old days,” I teased.
I was notorious for leaving pens in my pockets, and the pen exploding somewhere in the washing process.
Then I’d dry the clothes and permanently set the stains in. I’d ruined many clothes in my time, and a lot of the time they were Tunnel’s.
He grinned.
“I think I could handle having that happen,” he drawled, moving to my sports bra. “Why are you wearing this contraption?”
I grinned.
“I’m all about comfort these days,” I teased.
His eyes brightened.
“Is that why you wear those fucking leggings all the fucking time?” he growled.
I shrugged.
“Maybe.”
He just shook his head.
“Those are not pants, Mina,” He said. “Those are leggings. There is a difference.”
I grinned.
“I noticed that they were leggings, but I don’t see why they can’t be pants, too,” I teased him, then hissing in a breath when he swept his thumbs over my nipples.
He raised one low eyebrow at me as if to say, ‘what was that you were saying?’
I started to laugh, then.
That’d been a tactic he’d used a long time ago.
When I wanted to do something, and he didn’t want me to do it, he’d distract me with sex.
“So you don’t like the leggings?” I asked. “I have over forty pairs of them now.”
His eyes darkened and I reached for his shirt.
He lifted his arms and hunched over, doing it automatically.
See, I was five foot nothing. I literally would have to climb him to get to his head. He’d learned how to compensate for my shortness, and did it now, even after six years, as if it was second nature.
My heart felt full. So freakin’ full it almost hurt.
Almost.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like the leggings,” he grumbled, his hand going to the waistband of my scrub bottoms. “I just think they’re too revealing.”
“I don’t own a single pair of jeans anymore,” I blurted. “Or, at least, none that are with me. I left them all in storage after you…died.”
I wouldn’t own another pair until I had a reason to have them.
His eyes softened. “You’re gonna have to go get them out.” He lifted his hand to my neck and pulled my closer, forgetting that he had a job to do involving my pants. “Because you’re going to be on the back of my bike again, and you’re not going to be wearing leggings when you do it.”
And there was the reason.
Being on the back of his bike again sent a thrill through me that I couldn’t hope to contain. I couldn’t freakin’ wait to get back there. Where I belonged.
“I know, baby,” he growled. “I want you there, too.”
I pushed my own pants down, then slipped off my shoes and socks before kicking the entire pile into the corner of the small bathroom.
“This works for a single person, but this wouldn’t work for us for long,” I told him as I walked to the shower and turned it on. “We take up too much space.”
He laughed and pushed me into the shower before the water had warmed all the way, causing me to screech as the coolness hit my skin.