Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Thanks.” I don’t want to move yet, so I don’t. It feels good to soak him in. “This is really nice.”
“Sometimes, a person just needs a hug.” I feel him grin against my head.
I don’t remember the last time someone other than Aunt Paula hugged me. I never really thought of it.
“I hope I didn’t get you out of bed.” His heart beats steadily next to my ear, and his chest is firm under his soft T-shirt.
“Nope.” He stops rocking. “Where’s Lily?”
“Asleep on the bed. Snoring.”
“Definitely not a guard dog.”
I chuckle and pull back, smiling up at him. “No, she’s not. I’m sorry for the false alarm, but I’m definitely not sorry for the hug.”
“I don’t like that you were scared.” He reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear in that way he does that sends little zings down my arm. “Out of curiosity, is that what you sleep in?”
“Huh?” I drop my gaze to take in my tank and shorts. “Oh, yeah. Not terribly sexy, I know.”
“Right. Sure.” Chase shakes his head and chuckles. “Okay, I’d better head out, unless you want me to stay.”
“There’s no need. Thanks again for coming all this way.”
“I’m only four blocks away, you know. It’s a small town.” He winks, and then he’s out the door and headed down to his truck.
Well, now I know that I’m not irresistible. He had me in his arms, mostly naked, and didn’t make a move to even kiss me.
With a shrug, I lock the door and head back to bed. Lily’s exactly where I thought she would be, in the middle of the bed, sprawled on her back, snoring happily. I usually put her down in her own dog bed on the floor at night, but she can stay up here with me tonight.
I want to snuggle.
I didn’t tell anyone that I was going on this date with Chase tonight because they’d hype it up and make me even more nervous than I already am.
I don’t need any help in that arena.
Since we’re going to have dinner and drinks at the bar, I decided to keep it casual, with a simple blue sundress and sandals. And when I open the door to Chase, who insisted on picking me up, I see I made the right choice because he’s in those delicious jeans that hug his ass in just the right way, and a green Henley.
“Wow,” he says. “You look amazing.”
“Aw, thanks. So do you.” I step out with him and walk beside him down the sidewalk to his truck. “What did you do today? Did you work?”
“I have a few days off, so I got started on Erin’s bar for the wedding. Helped Remington with some work on the ranch and played with the kids for a while. How was work for you today? No, wait.” He opens the door for me, then circles around to the other side. “Let me guess. It was busy.”
“Extra busy today,” I reply with a nod. “Half of the order I placed for a wedding on Saturday didn’t come in. So, I had to call around frantically to find the flowers we need, have them overnighted, and pray they all arrive in one piece.”
“Damn, that sucks.”
“Big time. It’s wedding season. And this bride wanted a whole bunch of freesia.”
“I don’t even know what that looks like,” Chase admits, making me laugh.
“They’re a pretty purple flower. Delicate. And they smell good. But they’re not as easy to get in as quickly as, say, roses. But we’ll make it work. I have some ideas up my sleeve if the flowers don’t arrive in time.”
He parks in front of The Wolf Den, and Chase escorts me inside where a Sidney Sterling song—my favorite country artist—is playing through the speakers, and plenty of the tables are already taken.
I like the atmosphere in here. It’s laid-back, but it’s not a dive. The food’s good, and it’s clean, with fun, old-timey photos on the walls from days in Bitterroot Valley long ago.
“I’m seating you at your grandpa’s table,” the hostess informs Chase. “He’ll be watching you, so be good.”
“Great,” Chase says with a laugh, and we slide into opposite sides of a booth. On the wall is a picture of a man with a rifle and a big, dead bear.
“Is that your grandfather?” I ask him, gesturing to the photo.
“Yep. That’s him. It was taken on the ranch a long time ago.”
“Hey there, what can I get you to drink?” our server, Pete, asks as he places two coasters on the table and winks at me. “Huck margarita for you, Summer?”
“I’m really predictable,” I say with a laugh and then shrug. “Yes, please, because they’re delicious.”
“I’ll just take a beer,” Chase replies. “Blue Moon, if you have it.”
“Sure thing. Do you need a minute with the menus?”