Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
The door opens, surprising me because I’m lost in my thoughts.
“Felicity, is everything all right?” Shepherd asks, pushing the screen door open wide as his eyes run over my body.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“What’s wrong? Do you need something?”
I can’t help the giggle that slips out of me at his question. His brow dips and I clear my throat to try and compose myself. “Sorry, umm.” I glance down at my feet for a moment, trying to figure out how exactly to start. I should’ve planned this better.
“You’re making me nervous. Just tell me,” Shepherd says.
I lift my eyes to his and hold out my notepad. “I made some notes about your offer.”
He lifts his lips slightly and steps aside. “I’m intrigued, come in.”
I step into his house and I’m impressed. It’s not at all what I pictured it to look like. It’s welcoming with a cozy, lived-in feel. A comfortable, slightly worn gray couch with a mix of throw pillows sits in front of a coffee table cluttered with magazines and of course coffee mugs. He has a beautiful brick fireplace that stands proud with a large TV mounted above it. There’s a large black microfiber chair that sits next to the fireplace. It looks incredibly comfortable and big enough for two people to enjoy. It’s perfect for snuggling up by a roaring fire.
It’s an open layout so I glance into the kitchen. There’s a small table off to the side, similar to mine, but his kitchen has a beautiful center island that I’m immediately jealous of. There’s open shelving with his coffee mugs displayed. The wood cabinets give a warm feel to the white counters.
It’s a beautiful home and I feel comfortable as I sit down next to him on the couch. I look over at the shelves that are on either side of the fireplace and notice some photos.
“It’s beautiful in here, Shepherd. Not at all what I pictured,” I admit.
“What did you think it looked like?”
I smirk, glancing at the pictures again. “Tell me about those pictures.” They are obviously important to him to have them displayed so proudly.
He leans back, resting his arms on the couch behind us. “I’ll tell you all about them, after you tell me what you thought my house would look like.”
I roll my eyes and hold my notepad closer to my chest. “I thought it would feel cold and sterile, but I was wrong.”
He doesn’t say anything, just gives me a slight nod before looking over at the pictures. “That one on top is my family. That was taken last Thanksgiving. And that picture is of my brothers and myself outside our brewery the day we opened. And that picture,” he points, laughing.
“What’s going on there?” I ask, smiling.
It’s a picture of him, his brothers, and his friends all crammed together to fit in the photo. They are all making ridiculous faces but you can see they were all laughing. It shows me a side of Shepherd I’ve never seen. A carefree, fun-loving, guy.
“That picture was taken a week after we opened the brewery. We celebrated,” he says, smiling at the memory.
“Looks like a good time.”
He nods, focusing his attention back on me. “It was.” He reaches over and rests his hand on my knee and I feel like I could melt into a puddle. “What did you want to discuss?”
Suddenly I remember I’m not here to get a glimpse into his life. I’m here to talk about responsible recycling.
I pull my notepad away from my chest and chew my bottom lip again. “So, I was giving thought to your offer and I think we need to discuss some things.”
His eyes twinkle with mischief as he moves closer. “I don’t need a list of what you like, Felicity. I’ll discover them the fun way.”
My head spins with thoughts of exactly how he’ll discover them, but I close my eyes and sigh. “No.” I snap my eyes open and lock my eyes with his. “This isn’t about feelings, this is about you helping me get relief when I desperately need it. In order for that to happen, we need to remember this isn’t about feelings and a connection.”
His demeanor changes and the grumpy face I’m used to appears. “Rules? You want sex rules?”
I nod. “Yes, exactly. No kissing, no eye contact, and no oral play. This is more of a get-in and get-out type of thing.”
“That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” he says, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“This isn’t about romance, Shepherd. You said yourself, meaningless sex like the first time.”
Honestly, it hurts saying it as much as it hurt hearing it. I thought it meant something, but I was wrong. This is why I need these rules. I was fooled once into believing being with him could be more, I need to protect my heart from that happening again.