Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“Don’t say that. I can do so much better.”
I don’t speak. Ozzy just planted a new garden of possibilities, and with so many inappropriate images in my head, I can’t think of words.
“I want to kiss you,” he whispers.
Heat crawls up my neck. “You’re being cruel because you can’t deliver, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Good,” he whispers. “I don’t want you to stop thinking about it.”
I step closer, again checking on Lola. “I didn’t even make it home last night,” I murmur so only Ozzy can hear me. “I went straight to my car and touched myself.”
Ozzy blinks several times. Then his gaze inspects the stairway followed by Lola’s room. His lips twist, eyes narrowed, and he steps past me to her doorway. “Lola, it’s time for you to take a bath.”
“No! Bandit just got here.” She plucks the kitten from the pile of stuffed animals on her bed and hugs him.
“Fifteen minutes,” Ozzy says.
“Dad! It’s not even seven thirty.”
Ozzy sighs. “Fine. I’ll give you twenty minutes.”
“Thirty,” she counters.
“Twenty-five.”
“Fine,” she grumbles.
Ozzy turns, jerking his head to his left. I hesitate for a second before following him. He opens the door to a windowless room with a mirror on one wall and exercise equipment lining the other three walls.
“I already exercised,” I say.
He shuts the door after I step into the room. “Lola won’t leave that room until I drag her out. And her grandparents won’t come downstairs until nine to tell her good night. So we have time.”
“To exerci—”
Ozzy cups my face and kisses me. He pulls back and grins. “To kiss,” he whispers, sliding his lips from my mouth to my ear. “To touch.” He laces his fingers with mine and kisses my neck. “To dream.”
I smile, eyes closed. “Tell me about the dream.”
“I get you to myself. No disruptions. No curfews. For a whole night.”
Releasing his hands, I rest mine on his chest as he lifts his head. “How do we make that happen?” I ask.
His brow tightens. “I don’t know.”
“Tia seems . . .”
“Bitter. Harsh. Unbendable.”
I nod several times. “But why? Was Brynn’s death your fault?”
“No. It’s guilt by association.” His fingertips ghost along my jaw as he bends to brush his lips over mine. “But I don’t want to talk about her when we don’t have much time.”
I nip at his lower lip. “Then what do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t think we should talk at all. Someone could hear us.” He kisses me again, flicking his tongue against mine.
“He pooped!” Lola yells. “Good job, Bandit!”
Ozzy sighs, resting his forehead against mine. “I’m never going to have sex again.”
I shake with suppressed laughter.
“But you should,” he says. “You deserve a guy who has a future beyond vomit, poop, and penance for his past.”
My hands frame his stubble-covered face. “Ask her if she’s ready to take a bath.”
He squints at me.
“Just do it.”
Ozzy cracks open the door. “Lola, are you ready for your bath?”
“No! It hasn’t been that long. You said twenty-five minutes!” She slams her door shut.
Ozzy closes the door to the exercise room. Then I push his chest until his back hits it.
He lifts a single brow. “What are you—”
“Sit.”
“On the floor?”
I nod.
He slides down the door, and it makes me giggle because it’s so slow. When his butt touches the floor, he stretches out his legs, and I straddle them and sit on his lap.
“You make me feel sixteen,” I say wrapping my arms around his neck. “Nervous. Shaky. Shivers down my spine. And don’t even get me started on butterflies.”
Ozzy wets his lips, rubbing them together. “We’re adults hiding from a ten-year-old. You left through my window after said ten-year-old puked. That gives you butterflies?”
I smile, brushing my nose against his. “What’s the next flower? Or vegetable? It’s asparagus season.”
“I’ve created a monster.” He chuckles. “What if there are no more flowers? No more cards? Will the butterflies die?” He pecks at my lips.
I lean in for more than a peck, prolonging our tiny stolen moment. Ozzy’s hand cups the back of my neck while his tongue teases mine. He weaves his fingers into my hair.
As a young girl, I dreamed of flying in the clouds more than I thought about boys’ kisses, love notes, and flowers. Either my heart is bigger than I ever imagined, or Ozzy Laster is stealing it from my first love.
He ghosts his lips from my mouth to my ear. “I’m so unprepared for you,” he whispers.
I sigh while settling into him.
“My neighbor has them in his yard,” Ozzy says.
“Has what?” I sit up.
He leans to the side just enough to pull a piece of paper from his pocket—a folded note.
My heart can’t take this level of romance as he offers it to me with a single-shoulder shrug.
I open it.
Yarrow is a medicinal herb with delicate clusters of flowers that attract bees and butterflies. Hope you love them!