Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“I need to get up,” he grumbled against my neck. “Can’t move.”
“Do you have to go into work today?” I asked.
“Not till late afternoon. I just have to close.”
“Tell you what,” I said, gently moving him off me. “Let’s shower again and grab the box. We’ll take it to the bank, then I’ll treat you to brunch at the Pinecone.”
Once we were in the shower doing a quick wash, Augie looked up at me bashfully through wet lashes.
“Did we seriously just have sex three times in one morning?”
His cheeks were already pink from the hot water, but they deepened to a darker shade.
“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m going to make it four,” I promised.
Chapter 31
Augie
The next couple of days were a dreamscape of flirting with Saint Wilde during impromptu “self-defense lessons” and daydreaming of him during my time at the shop. He was busy covering extra classes at Twist for Neckie and visiting his new niece on the side.
Our time at Twist in the evenings was more touching and horny wrestling than actual self-defense, but somehow those sessions left me feeling stronger and lighter at the same time. Simply being around the baby-faced SEAL made me feel alive in a way I never had before. It may have been corny and cheesy, but it was still true.
With the USB drive tucked safely away in a secure cubby at Hobie First National and the writing slope itself locked in Melody’s ground safe in the barn, I finally had a sense of peace I hadn’t had before, and the couple of nights Saint stayed over at the farmhouse with me had gone a long way toward helping me get used to sleeping in my own bed again.
We’d had a conversation about what to do regarding the information inside the box, but ultimately I’d decided to take a few days to think on it. The last thing I wanted to do was rush into confronting my family directly against my grandfather’s wishes. And now that Brett thought I no longer had the box, maybe I was safe after all.
As for Saint, I wasn’t quite sure what was happening.
There were two sides of myself at war. Part of me fantasized that Saint and I were in the early stages of an actual relationship. When he was around, he showered me with attention and treated me like a unique treasure. We talked for hours about anything and everything—his time in the navy, my time in school and working at the auction house, our families, our favorite movies and music. But then there was the part of me that knew the truth. Saint Wilde couldn’t possibly be the type of guy to settle for one man, and if he was, that man certainly wouldn’t be a small nerd with a penchant for spewing obscure facts about seventeenth century table leg shapes. Someone like Saint would want a beautiful international fashion model or a strong, brave soldier type like himself. Regardless, he’d choose someone with confidence and poise, not a man who was scared of his own shadow and who thought rifling through dusty estate sales was the best thing ever.
The “fantasy boyfriend Augie” waited for calls and texts, swooned when Saint stopped by the shop with a mocha and biscotti from Sugar Britches “just because,” and felt unsteady cardiac rhythms when awaking in the warm protective circle of Saint’s arms.
The “lame-ass geek Augie” hid behind a giant plastic pumpkin to avoid running into Saint when he was spotted with his grandfathers outside of Ritches Hardware, idly wondered what other gay men in Hobie Saint was hooking up with when he wasn’t with me, and felt absolute certainty this whole thing was a mental fabrication and proof my mental capacity was slowly but definitively running off the rails.
It wasn’t until Friday morning that Geek Augie began to wonder if Boyfriend Augie might actually become a reality.
“Will you please come to the ranch for dinner with my family tomorrow night?” Saint asked from his spot next to the Edwardian stand mirror behind my checkout counter. He’d stopped in after finishing an early kickboxing class that had left him deliciously flushed and sweaty.
“What?” I asked. The sight of him was so distracting, I thought he’d invited me to meet the family.
“Family dinner tomorrow. Will you please come?”
Huh? I tilted my head at him. Surely, he hadn’t meant to ask me that. I needed to stall him to give my brain time to process.
“I thought the Halloween bonfire was tomorrow?”
Saint nodded, a lock of his blond hair falling over one eyebrow. “No, that’s next weekend. Grandpa always runs a chili test night the weekend before, but we do have our own Wilde bonfire at the ranch on chili night.”
My pulse sped up. “Are you… are you asking me to…”