Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Mrs. Claws has moved to sit on the dining room table to watch the man work. I decide that I should make him something to drink. I’m not used to having people over, so I don’t know what one does to be cordial and polite. I’ll make him a hot chocolate because it’s freezing out, and the poor, foolish man doesn't have anything to keep him warm.
I get to work on his hot chocolate while randomly checking my phone to see if maybe Brendan texted me, but there’s nothing. I debate texting him, but, again, I don’t want to be clingy. Remember when I said I would stop obsessing about it? That didn’t work. He’s a damn stalker, and I’m over here worrying about being clingy. This sounds like a fair trade-off to me. The microwave dings. I pull the hot chocolate out and take it into the living room. It looks like the Pet Place guy is setting up both of the Christmas cat houses here. Maybe I should tell him that the other one goes next door. Being a brat, I keep my mouth shut. If Brendan wants his Christmas house, he should have been here to tell this guy where to put it instead of doing whatever it is he’s doing across the street.
“That’s sweet of you.” The man stands and takes the mug from me. His one eye blinks at me again all funny.
“You sure you don’t want my eyewash?” I ask again. I hate when I get something itchy in my eyes. It’s worse during Christmas because I get carried away with glitter, and that stuff gets everywhere.
“You are cute, aren't you?” He smiles at me as he sips his drink.
I shift from one foot to the other, not sure what to say. I wipe my face, thinking maybe there’s something on it. The silence grows. He sets the mug on the coffee table. I’m already uncomfortable with a stranger in my house, but I continue to try to keep my cool. I can do this.
“You’re a chatty one.” He laughs as he drops back down onto the floor to start working on the cat houses again. What does that mean? No one was even talking. Why are people so difficult?
“Like the view?” He turns to look at me.
“I’m not looking at anything.”
This guy is odd. Why is it that everyone thinks I’m the weird one?
“You sure about that?” He does another one of those weird blinks. This time I don’t offer him any eyewash. Instead, I go over to the window and look out. I guess maybe I was staring. I keep looking over at Brendan’s house.
I gasp when I see him heading my way. I jump away from the window, not wanting to get caught peeking over at him. I trip over my own feet and fall backward. I close my eyes knowing I’m going to hit the ground but instead I fall into a body. With a grunt the man catches me.
“You don’t have to throw yourself at me,” the man says with a chuckle. “I’m more than willing to have a little fun with you. Even if you’re obsessed with eye wash and more than a little weird.” I’m the weird one? At least I don’t have an eye twitch. This guy should really see a doctor.
“Let her go.” I look over to see Brendan standing in my doorway, a blast of frigid air whipping in behind him.
I almost didn’t recognize his voice. Brendan’s eyes are trained on shaggy-eye-twitch dude who still has me in his hold.
“Now!” Brendan barks. The man lets me go and backs away from me.
I almost stumble again, but Brendan pulls me into his arms.
“The only thing stopping me from coming for you is her. If I were you, I’d run,” Brendan says.
“He’s not done with the houses.” I point to the cat houses he was putting together. Wait, they do look done. Before I can comment any further, the delivery man takes off out the door.
I cock my head at Brendan. “Why would you come for him? Poor man has a serious eye problem.” I turn in Brendan’s arms, looking up at him. “Do you have a violent side like Laura? She jokes she wants to murder people all the time. I’m still not sure if it’s a joke or not.”
He doesn't answer me. He just kisses the top of my head before letting me go and heading to the front door.
“You’re leaving?” I hate that my voice comes out whiny. God, I am pathetic. He shuts the door and flips the lock with a look of determination on his face.
“No,” he says before he walks toward me as if he’s on a mission. He lifts me into his arms. My back hits the wall as he kisses me deeply. His hands and mouth are everywhere as he devours me. He feels so good, and heat sparks all over me in little waves that build with each stroke of his tongue.