Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 65354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“Hi,” he replied.
I smiled as he held the door wide for me to walk inside, touching my lower back as I passed him. “It smells amazing in here.”
“Ah, yes. You were probably wondering if I was going to prepare the meal,” he chuckled, and I looked around the cozy living room with a smile. “My mom taught me how to make enough to survive to be a bachelor. I think I might even impress you a bit.” I froze at his next words. “You look beautiful tonight, Elyse.” The way my name sounded on his lips made me shiver as I slowly turned to look at him.
“You look good yourself.” Ryder dressed in worn jeans and a fitted T-shirt, and while it was casual, it managed to show off his incredible body to perfection.
“Casual. I told you I wanted to keep this low key.” He smiled and took my hand, leading me to the kitchen and getting me settled in a barstool. “Would you like some wine?”
“Just a splash. I’m driving.” The look he gave me assured me that he’d prefer me to stay the night, and I furiously blushed as I looked down at the granite counter.
“Is white okay?” he asked, and I nodded.
He poured white wine into a large glass and slid it over to me with a raise of his eyebrow.
I took it and he offered his beer bottle for a toast, smiling as we clinked the glass together. He finished dinner and I watched as he pulled something from the oven that appeared to be miniature versions of a pot pie. There were four of them and while they looked small, the scent surrounding me indicated that they were full of seasoned meat at the very least.
“What is that?” I asked, missing the familiar smell of the sauce and vegetables I was used to.
“Ramekin tourtières. It’s something my mom would often make for me since it was my favorite. It’s filled with pork, potatoes, and the best seasonings you’ve ever had.” He smiled, and I nodded as he left the pies to cool down. He pulled a large bowl of salad from the fridge as I looked on with an impressed smile.
“This looks so good.” I helped him take everything to the table with excitement and blushed as he pulled out a chair for me. We smiled across the table at each other, and he told me to dish up my plate. I helped myself to one of the pies and cut it with my fork, seeing how flaky it was. I left it to cool for a moment and took a bite of the salad filled with crisp vegetables. “Perfect.”
“I wanted tonight to be special for you.”
I stared at him as he smiled at me, embarrassed by the attention. “I’m just me, Ryder.”
“You’re a special woman. I knew it from the first time I saw you,” he said.
I was relieved when he pulled his attention away and started to eat his food with enthusiasm. It was delicious, and I pushed away my plate after finishing one tourtière and some salad as he demolished his second pastry.
“I am stuffed. I’ll never eat again.” I closed my eyes and leaned back against the cushioned chair with a smile. Looking back, I realized that no man had ever done anything like this for me.
“Are you sure? I’ll probably have the last one for a midnight snack. They’ve been working us nearly to death the last week or so.” Ryder laughed, and I opened one eye to watch him eat. I could tell that he was in excellent shape and tried to imagine his workouts. “Let me clean this up and we’ll enjoy some drinks on the couch.”
“I’ll help.” I stood, and we ended up washing the dishes before heading into the living room. I gazed around the spacious room and let Ryder lead me to a plush black couch in front of a massive TV. I had a fresh glass of wine and sipped it nervously as his body heat warmed me through our clothes. Ryder found something on TV, though I wasn’t aware of what it was. I was too wrapped up in how he felt pressed against me.
I took a small sip from the glass before leaning forward to place it on the table in front of me. I stayed there for a moment until Ryder set his beer beside the glass. “Come here, Elyse.”
“Okay.” I moved back and found his arm draped on the cushion behind me, pulling me closer once I settled in.
“Thank you for coming over.” His words were low, and I gazed up at him in the dim light from the screen. Ryder had only left a light on in the kitchen, and the room was on the darker side and heavy with the sexual tension between us.