Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“I could have gotten it another time.” I stand and take the bag from him.
“How’s the unpacking coming along?” He looks past me into the house, and I glance over my shoulder.
“It’s a process.” I place the bag on one of my dining chairs, which is shoved up against the wall. “Hopefully, with the biggest pieces out of here tomorrow, I’ll feel like I’ve made some headway.”
“Did you get a storage unit?”
“Not yet. I’m going to see what I can fit in Liam’s, then figure out what size space I need.”
He nods, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Have you had dinner?” Before I can answer, he continues, “I got a couple of steaks and was going to put them on the grill. You’re welcome to join me.”
“Umm…” I glance behind me at the mess I’ve made. “I really should sort things out.”
My stomach chooses that moment to make a disappointed rumble loud enough for him to hear.
“Come eat. Everything will still be here when you get back.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip before I let it go. “You’re sure you don’t mind me joining you?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I did.” He keeps a straight face and tone when he says it so it doesn’t come off as grouchy as the words might imply.
“Okay.” I shift on my feet and look down at what I have on. I changed into a pair of biker shorts and a tank when I got home since the heat is on, so I will need to wear something warmer if we’re going to be outside. When my eyes lift to his once again, I would swear he was just checking me out. Heat travels up my chest to my cheeks. “I’ll just change, then I’ll be over.”
“Take your time.” He takes a step back and looks down at Gemma. “Come on, girl.” She hesitates, looking between him and me, but when he taps his thigh, she joins him on the front porch.
“Do you want me to bring anything?”
“Just yourself.”
“Cool.” I step up to the door and grab the frame. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
With a jerk of his chin, he turns away, and I shut the door. I head down the hall to my room, flipping on the light as I walk to my closet and open the door.
If Bax was any other guy I was attracted to, I might wear something cute to show I was interested, but he’s not just some other guy. He’s Bax, my brother’s best friend, who likely only invited me over for dinner out of some weird obligation to Liam. So this evening won’t involve the two of us doing anything more than eating together. Which I refuse to admit is kind of a bummer.
After rummaging through my stuff, I pull out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, then quickly change and slip my feet into my Birkenstock clogs. I leave my room, shutting off the light as I go, then walk down the hall to the kitchen.
Since there is no way I can show up empty-handed, even if he said I don’t need to bring anything, I take the strawberries, mini angel food cakes, and whipped cream I bought today out of the fridge and place it all in the shopping bag still on the counter. With my cell phone tucked in my back pocket and my keys and dessert in hand, I leave through the front door and walk across the driveway to his house.
The closer I get, the more nervous I become. But right when I step onto his front porch, Gemma begins to bark from inside, announcing my arrival, so if I thought about taking a minute to pull myself together before knocking, the decision has been made for me. I also notice that sometime between when I got home from work and now, he or someone else has stacked pumpkins on either side of the door. They are not the traditional bright orange ones you’d pick up at the grocery store. His are pretty, in pale oranges, greens, and cream—something someone with an eye for detail would pick… or maybe it was a woman. With a deep breath, I press the doorbell, and a second later, the door opens.
“Hey,” Bax greets, stepping back to let me inside, and I try to ignore how good he looks in his worn blue jeans and washed-out thermal. With the sleeves pushed up just below his elbows, they give me a peek of the tattoos that cover his arms.
“Hey.” I step out of the way so he can shut the door. His house is warm and smells like him and whatever it is he’s cooking, with soft music floating through the air.
“Let me take that so you can give her some attention before she passes out from excitement,” he mutters, taking the bag from me so I can pet Gemma, who is jumping around at my feet.