Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77611 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77611 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
As if on cue, the song’s chorus starts to play.
Good as gold
Trade you all my money for your gold.
Worship you cause honey you’re like gold
He’s kept other people at arm’s length for a long time. Determined to prove he isn’t like his father. It sounds like a lonely life. I find myself wanting to help him connect with his brother. I know opening that door would give him a large, interfering family who will make sure he’s never lonely again. Even if we didn’t have more than this weekend, he would still have that. He deserves to have other people see how wonderful he is.
Oh, Winnie. You’ve got it so bad.
He’s staring at my mouth, and it’s turning me on again. After what we did in the shower earlier, and then again on the bed, I’m surprised I can walk, let alone think of jumping on for another ride. This is so much more than “the normal amount” of hooking up, I’m not sure what to do with it all.
Enjoy it?
That goes without saying.
“I got those DVDs from a friend in Istanbul,” he confesses with a rueful look. “I mentioned Serkan and Eda and he knew exactly what I was talking about. Watching it made me remember your language fetish. And what I said to you that night.”
“I thought of you when I rewatched it too. He reminded me of you.” As we sway, I lift a finger to his furrowing brow. “The forehead. The intensity.”
His forehead intensifies. “I’m nothing like that character.”
I bite my cheek to stop my smile. “Are so.”
“I’m not that OCD. I wouldn’t make those decisions. Except for the handcuffs. I’d definitely put you in handcuffs to keep you around.”
“She put the handcuffs on him.”
“Sure. The first time.”
I smirk. “You have to see the resemblance, Michael. You’re both wealthy Turkish dudes. You both cook and you’re incredibly close with your mothers. You’re both sexy. You both have dogs. His is bigger than both of yours put together, but still.”
“You think he’s sexy?”
That’s what he focused on? “He doesn’t like desserts and he isn’t real, so there’s no comparison.” I rub myself against his growing erection. “He’s also nowhere near as impressive as you are. You win.”
“You’re forgiven. And I’m only half Turkish. The other half is Colorado rancher.”
Yes, yes, you’re perfect. Keep rubbing it in.
I laugh and rest my head on his chest. This conversation shouldn’t be a turn-on, but it is. He watched a show I mentioned in passing because it reminded him of me. “Your hard coating hides a mushy, marshmallow center, Michael Demir.”
“I’m not the one who reads and watches romance on a regular basis.”
I lift my head, a little insulted. “I read and watch other things, but I’m trying to stay current. For the children. Do you have any idea how many of the girls in my last class suddenly became A students after learning I’d read a certain dragon academy series? An alarming number, Michael. That’s how many. They don’t share my love of history, but they really do like girls with powers, knives and dragons getting the dangerous broody bad boy.”
“You don’t like this?” He pulls me closer and does a half spin, lifting me enough that my feet barely touch the ground. “It doesn’t make you want more?”
Even when we stop, the room still feels like it’s spinning. “I’ll take more of you, Michael Demir. Anytime you’re ready for me.”
Heat sparks in his eyes and he lowers my feet to the ground, his head dipping closer just as a timer goes off.
“Give me a minute,” he says, his voice full of dark promise even as he lets me go to take a pan out of the oven.
Is this a low point in my experiment with dating? I offer sex and get abandoned for baked goods? I wonder if there’s a thread on Reddit for that. “Why are we making all these puff balls again? I thought you had enough to do with your hands.”
He laughs. “I have to make close to four hundred for the two croquembouches. We’re preparing the pâte à choux first. Then I’ll make the crème pâtissière for the filling. I won’t put them together until I get them to the lodge kitchen tomorrow. The weather should have cleared up by then. I’m guessing I’ll just make the caramel on site.”
I shake my head in confusion and, oddly, arousal. Cream filling and caramel. Mmm. Then what he’s saying registers. Four hundred puffs and he’s making the caramel at the lodge. “You’re baking for the party?”
“I am.”
“Don’t they have chefs for that?” And oh my giddy Chenoweth, didn’t that sound privileged? “I just meant, you’re Bellamy’s guest. His brother.”
Michael’s smile is strained. “I’m a guest of Seamus. Bellamy wasn’t the one who invited me, remember? And we’re still working on what to call ourselves. But my new niece and nephews tried one of my cakes a few weeks ago, and when they found out I was coming, they asked me to make something special for their grandparents’ anniversary. I couldn’t say no to that. Since I haven’t met most of their family yet and as I told you, I’m not that good around people, I thought it might be an icebreaker as well.” He shrugs. “Or a reason for me to stay in the kitchen and out of the way, depending on how things go. I was going to bring those macarons too until—”