Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“My place. I have a guestroom,” he muttered and helped her weave around the crowd.
As he passed the hostess stand, Sheila shot him a questioning look. Not once since he’d taken this job had he left with a customer. He didn’t want to think about how bad it looked as he walked out with his arm around Gabby.
When they reached his Wrangler, he helped her into the passenger seat, grabbed the seatbelt and reached over to buckle her in.
“You’re such a gentleman,” she said, her slur heavier now that she could relax and let the alcohol inside her system take over.
He shook his head. “And you’re lucky I am. Imagine if someone other than me found you tonight.” His hands curled into fists at the thought. He shut her door and came around the driver’s side.
He drove to his house, a fixer-upper on the beach he’d invested a huge chunk of savings in to buy and renovate himself. After his years working on Wall Street, trying to be someone he wasn’t in order to make money to help his parents and younger brother, he’d found himself miserable despite the wealth. He’d retreated from that life and returned to his roots, working with his hands, managing a bar, and feeling better about the man he wanted to be.
Apparently that man had a savior complex when it came to one particular drunk, rich, pretty, young woman. Who knew?
By the time he reached his place, a short ten-minute drive, she’d fallen asleep against the door. He parked in his driveaway and turned off the ignition, climbing out and walking around to the passenger side.
He opened the door, making sure to catch her before she leaned too far outside the car, unbuckled her seatbelt, and lifted her into his arms. Her breasts pressed against his chest, allowing him to feel her curves and imagine those breasts bare, her nipples dusky pink and rigid with need.
Sucking in a sharp breath, he ignored his uncomfortable hard-on and walked the three steps up to the front door. Her eyes opened at the bouncing motion. Emerald-green orbs stared up at him but instead of wariness, he saw more trust, backed up when she didn’t try and wiggle out of his grasp and stand on her own.
Instead, she let out a contented sigh, wrapped her arms around his neck and lay her head against his chest. Desire ramped up inside him, thoughts of peeling off her oh-so appropriate silk top and suckling on her tight nipples rushing through his head.
Fuck.
He was going to hell for the things he wanted to do with the woman in his arms. Even knowing their age difference, he couldn’t convince himself it mattered. Not in his daydreams, anyway. Reality was a whole different ballgame. He was a master at self-control.
Even so, he had no doubt he’d jerk off to that vision in the shower, then toss and turn, the scent of strawberries forever embedded in his brain.
Chapter Two
Gabby woke up to the sun streaming through a window and searing into her eyes. She immediately closed them tight. And as last night came back to her in a technicolor movie-like reel, she groaned. She might have been drunk last night and she was definitely hungover this morning, but she remembered every detail.
She’d been mauled by Preston at her parents’ party, rushed from the house, and ended up at The Back Door where a nice bartender named Cal served her drinks and then he showed up. The man who’d brought her to his house because she’d refused to give him her parents’ address. After consoling herself with the fact that at least she hadn’t thrown up in his car, she forced her eyelids open and blinked into the sun.
She took stock. The headache was to be expected. No nausea, thank God. And she was still in her dress from last night while her shoes were on the floor by the bed. The hot bartender, Maddox, she remembered, hadn’t taken advantage of her. He’d brought her home and taken care of her, making him a decent guy.
There was an old-fashioned shade on the window which hadn’t been rolled down, explaining her bright wakeup call. She looked around and saw bare walls with holes where picture hooks had once been, faded rectangles where pictures once stood.
On the nightstand, she was surprised to find a tall glass of water and two ibuprofen. She was touched by the thoughtful gesture from a stranger whose hospitality she was already taking advantage of, and very grateful. She sat up, immediately swallowing the pills and downing the entire glass of water. With a little luck, between this and some food, she’d get rid of the pounding headache. Once she had a clear head, she’d be able to figure out what to do next.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked around, noticing her purse on the wooden dresser across from her. Her phone was inside it and she wasn’t ready to see the dozens of messages her mother had probably left. Still, she wasn’t a procrastinator and decided it was better to know what awaited her. She retrieved her cell and turned it on, wincing at the text messages, missed calls, and voicemails.