Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
She’s here to relax with me.
Just thinking about her is like taking a shot of happiness, which is funny considering she was so not happy when I met her. But now that I’ve gotten to know her better, I can’t hear her name without smiling. She’s a powerhouse, capable of anything, and I’m in awe of the things she can manage and accomplish in one day. I could never come close.
But, somehow, she lets me get close to her.
“Astrid, what are we doing?” I run a hand over my head as the rhythm of my heart changes. It beats harder and faster, each pulse both a warning and a wish. I don’t know which is a bigger problem.
There’s no way of knowing where this thing with Astrid will go. Hell, I’m not even sure how she feels about me. But the more time we spend together, the more I know I want this to go somewhere, and the fewer fucks I give about how fast this is going. There isn’t a scenario I can conjure up where she doesn’t fit into my life. It feels like she’s supposed to be in my arms, business deals, and hometown.
It's terrifying. But it’s also right. And if that’s true, whether it be now or later, I must be prepared in every way to be the man she deserves.
No matter how much it hurts.
Knock! Knock!
“Come in,” I say, my voice raspy as I face the door.
Astrid steps through the threshold, rewarding me with a big, bright smile as she swings the door shut behind her.
“How was your morning?” I ask, wrapping her up in my arms. She nuzzles her face against my chest and sags against me. “Did you check out the venue?”
She nods, making no effort to pull away. So I stand in place and hold her until she’s damn good and ready.
“It was perfect.” She kisses my chest and then leans back. “Renn wanted to find the perfect place for Blakely’s birthday party, and I found it today. It’s beautiful and intimate but can fit all the people he wants to invite. I think. I hope.” She winces. “It’s perfect. I have to stop overthinking it.”
“Well, you look beautiful even if you are an overthinker.”
She smiles. “How do you feel today? What can I do for you? How can I help?”
“You can come to the couch and watch a movie with me.”
“I don’t see how that’s going to help you,” she says skeptically.
“How about this. How can I help you today?”
Her hands go to her hips. “I’m your assistant. It’s my job to help you.”
I chuckle, knowing it won’t do a damn bit of good to argue with her—not when she has this look in her eye. But I try, anyway.
“You realize that every time we’re together doesn’t mean we’re working, right?” I ask, taking her hand and leading her into the living room. “I didn’t ask you to come here as my coworker. I mean, if you want to dress in a secretary’s skirt or nurse’s outfit, then that’s a different story. That I’ll accept.”
Astrid smacks me, laughing, as I sit and pull her down onto my lap. She shifts around, getting comfortable against my chest. Her ass grinds on my cock but I don’t think it’s intentional. It doesn’t stop it from getting hard, though.
“Your game went well yesterday, right?” she asks, holding our laced fingers in the air. “Look at this. You have so many bruises.”
“Comes with the territory.”
“Do you ever worry that you’ll be permanently damaged?”
I take a deep breath. “No. Not really. Rugby is relatively safe.”
“In my professional opinion, I disagree.”
Laughing, I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me. “Your professional opinion, huh?”
“When you add the number of years I worked for Renn and now you, I’ve been in this industry for a long damn time. I think I qualify as a pro, thank you very much.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
She giggles. “I’ll pretend you meant that as a term of endearment, so I don’t have to kick your ass.”
Good. Because that’s how I meant it.
We sit together in the quiet, her head laying between my collar and jaw, and our fingers tangling lazily like neither of us wants to hold on tight or let go.
As I watch our fingers move, I realize it’s a metaphor for the two of us. We aren’t really together. But we aren’t exactly single, either. And maybe it doesn’t matter what our official status is because it doesn’t change anything for me. I’m riding this fucker out to see where it goes. We may not have known each other that long, but I’ve lost too many years to being unhappy. And this? This is motherfucking happiness.
Astrid drops her hand from mine and lets it fall to the couch. I watch it drift to the cushion and feel my heart go right along with it. Then it hits me.