Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“There needs to be rules.”
I expect no less from her.
CHAPTER 5
SUMMER
“Avoid my sisters at all costs,” I slip in quietly.
“That’s the rule?” He chuckles just as a breeze blows through. And starts texting and mumbling like I need to know his plans, “RSVP no to the event.”
“What event?” I’m nosy and shrug.
“Nothing I’m interested in.”
“Fine.” Closing my eyes, I take in the gentle wind. The cotton fabric still sticks to my body in some places where it hasn’t dried, but the breeze sneaks through the openings to help the process along.
“Avoiding my sisters. That’s the first rule.” There’s rarely much traffic on this road between the houses, so our pace has been steady since we left the cottage with Roman running up ahead of us.
“Naturally.”
I’m afraid he already knows me too well. Am I that predictable? That boring? To someone like him, living life in the busy city, being able to afford to vacation the entire summer with his son, I probably am. “I do love rules,” I blurt out like some weird defense mechanism.
“You do, and I love breaking them.” A wry grin slides across his lips. “Both rules and records.” Rules I understand. They curb fun from turning into chaos. Records, though? What does he have against albums? “Guess we’d never make a good match.”
I’m not sure if I take offense to that or not. “Yeah, I suppose not. I like music too much.”
Under a creased brow, his gaze glides over to me. He opens his mouth and closes it again. After a quick shake of his head, he chuckles under his breath. “Okay.” We keep walking, but then he asks, “Why are we avoiding your sisters at all costs?”
“Because . . .” I can’t tell him that we don’t see many men, much less men who look like him, roaming around these parts. If his picture gets out or gossip spreads that a gorgeous man is staying here for the summer, he’ll have an influx of visitors wanting to welcome him. I wouldn’t put stalking past some of them either. It’s my job to provide the privacy my guests want and deserve. As for my sisters, though . . . “I won’t hear the end of it if they get wind of you.”
“So they don’t know I’m here?”
“They know, but it’s more for me than you.”
“I’m not following.” His brow furrows as he stares at me. “How so?”
I take a deep breath, not really interested in laying bare my stale love life to this man who can probably get any woman to say yes to anything he asks of them. It’s not much of an ego booster for me in comparison. I exhale, and reply, “Don’t laugh.” When he doesn’t respond, I look at him, raising my brows. “Okay?”
He laughs. Not a good start. “Okay.”
Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this? Ugh. It’s the truth, though, so I’ll own it. “It’s been a bit of a dry spell.”
“How dry?”
“D4 levels.”
“I assume we’re talking about a drought scale?” He had been keeping watch on Roman, but his eyes are locked on me like I might escape if he doesn’t.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Yes.”
“And a D4 means?”
I need my hands too much to keep them restrained. I free my right one and wave it in the air. “Exceptionally drought-y.”
His mouth drops open, but it’s the eyes widening like saucers that really secures my embarrassment. “Exceptionally?”
“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.” I pick up my pace to give myself some room to get through the humiliation. Even if we’re the only ones on this road, it doesn’t feel big enough for the three of us. I offered them a foldout couch in the living room, but he wants to think about it. I don’t blame him. But now they’ll know the way and can come and go as they need.
He easily makes up ground to walk next to me again. “I didn’t laugh.”
“You didn’t have to.” I glance at him. “I could feel the—”
“I wasn’t judging. I’m genuinely surprised.” He looks me over from head to toe and doesn’t shy away from taking the scenic tour back up to meet my eyes. “Look at you.”
I look down at my water-spotted dress and my sneakers, sullied with dirt from walking around in them. The ends of my hair are straight and hanging over my shoulder, and my thighs have been rubbing since I was soaked in the shower. “What am I looking at?”
“Come on, Summer. You’re not serious.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard him call me by only my first name. I’ve heard him call me Summer Season and Ms. Season, but the way my name sounds like a warm cuddle rolling off his tongue makes my heart clench. “I am serious, Daniel,” I reply, trying his name on for size. I like it better. I like him better, too. Though liking someone who is not only temporarily in Mountain Laurel Cove but also someone I’m supposed to maintain a professional relationship with is one road I can’t travel down.