Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Shaking off the thoughts, I turn the water to cold and let it wash away the need that’s still coursing through my body. Not that it matters. By the time I turn off the water, I’ll be hard for her again.
After my shower, I toss on some clothes. Faded blue jeans and a flannel shirt that’s worn and soft. What would it be like to have Lauren wearing my clothes? What would she look like in my shirt?
“Look, toss it down on the counter,” I hear Cord’s voice. “Then we’ll get out of here.”
“What are you doing?” I demand as I round the corner into my kitchen to see Flint and Cord. Flint has a guilty look on his face as he tries to hide what he’s doing on his phone. Wait, that phone is in a bright yellow case with strawberries on it.
Cord bumps Flint. “Nothing.”
“Let me guess. You’re both looking to borrow a shirt,” I quip, still irritated by their behavior earlier.
Flint takes a step back and tosses me the phone he was holding. I catch it instinctively, staring down at the girly device. “What—?”
“She left it here. We didn’t take it,” Flint says quickly and turns toward the door.
But before he can leave, there’s a rap on the screen door. It’s open so Lauren gives a jaunty little wave through the screen before walking right into my kitchen. Her big smile is triumphant, and fuck, it makes something flip in my chest to see it.
“I’ve been searching everywhere for my ph—oh, good you found it.” She beams at me, and I want to pound on my chest. Her smile is mine. I did that. I made her smile so big. “Flint, Cord, great. You’re still here. You’ve got to see what the bidding is already up to on you, Cord.”
He frowns. “Someone wants me?”
“No one is more surprised than we are,” Flint answers.
She practically bounces to the kitchen island and puts her laptop on the counter. She opens the screen and swipes her finger across it. “Look, do you see that number?”
Cord whistles when he sees the figure. “This isn’t a joke?”
“Nope.”
“Do you know who bid that much?”
Lauren shakes her head and climbs onto a barstool. “The bidder hasn’t confirmed her payment details yet. Once she does, I’ll know more. But can you imagine? If the other guys go for this much, we’ll save the retirement home for sure!”
She reaches to hug him, but all it takes is an arched eyebrow from me, and Cord steps back. Her expression falls, but he pretends not to notice. “I have to go…”
“Find a shirt,” Flint says. “We have to go find shirts now before we catch our death of a chill.”
“But you’re both wearing shirts.” She frowns.
“Oh, trust me, we’re cold,” Cord mutters as he turns toward the door. He and Flint make a quick exit without bothering to look back.
“That was weird,” she murmurs and turns her attention to me. “See how happy he was? You should totally let the men on your farm do this. It’s quite the ego boost.”
Before I can argue with her, Menace comes along and sticks his big head on her thigh, looking up at her with those puppy eyes that he always tries to give me after he’s finished munching on a beloved boot.
“And who is this cutie? Why have you been keeping him from me?” Her stomach rumbles as she gives him a scratch behind the ears that has his tongue lolling out of his mouth. She doesn’t pay any attention to her hunger cues, completely consumed by my furry little monster.
“His name is Menace,” I mutter as I turn and focus on the fridge. I survey the options quickly before grabbing the last of a Mexican casserole I made a couple of nights ago when I couldn’t quiet the memories from my last tour.
“You did not name such a sweet boy Menace,” she protests.
I put the food in the microwave. “Oh, I did. Especially after I realized his favorite hobby is chewing my boots to pieces.”
Menace is completely enraptured with the girl who gives him the best ear scratches. He even has the audacity to flop onto his back and show her his belly in a blatant bid for tummy rubs.
Lauren obliges, climbing down from the stool. She drops to her knees in that pretty little vintage skirt and rubs his exposed belly. “I don’t believe you. He’s such a good boy. He’s a perfect gentleman, I can tell.”
I’m not jealous of my dog, not wishing she’d run her hands all over my skin and give me belly rubs and well…lower. Nope, not going to think about that.
The microwave finishes with a beep, and I grab the hot plate, setting it gently on the kitchen island. “Eat.”
Her cheeks heat, turning a beautiful shade of crimson. “I’m not hungry.”