Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
My brain turns the fuck off before I’m able to process my options. Option A: say something witty and charming. Or Option B: stand here gaping while the blood in my brain diverts entirely to my lower half. Right now, I’m going with option B.
For a moment, I can’t remember my own last name.
Nadia drops to her knees to start gathering up her scattered shit, and I realize I’m staring and need to get my ass into gear. But then Salty starts his signature “I need to pee right the fuck now, and I have to find the perfect blade of grass, NOW!” shuffle, a routine that always ends with him sniffing his way across the green lawn for several minutes before he decides on the same fucking spot he uses every evening at this time.
“Can I help?” I blurt, which is ridiculous since I’m clearly not helping.
She looks up, eyes squinting with the effort of trying not to laugh at me. “I think I’ve got it,” she says with humor shining in her eyes.
Salty is winding the leash around my legs, prepping for his business. “You’re sure?” I ask, watching her corral an avalanche of brightly colored markers. She glances up at me through her lashes, with her heart-shaped face tilted and her lips quirking with mischief. The afternoon sun catches on her wild blonde curls, and every gold strand glows.
Fuck, she’s pretty.
Not just pretty. Knockout fucking gorgeous. Her huge blue eyes are framed by thick dark lashes. There’s a little scar near her right eyebrow that draws my attention. I want to kiss that little white line more than I want my next breath.
My gaze drags over her curves as she leans over to grab a plastic toy. My hands itch to touch her. My mouth dries.
Her platinum hair is falling out of the bun in wild ringlets. There’s something weirdly hypnotic about watching her reach for a notebook. My brain finally kicks into gear, and I pull my head out of my ass. I kneel next to her to help gather all the shit.
I’m putting the last blue pen in the tote when Salty tugs on the leash, letting me know I’ve run out of time. Either I take him to his favorite grass blade, or he’ll pee on my goddamn shoes. Tension flows through me at the thought of letting this gorgeous woman get away. “Do you live in the building?” I need to know what I’m working with here.
The band around my chest eases a little when she nods her head. “I just moved in.”
“If you give me two minutes to let this little tyrant handle his business, I can help you get those bags up to your apartment. Looks like you’re hauling a semester’s worth of supplies.”
Nadia glances at the dog, then back at me. She tilts her head, assessing, as if she’s trying to decide if I’m trustworthy.
That’s honestly fair.
“I’d love a little help getting all this upstairs.” She blows a little strand of hair out of her face. I help lug her bags over to one of the benches lining the walkway. The moment she sits, she sort of melts as I place her totes next to her. Her head tips back, and she closes her eyes, just for a second. Fuck. She’s beautiful.
Even bone-tired and slumped on a bench, hair wild and sticking out in every direction, she looks like a pin-up angel sent to earth to tempt me. Her pouty lips are parted, and the pale column of her throat is exposed as she tips her head back. It takes everything in me not to lean in and trace that tiny scar near her eyebrow with my thumb.
My brain short-circuits.
Salty drags on the leash harder, utterly determined to find the one patch of grass that meets his exacting standards. “I’ll be right back,” I mutter to Nadia as the little dictator drags me over to the area of the lawn designated for “pet business area.”
Once he’s done, I do my neighborly duty—bag everything up and toss it in the trash—before heading back to Nadia.
When I step close, she pulls a little bottle of hand sanitizer out of her purse and hands it to me. “You might need this.”
“Thank you.” I smile and squirt some in my hand before giving it back to her. “You do come prepared.”
“Always.” She laughs as I pick up her bags and wince at the weight.
“Are you ready?” I ask, and she stands up. Our arms brush. My pulse triples when her delicate scent reaches my nose. She smells like fresh laundry mixed with something sweet, maybe lavender. My cock actually twitches. I am not proud of this, but I am about two seconds from embarrassing myself in the lobby of #1 Love Place. I have to focus, or I’ll drop her tote bags and do something insane like kiss her right here.