Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 147136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 736(@200wpm)___ 589(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 736(@200wpm)___ 589(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“Did what?”
“Told you, babe. I’m good with four recipes and that looks like a fifth. Is it?”
“Nope,” I replied cheerfully, liking that he remembered what my four trusted recipes were. I came to a stop in front of him and held out the plate proudly. “Well, it is but it’s not a new fifth. It’s the same one I burnt up before, but now it’s not all burnt up. See?”
He took the plate from me and admired the dish.
“Damn,” he mumbled appreciatively. “This looks good. Really fucking good.” His eyes lifted to mine. “Like your designs along the edge. Nice touch.”
Ah! He noticed!
I wanted to pirouette around the room but instead I chose to satisfy my need to celebrate with a less obnoxious bop of my shoulders.
“Thanks! And it should taste just as good as it looks. I left all the bitter out this time.”
A laugh rumbled in his chest. His eyes warmed.
“Didn’t need to do this,” he said, leaning in and kissing me quick. “Appreciate it, though.”
“Anytime, babe.”
He gave me a slow smile as he pulled back.
“Ready to eat?” he asked, setting the pie plate down next to his book, opening up the silverware drawer, grabbing two forks, then coming back over to stand next to me. “Need to taste some of this,” he murmured to himself, not bothering with a plate and sticking his fork into the crust like he was starved, digging out a heaping bite that needed to be warmed but apparently he wasn’t bothering with that either, and shoveling it in, chewing and moaning in potpie heaven.
“Savage,” I joked.
He gave me a wink.
“I’m a lady so I’m using a plate.”
I went to move around him to get to the cabinet that held the dishware when that quiet barking sound came from upstairs again.
I slapped the counter.
“Seriously? How do you put up with that? Aren’t your ears bleeding?”
Brian slowly turned his head.
“Huh?” he asked through a mouthful.
I gestured at the ceiling conveniently after another Jamie kink bark sounded.
“That!” I snapped. “How can you stand here eating homemade potpie while your best friend is upstairs acting like a house pet?”
He shrugged, swallowed, then stated matter-of-factly, “Really good potpie, babe.”
“That’s …” I lowered my hand and joined it with the other, knotting my fingers together. “Really?” I asked softly, leaning closer.
Brian nodded through a smile.
I inhaled sharply and curled my toes against the wood floor.
The urge to do another celebratory dance was stronger than ever, but I kept myself composed.
I’d wait until he went to the bathroom or something.
Brian dropped the fork in the dish, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and reached for mine, tugging me to follow behind him as he led us out of the kitchen.
“Come on. I’ll show you the house pet,” he said, heading up the stairs.
Panic tingled up my spine.
As if the weird, freaky bastard could hear me, he barked again.
I pointed up the stairs, then turned that finger on Brian and waved it in his face. “No thank you.”
Brian shook his head through a laugh, grabbed the hand I had suspended in the air, and resumed tugging me behind him as he continued climbing.
“I’m not sure why I gotta keep saying this but you seem to keep forgetting, don’t care what the fuck Jamie is doing or who, not my business and I never want it to be my business, which eliminates the possibility of me ever wanting to show you anything he’s doing in there.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” I commented on a sigh, reaching the top of the stairs and being led to the right, down the hallway where Brian’s room was located, not Jamie’s.
Thank God.
Brian stopped in front of his door, turned the handle, and pushed it open.
“Good thing this guy here’s keeping guard, ’cause you even thinking that makes me wanna throw you on the bed and spank the shit out of you.”
My eyes widened for two reasons.
One, I was turned on. Immediately. Really turned on and absolutely wishing he’d go through with his threat. The way Brian spanked had me begging for it and I wasn’t ashamed to admit that.
He was really really good at it.
And two, I didn’t miss the first part of his sentence, which led to me investigating with searching eyes what guy he was referring to that was keeping guard, leading me to spot only a second later the metal crate in the corner of the room next to the dresser and the puppy leaping around inside of it.
Not just any puppy. A boxer puppy.
No …fucking …way …
“Oh, my God!” I shrieked with more excitement than I’d ever felt in my entire life, jumping into the air repeatedly with my hands covering my mouth while the puppy shared in my enthusiasm, barking and whining for attention.
I bolted across the room and fell to my knees in front of the crate.