Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Hello?” It came out more as an uncertainty than a greeting.
“You don’t like texting?” Mitch’s smooth deep voice made his body tighten and his dick pay even closer attention. Fuck, he was in serious trouble here. Why had he even texted Mitch back tonight?
“No, texting’s fine,” Cody managed, even though his mouth went dry and his voice was a little shaky. Mitch had a way of making him like that, all hot and flustered.
“Okay. Texting’s generally easier for me too, especially when I’m working. What about this us thing? I’m confused about that,” Mitch said.
“I didn’t mean us like that,” Cody said, slightly at a loss for words.
“What did you mean?” Mitch sounded confused, and Cody didn’t know how to explain. This was why he’d chosen to text. Texting was so much easier than a one-on-one conversation. And how did he make Mitch understand what he meant? How did he say that Mitch was too far out of his league? He didn’t play those kinds of games. Mitch was too hot and too smooth….Cody was more of a relationship kind of guy. All that sounded way too lame and he closed his eyes, running his palm over his face. Why had he even texted Mitch in the first place? Mitch’s voice caught him off guard. “Are you there? Did I lose you?”
“No, I’m here,” Cody finally answered.
“What are you doing right now?” Mitch asked. Cody froze. He certainly couldn’t say lying in bed, right? Yeah, no that would definitely be a bad idea. “Is that a hard question too?” Mitch laughed this time, and Cody gave an inner groan.
“That sounded hot. What are you doing that you’re making sounds like that, I’d really like to watch.” Mitch’s voice had dropped an octave or two lower. Cody sighed and pushed himself up in bed, resting against the headboard since he couldn’t find it in himself to just tell Mitch to stop calling him.
“I was thinking about going to bed. You know like sleep, and I saw your text,” Cody answered truthfully.
“You just got my text from this morning?” Mitch sounded surprised.
“I left my phone at home today. It’s been that kind of day. I forgot it this morning when I headed out the door.” He crossed his legs at the ankles and pulled the cover across his waist silently berating himself. His stupid heart was connecting during his break-up call and that was what scared him the very most, the fear of a broken heart.
“I wondered why you didn’t text me back. My ego was a little hurt today because of it. But I’m good now. So, what did you do on your day off?” Mitch questioned.
“I moved cattle. My family has a farm down by Austin.”
“I figured something like that. You look like a cowboy. Do you have a laptop?” Mitch asked.
“Yes,” Cody answered wearily.
“Can you get it? I’ll Skype you,” Mitch said. “Tell me your email address again?”
Cody paused and forced himself to stop this before it started. He opened his mouth to say the words he’d tried to use in the very first text, but those didn’t come out. Instead he rattled off his email address. “Give me a minute.”
He left the phone on the bed, went to the living room, grabbed the laptop, and returned to his bedroom. He looked in the dresser mirror to make sure his hair wasn’t sticking every which way and debated putting on some athletic shorts. Instead he opted to tuck himself back in bed, covering everything below the waist. He opened his laptop and put the phone to his ear again.
“Okay, I opened the program, what do I do now?”
After a moment, Mitch’s profile picture filled the screen. Oh fucking hell, the guy was hotter than he remembered. Need instantly slammed into his body causing his dick to tent the sheet. Thank god Mitch couldn’t see that.
What the hell was wrong with him? He was such a fucking contradiction. He’d just relaxed on this bed and decided to end this stupid intense infatuation, and now he was answering Mitch’s call on Skype. The reasoning side of his brain finally made an appearance. He clearly wanted Mitch. That was obvious. He just didn’t want to want him.
As the call connected and video initiated, all Cody could do was stare down at the screen—Mitch reclined against his headboard with his laptop in his lap, too, and not wearing a shirt. Damn, the man was so freaking fine, with all that bulked up, tattooed chest showing. A detailed cross decorating his left pectoral muscle and the words ‘Only God Can Judge Me’ inked in black scroll across his collarbone stood out like a beacon against his olive skin. The man’s dimples showed, big and tempting. All Cody could think about was pressing his lips to one of them.
Fuck my life.
“You can put the phone down now,” Mitch chuckled. Cody slowly lowered the cell and kept his eyes on the screen with his mouth shut tight. Like he’d thought a hundred times since meeting Mitch, he was so in over his head. Cody closed his eyes at the thought and ran a hand over his face and through his still damp hair.
“We were talking about what you did today. Your family has a farm in Texas? It’s like big enough to run cattle?” Mitch questioned.
Cody nodded. He’d lost count of how much land they still owned. Over the last ten or so years, the area where they lived had started to grow. They had slowly sold part off. He guessed maybe they still had six to eight hundred acres, but who knew for sure with his brain so jumbled.
“Did you grow up there?” Mitch asked.
“I did,” Cody finally said something. He was proud of himself.
“I grew up in New York. I’m a Yankee, I guess,” Mitch smiled. Those damn dimples were back. “Do you live at home still?”
“I have a place in Austin,” Cody answered.
“That’s right. I think you told me that last night. You live alone.”