Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“That’s great.” Using big blue potholders, Quinn removed a steaming casserole dish from the oven. “I don’t promise this is as good as your mom’s. I had one of her breakfasts when I first arrived in town and was condo hunting. Your mom’s cooking is as good as what I’ve had at one of the hot Portland brunch spots.”
“I’ll pass the compliment on. And if the dinner tastes as good as it smells, you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Thanks.” Another cutely timid smile and blush. The way he responded to even simple praise made the room seem that much warmer, electric with potential. If he hadn’t been holding a piping-hot dish, I might have been tempted to pull him against me. He’d fit damn perfectly on my lap, but I resisted.
“This should probably cool for a moment. Do you want something to drink? I’ve got wine, but I’m still sticking with water for the foreseeable future.”
“Water’s fine. And I’m sure your liver will thank you, but don’t beat yourself up so hard. So you got drunk once. Your stellar rep will survive.”
“You’re sweet.” He set two glasses of water on the table and motioned for me to take one of the seats.
“Oh, I’m not always sweet. I can be salty too,” I teased, waiting to see if I could earn another blush from him.
“Salty can be good too.” Yup, there was that pink flush, rising all the way up to his forehead this time. “Sorry that the food is still so hot.”
Taking a seat, he continued to hold himself as stiffly as he had since I’d arrived, but I was starting to get a thing for his uncertainty. He seemed more awkward than disinterested, which inspired me to want to address the tension head-on rather than make stilted conversation all evening.
“I don’t mind waiting on the dinner.” Stretching, I pitched my voice low and soothing. “You in a hurry for us to be done?”
“No, of course not. I…like having company. Having you here. It’s nice.” He sounded sincere enough, and the way his tongue darted out gave me more hope that he only needed a little nudge to loosen up further.
“Good.” I leaned back in my chair, enjoying how his gaze roved over my torso. Time for that nudge. “Did you ask me here because you wanted someone to feed or because you were hoping I’d offer again for hooking up?”
He might kick me out before he even served the casserole. But taking the chance to bring up the topic beat making stilted conversation all evening.
Eight
Quinn
Finally. I could have gotten all indignant about Adam daring to be so blunt, but honestly, I was relieved. Not knowing when or if the topic would come up had me even more on edge than usual. Further, I admired directness as a character trait. Trying to wade through layers of subterfuge was tiring.
I was still me, though, and I made a startled noise, even as my temperature rose several degrees.
“Too bold?” Adam asked, laughing.
“No. No, I don’t think so. I like bold. I appreciate it. I don’t like chasing people down, figuring out if they actually mean what they say.”
“I don’t believe in wasting time either.”
I smiled. There was heat in his eyes—and the attraction I saw there was flattering. But what was even more appealing was how easy he was with his body, his relaxed posture. There was a kindness to his tone too. He was asking me, not pushing me.
“And I meant it. I would like to hook up. And I definitely want to hear more about your secret kinky side. No need to chase me down.” He grinned back at me. Yes, he was direct, all right, and I liked that. A lot.
He made it easy to speak more freely. Maybe talking about the issue would help because God knew ignoring it was exhausting.
“I might be interested,” I mumbled, looking down at the table and not him. “But feeding you would be the smarter answer.” I meant to joke, but my tone came out more defeated than I intended. “I’m too old to have a kinky side.”
“You’re thirty-five, Quinn. Not ancient. And even if you were seventy-five, I’m not aware of an upper age limit on kinky interests. I’m pretty sure there are senior citizens out there with paddles and handcuffs.”
I groaned because, apparently, he was going to make me spell this out. “Not all kinks age well. I’m too old to have a Daddy kink, no matter what I said the other night.”
He laughed, a full-bodied, warm chuckle. “And I’m too young to be a Daddy if I listened to half the dudes on my app, which I definitely do not.”
“Yeah, but you at least look the part.” Looking up, I let my gaze wander from his bristly beard to his built chest and muscular arms again, telling him with my eyes how hot his whole lumberjack Daddy exterior was. He might be younger than me, but he’d have no shortage of men lining up to be his boy. “I’m no longer remotely a cute twink. It feels silly admitting how much I’d like to be a Daddy’s boy. I’m a doctor.”