Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
He couldn’t take another minute and not pick her up and carry her to bed. He had no doubt she’d let him, too. She wasn’t one to hold on to hurt or disappointment. Discussion finished, she hadn’t brought it up again, nor did she punish him with moodiness or any inkling of disappointment.
As they chatted about everyday things, as she seemed content, his mood worsened, which only pissed him off. He had a woman who accepted his life and wasn’t making demands. He should be relieved. Hell, he should be sinking into her willing body and taking everything she was willing to give. But she’d had a rough weekend and though he knew sex would be a good temporary distraction, he couldn’t shake the feeling that sleeping with her tonight, when their feelings were so raw, wouldn’t be fair to her.
She met his gaze over her spoonful of ice cream and grinned.
Okay, maybe her feelings weren’t raw after all, but his were. He was feeling unsettled after their intense talk, almost . . . unhappy that he was getting everything he wanted and thought he needed out of a relationship.
So instead of staying, he kissed her good night and headed home.
* * *
Monday morning, Mike stared at the mound of paperwork on his desk that seemed to have grown over the weekend. He had a part-time administrative assistant, a fifty-five-year-old woman named Rachel who liked to mother him and the rest of the officers who worked under him. Thankfully, she was on the schedule this morning, and when she walked in with two cups of coffee, he gratefully accepted his, and they got to work.
While she sifted through the various papers, Rachel made notes, updated his calendar, and sorted everything into piles for filing later on.
An hour later, they were nearly at the bottom of his inbox. True, his schedule was full for the week, but he was up and running efficiently once more.
“I’m not sure what I’d do without you,” he said to Rachel.
“Your father used to say the same thing. If I’m making myself indispensable, I’m doing my job right.” She smiled, and she looked younger than her light silver hair usually made her look.
“My father’s a smart man.” Mike smiled at the thought of Simon in this same seat.
“And you’ve got a lot of him in you. The respect you command from your officers, the way you don’t take the mayor’s BS—pardon my French—and of course, your way with the ladies.” She laughed. “Not that you’d do anything about all that attention they give you. You’re like your daddy in that way too.”
“Attention?” Mike asked. Since he’d been back in Serendipity, he hadn’t noticed any women paying him special notice.
“Another way you’re like Simon, God bless him. Once he laid eyes on your mama, there wasn’t another woman who could distract him.”
Mike didn’t know which comment to tackle first, so he went with the easiest. “You don’t say? Dad was a goner from the beginning?” He wanted to hear more about Simon and Ella in the early days after Rex left and they’d gotten together.
He often wondered if Simon had done the right thing and fallen in love later, or if he’d always had a thing for Ella but the coast wasn’t clear until Rex left town. He’d also been curious about his mom, whether she’d married Simon out of desperation or true caring. He didn’t doubt she loved him now, but in the beginning? Mike shivered, knowing he was more afraid to know that part of the story, whether being pregnant with Mike had compelled his mother to make a choice she wouldn’t have otherwise.
He forced himself to refocus on Rachel, who was looking at him with a funny expression on her face. “Did you hear me?” she asked.
“Sorry. I got distracted.”
“I said, Simon always loved your mama, even when she was with that scoundrel, Rex . . . Oh!” Rachel slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”
Mike shook his head. “You spoke the truth. No need to apologize.” Everyone, it seemed, knew Rex Bransom hadn’t been a man worth knowing.
Cheeks still pink, Rachel looked at Mike’s desk, pulling a manila envelope from the bottom of his inbox. “This is the last thing. It has your name on it.” She handed the package to Mike without meeting his gaze.
“It’s okay, Rachel. Really.”
She nodded. “Thank you. I’m going to take these stacks and head over to the filing room.” She gathered the papers and quickly made her escape.
With a groan, Mike lowered himself back to his seat, package in hand. He didn’t recognize the writing but realized this had to be the envelope he’d gotten a phone call about over a week ago. He’d forgotten all about it, and obviously, it’d been buried beneath piles of paperwork.