Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Mother of Dragons, it’s been a good fucking week.
And today will be the best day by far.
Right after this goddamn quarterly budgeting meeting that is.
Cami strolls back into our shared office from her lunch break—that she took with Kyla who “affectionally” calls me Godzilla—holding two cups from Beanstalk Brew, the closest coffeeshop to the office. “Good afternoon, Mr. Draak.”
I’m barely able to swallow the happy purr simply seeing her conjures. “Good afternoon, Miss Pennington.” Leaning back in my leather chair, I fold my hands together in my lap. “Did you enjoy your lunch at The Isle of Atlantis?”
“How have I lived this long without having had sushi made by an actual Atlantean?” She uses the edge of her gray flat to shut the door behind her. “And also, you didn’t have to pay for it. While I appreciate the gestures, you don’t have to keep paying for my lunches. I am more than capable of feeding myself both physically and financially.”
“A simple thank you would suffice.”
“Appreciation acknowledgement will have to do.”
There’s no stopping the hungry growl that creeps its ways up the back of my throat.
Fate knew what she was doing when she gave me this female with a steel backbone and brass balls. The only things I love more than a good mug of Odin’s Eye are a bare-claws scrap and rough round of fucking afterward. When it comes to my Fated Mate, we just so happen to box with words instead of fists but make no mistake. Punches never get pulled and bruises aren’t always quick to fade, which isn’t convenient when you’re left seething seconds before starting an hour-long positive attitude seminar.
“What’d you have?” I politely ask as she arrives on the other side of the desk.
“A sampler assortment, but the bluefin was by far my favorite. I could’ve just eaten a plate of that until Aquaman showed up at my table to tell me to stop committing crimes against the creatures under his protection.”
My eyebrows dart down in concern. “Who the fuck is Aquaman?”
“He is a mythical comic book character, although after talking to Artur Murry, the head chef at restaurant, how mythical is now debatable.” Cami doesn’t pause for input. “I stopped to grab us budget meeting beverages from Beanstalk Brew, which I know now not only contains an entirely different menu for those on this side of The Fog but is also owned and operated by a real couple named Jack and Jill.”
“Hill.”
Confusion is briefly flashed in her complexion. “What?”
“Hill is their last name.”
“You mean to tell me that the biggest coffee corporation in the country-”
“And at least three more.”
“-is run by the couple from a fucking nursery rhyme?”
“I am simply telling you that Sleepers have a long, complicated history of fucking up basic facts.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Her mirth-filled smirk ignites my own. “Now, would you like The Jack, which contains lime, blue raspberry, and a drop of giant’s breath—because evidently a little goes a long way like an energy drink—or would you like The Cuckoo-Clock, a strawberry, banana, doosemelon blend drizzled with frost giants’ brill? And while I don’t know what brill is, if it’s something disgusting, please wait until after we’ve finished our respective beverages as to not prevent me from enjoying whichever one, I am stuck with.”
“Brill is merely ice that has melted off of them.”
Disgust doesn’t hesitate to hop onto her face. “What did I just say?”
“I didn’t think that qualified as disgusting.”
She places the beverage down in the open space in front of me. “Then you may drink it.”
“Thank you, Miss Pennington,” is expressed on an airy laugh. “This was…very thoughtful of you.”
The full-figured female who looks mouth-watering in my platinum color pulls her long black locks to one side of her face on a playful retort. “I am a very thoughtful being much like yourself, Mr. Draak.”
That she is.
When she found out wearing my shade brings unspoken happiness to me as much as my dragon, she introduced the shade into her wardrobe in high volume.
When she discovered my hobby—so to speak—she began adding estate sales for us to visit to the shared calendar I insisted we start for better time management in our personal affairs.
And when she found out I liked grilling on our very first date, she secretly ordered me a “Mr. Good Lookin’ is Cookin’ ” apron that I have yet to wear.
Perhaps I’ll wear just that tonight while grilling our candlelight bonding dinner.
My ass is good enough to pull off that look.
Yes.
A warm, loving grin is offered prior to my standing up, collecting of the cup, and the retrieving of my tablet. “Shall we proceed to the meeting?”
Cameron nods in agreement and hurriedly crosses over to the area she’s been working in to grab her own matching device. Afterward, she meets me at the door for the two of us to take my private elevator down to the necessary floor.