Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“He’s not that bad,” I argue. “You two might even be friends if you talked to one another.”
Jesse looks doubtful, but offers, “Yeah, maybe we could play a round or two of pool. Winner gets first punch.”
I laugh, knowing as well as he does that he’d win. “Okay, maybe not.”
We talk about the guys he’s seen over the last few days and how everyone’s getting nervous about their jobs. “They’re going to Newport,” he admits at one point. “I just hope I can get them back when the time comes.”
His eyes go vacant for a moment, and I think he’s planning through how that could play out if he does lose some crew members permanently. Reaching up, I take his hand. “Someone pretty awesome told me to do what I’m good at, so maybe you should keep doing that too.”
His eyes drop to my breasts, which are quickly becoming exposed as the bubbles disintegrate. “I know one thing I’m good at that I didn’t get to do earlier.”
Dirty-minded boy.
Good thing I love it.
But first . . . “You’re good at taking care of your guys. Chrissy is going to be an absolute shit show. There’s nothing I can do about that. But you can be the buffer between her and your guys. You might have to become an operations manager or something, even.”
Jesse nods thoughtfully, and I feel like he’s letting my words sink in and really considering them. But he also asks, “Is she really that bad?”
The scrunchy face that accompanies the question says he doesn’t really want the answer, but I don’t sugarcoat things.
“We spent three hours arguing over whether the electrical lines could be run underground or if they had to be run on poles. She completely didn’t understand that was a nonnegotiable . . . because the freaking electricity is already on-site and run throughout the property.”
“You didn’t,” he argues disbelievingly.
I nod my reassurance. “Yep, all because she didn’t like the aesthetic of wires in the air. So she wanted them rerun underground so she didn’t have to see them.”
“Shiiiit, maybe I’ll go to Newport tomorrow too,” he laughingly suggests. He’s not doing any such thing. The other guys will, but Jesse will remain true to the bitter end. I just hope that’s not sooner rather than later with Chrissy at the helm of the ship otherwise known as Chrissy’s Construction, with a heart over the i in Chrissy.
And unfortunately, I’m dead serious. It’s one of the company names in consideration. I’ll save that one for later. Jesse’s had about as much as he can take right now. Still, I think about him drawing little hearts on his paperwork every day and giggle.
“Someone’s getting a bit too cold.” Jesse rises from the floor, grabbing a fluffy towel as he does. He holds it out wide as I stand from the lukewarm water, and quickly wraps me up in it, rubbing me gently to help me dry off.
In the bedroom, he pulls back the blankets and gestures for me to get in. “I need pajamas or I’ll freeze.”
“Not with me behind you.” He grins devilishly.
“You’re staying over?” I ask, hearing the hopefulness in my own voice.
“Couldn’t kick me out now if you tried. Get into bed while I go warm up your leftovers. Dinner in bed, and then you need some sleep.” He points at me and then the bed, allowing for no arguments.
Not that I want to argue. A bath, dinner, and sleep sound like heaven right now, and I’m one for three as of yet.
“Yes, sir,” I snap jokingly, not used to people telling me what to do or taking care of me. But I kinda like it . . . from Jesse.
“Careful, Birdie. You start that shit and there’s no telling when you’ll get to rest,” he warns. His dark eyes have gone instantly molten, promising all sorts of naughty fun. I’m heavily considering starting that shit right now, but a yawn escapes, and Jesse’s brows knit together in concern. “Bed. Now.”
He guides me to lay down on my propped-up, freshly fluffed pillows, and places a quick peck to my forehead. “Back in a second,” he tells me, nearly running for the kitchen to heat up the leftovers.
But even that’s too long, I guess, because I fall asleep before he gets back. I dream that he strips down and climbs into bed with me, arranging us into big and little spoons, with me as the little spoon. I think I argue about wanting to be his jet pack, but he chuckles and tells me to go back to sleep. All I know is I sleep well, warm and safe wrapped in Jesse’s arms.
Chapter 22
JESSE
I don’t know the number on my phone, which usually means it’s a spam call. I go to hit “Decline,” but for some reason, it accidentally answers. Rolling my eyes at my fat-fingering and already annoyed at the interruption to my not-at-all-busy day, I say, “Hello.”