Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 53(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 53(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
She laughs a short feminine laugh that brings a warmth over every inch of me. This woman has always had some kind of hold on me. If only she knew it.
“Oh my God,” she breaks up the tension. “Sorry, I just… I did get the blood work done for a reason. I’ve been having really bad allergies for a while and the medicine is making me really drowsy all day and-”
“Gotcha,” I straighten my back as I turn towards the clipboard and see what she’s prescribed. “We can get you an alternative easy enough.” I peer up at her and there’s that look again, a longing question in her eyes that I try to ignore. “We can try some things out and see what works,” I offer and swallow, my throat suddenly dry.
“Yeah, I’ve been having some weird dreams with it too.”
I could dream of her for days.
“I’ll get you a script and leave it at the front desk for you,” I offer, letting the clipboard drop to right where it needs to be as I stand. “Anything else, Bree?”
Her lips lift into a gorgeous smile. “You called me Bree,” she murmurs.
“Sorry Ms.--”
“Don’t you dare,” she jokes as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “I just really like hearing you say it… is all.”
“Well if it’s all the same to you, you can call me Bennet… no need for Doctor.”
I second guess the statement the second it’s out my mouth. I haven’t dated in years and I’m rusty as all hell. With a nervous smile and short nod, silence settles between us and I think I’ve ruined it.
“Any other concerns before I leave you to it?”
“Just that I’ll be single forever,” she jokes and then her gaze glances between me and the floor.
Single… If I’m not mistaken, she’s hitting on me.
“Are you dating someone?” she dares to ask and that’s when all the blood in my head rushes to my dick.
“I’m not …” I answer, swallowing thickly and making doubly sure that the clipboard is in fact still blocking her view so she doesn’t know exactly what she does to me and how very little control I have around her.
“Me either….” she says and adds, “The worst part about being single is going out to restaurants alone.”
“Do you want a date?” I ask and then reconsider how I phrased the question. “I mean to a restaurant; we can catch up … if you want?”
“You kind of owe me a drink since you got a free show,” she jokes.
I smirk, “Dinner tonight? That seafood place by the lake?”
“A girl is never supposed to accept a date offered the day of.” My heart drops but picks right back up when she finishes her thought. “Luckily I’m terrible at dating and I love lobster.”
I’m stunned for a moment. I’m going to go out on a date with Bree.
“Not that I would order the lobster,” she rushes out the words when I stay silent a little too long.
Fuck, I love how nervous I make her. I hope that’s a sign that I get to her too. That would only be fair considering the chokehold she has over me.
“It would be fine if you did,” I tell her, offering as charming of a smile as I can manage.
“Yes, tonight sounds wonderful,” she agrees and with that I head out, telling her I’ll text her and bringing up the clipboard to motion, “this is your number right?”
She nods and then her gaze drops.
Fuck.
“Yes. Yes it is.” she says, struggling to bring her eyes back up.
Fuck, fuck, fuck; the clipboard is lowered again as my cheeks blaze and I tell her, “I’ll see you tonight then.”
Her voice carries behind me as I make my way out as fast as I can, “Looking forward to it.”
AUBREY
The swing’s gentle creak is almost drowned out by the unison laughter from my neighbors. It’s become a habit of ours, cocktails and gossip on Marlena’s porch right around 4 or 5pm every Wednesday night, depending on how desperate we are for the day to be over. Most of us work from home, we all live on Cedar Lane and Marlena is kind enough to host … and kind enough to watch us all waddle home if we’ve had a few too many. I know first-hand Lauren can drag me onto my sofa and will tuck the throw around me if the wine goes down a little too easy.
She’s the one next to me on the swing, keeping the rhythm of it with Gemma and Marlena in the wicker chairs across from us. Marlena’s patio is a suburban dream design straight from the catalogs. With potted petunias, deep gray painted floors, a viridian door and a white railing, she thought about every detail. Or at least her designer did. Even the straws in her cocktail glasses fit the color palette coming in shades of dark greens and blues.