Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Yet.
It takes me some time. I write and re-write my message a dozen times over before settling on something simple but interesting enough for Ashlee to take notice.
Payment in advance and complete freedom for her to design whatever she wants.
I hit send, expecting a reply within moments.
Nothing.
I double-check the message was sent and start to get more impatient as the minutes tick by.
Maybe she doesn’t check her website messages every five minutes.
I know I reply to my own messages quickly, but they’re direct. Anything through the company website is handled by someone else and can take a few hours or all day before they have time to respond.
But I need her to see it now.
I need to see her now.
There’s no way I’m going home, not like this. I’d never sleep a wink and be wishing I’d stayed glued to the spot, close to her store in case I caught sight of her.
The daylight’s starting to fade and although it’s risky, I decide to move my truck closer to the store.
I won’t see shit parked in an alley, and as much as I could beat off to pictures of Ashlee all day, the real thing is only a few hundred yards away.
It’s her I want. Not my hand on myself.
I want her hands on me, my hands all over her.
My seed planted inside her. That’s what I want.
Parking as close as I dare to the storefront, and out of range of the street lights as they flicker to life, I prepare to settle in for a long wait.
But the sudden appearance of another car at the front of the store breaks my plan apart.
Chapter Seven
Ashlee
Having his biggest client of the season walk out of the store sees Mark’s mood and physical appearance going downhill fast.
He makes me promise, swear I won’t tell Cynthia what’s just happened.
“I think you’re making too much of it, Mark,” I tell him honestly.
“All I said to Mr. Silver was that I had all the measurements I needed and that his suit will be ready tomorrow. Two jackets and even an extra set of pants. Just in case,” I add, letting him know I added value to the account as well as measured the man.
He sighs to himself but again makes me promise not to mention it to Cynthia.
“Okay, okay,” I tell him, half-laughing. Knowing deep in my soul that there’s no need to worry.
Brandon Silver is coming back. I can feel it.
A part of me feels like I’m the one being watched now. Like he’s left his eyes, his aura in the store to watch over me.
I can still catch a faint hint of his cologne on the suit jackets.
Enough to give me another shiver, but it’s nothing compared to the man himself.
“Sorry, Ash,” Mark finally murmurs. “I guess I’m just worried. It’s not every day a client like him comes along, I mean he literally told us to spare no expense for his best friend’s wedding.”
I feel my heart freeze in my chest.
“He what now?” I snap, feeling a strange panic mixed with dread rising up inside of me.
It's Mark’s turn to chuckle a little, the look on my face must be priceless and the color matching his own.
A weird shade of green-gray, I imagine.
“He’s paying for the wedding of the year for his best friend and number one employee, can you believe that?” Mark asks absently, sniffing loudly before searching for a box of tissues and then sneezing into a handful.
Not wanting to spread his germs, Mark moves towards the back of the shop, but I’m not done here. I need him to repeat what he’s just told me.
Maybe he really is sick, like running a fever sick and has no idea what he’s talking about.
There’s no freaking way he’s just told me that it’s not Brandon Silver getting married.
Is there?
Following him into the back, shaking my head in disbelief I watch Mark hold up his hands in protest.
“Maybe keep your distance, Ash. I really think I’m coming down with something nasty and I’d hate for you to—” he says but I cut him off.
I’m not worried about that.
What’s making me sick is needing to know if I just heard him right.
“Did you just say that Brandon Silver isn’t the groom? That he’s not getting married?” I almost spit.
Mark covers his mouth and nose with some more tissues, nodding before he sneezes loudly again, his eyes streaming and red now.
“Yup,” he says, looking a little confused. “I thought he would have mentioned he’s just the best man. Best friend, best man. That sort of thing,” he adds, giving me a sidelong look as I sit down in a chair.
I have to sit down, I feel faint.
“You alright?” Mark asks, sounding worried.
And not because I just brushed off the man of my dreams either. He’s probably worried I might be as sick as he and Cynthia are starting to sound.