Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
With the two of us on this bike, I was unsure of the power.
However, the minute he started it, and I felt the power of the motor between my thighs, all doubts fled my mind.
Instead of worrying about how my ass was hanging off the back, or anything else pertaining to my ass, I wrapped my arms tightly around Truth, and let the wind take me.
And when Truth pulled up in front of the same pub, I realized that he was giving me a gift.
He was sharing his world with me, and I was going to let him.
Two hours later, I took him to my house.
Well, I gave him directions, anyway.
The moment he saw it, he stopped at the end of the driveway and stared.
“This is a big fucking house!” he yelled over the din of the motor.
I snorted.
“Call it what it is! A monstrosity!” I yelled back.
He put his foot back up onto the pedal thingy while turning the throttle with his hand, and we were off again, setting off through the gate and straight up my driveway, coming to a stop next to my car—which somehow had magically appeared.
Though, really, I knew it was Randi.
Her and her husband likely were responsible for it, and I made a mental note to thank the both of them tomorrow.
I’d do it today, but I had a feeling we were about to be very busy.
He shut off the bike and stared up at the house, his jaw going slack as he took it in.
“It’s big,” he murmured, holding his hand out for me to take.
I did, sweeping my leg off of the bike and staring up at the house, trying to see what he saw.
I didn’t know what he saw, though.
I’d been coming to this house for my entire twenty-nine years of life, and I didn’t see it as anything but home anymore.
“How many rooms does this place have?”
I gestured for him to follow me while placing the helmet on the seat he’d just vacated, and he fell in step beside me as I started to explain.
“This is what they call a Colonial,” I murmured. “It has thirteen bedrooms. There are eight bathrooms, a kitchen, two living room areas, two formal dining rooms, a ballroom, and an indoor pool,” I explained.
“Did the pool come original with the house?” he asked as I led him around the side of the house.
I used the back entrance instead of the front.
Mainly because I had to walk all the way through the house to get to the kitchen, and usually had groceries of some form or fashion.
Not to mention my great-grandmother always used to use this door, so it seemed only proper that I used it, too.
“No,” I fished my keys out of my purse. “The pool was added during my GG’s time here. She moved out a few years ago, and now she lives in the little row house next to the lake.”
“There’s a lake?” he turned his head to search behind him.
“Yes,” I pushed the door open and led him inside, hearing him close the door securely behind me. “It’s beyond the trees that you see at the end of the lawn.”
“Who mows this place?” he asked.
I started to snicker.
“That would be me,” I said. “Every Saturday that I’m off.”
“When are you not off?” he asked as he looked around. “I haven’t actually seen you work yet.”
I knew what he was asking.
How the hell did I afford a place like the one I was currently living in.
“My great-grandmother was one of the original Cassidy Winemakers in Mooresville County,” I started to explain.
His eyes closed, and he started to nod.
“That explains the CW on the gate,” he surmised.
I smiled softly.
“When my great-grandmother died, she left my GG this place, and me a sizeable trust fund that I was able to access four years ago.” I walked to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine. “Want any?”
His brows rose, but he nodded anyway.
“What?” I asked.
“That bottle looks old,” he murmured.
“My GG and great-grandmother were wine connoisseurs. You can’t expect a person, such as my grandmother and great-grandmother, to not have wine just lying around the house.”
“Touché.”
I nodded firmly and handed him the bottle and the corkscrew.
He took it deftly, easily removing the cork and handing it back to me.
I placed two glasses in front of him, and he poured them not halfway like most would, but all the way up to the top.
“You know me already,” I giggled. “I thought it was only Randi and me who didn’t waste any time or effort when it came to wine. It’s good to see you have the same thought processes.”
He winked.
“The house?” he reminded me.
“My GG gave it to me three years ago when she moved out, although I’ve been living here for most of my life.”