Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“I don’t have AC,” she warns me. “I’ve had the house closed up, so it shouldn’t be too hot, and when the sun starts to go down, I’ll open everything up and get a breeze blowing through.”
It doesn’t surprise me. The house has to be a hundred years old, and most people didn’t start adding AC in their new builds until about twenty years ago. Still, it’s a little warm when we step inside.
Polly’s house is tidy and clean, if a little sparse on the furniture. What she does have is newer and looks comfortable.
“What happened there?” I ask, pointing to the wall in the living room. It’s covered in eight swatches of paint.
“I couldn’t decide which color I liked the best,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “I still can’t.”
“When did you put the swatches up?”
“Two years ago.” She shrugs, and I can’t help but chuckle. “There’s always another priority to see to, and I’m hardly here anyway. I’m going to take a quick shower. Please make yourself at home.”
“I’ll order dinner. Take your time.”
She smiles over at me, and then she walks down a hallway, and I hear a door close.
I want to follow her and join her in that shower. But I’ve decided to take things slow with Polly. We already know that the sexual chemistry is off the charts. Keeping my hands to myself is proving to be more of a challenge than I anticipated.
But I don’t like that she assumed that I was only interested in fucking her. And now that the dust has started to settle in my private life, I want to see what could happen between us.
Pulling out my phone, I place an order for Italian from Ciao, pleased when they say that the delivery should be here in about thirty minutes, and then I walk into the kitchen and hunt up some wineglasses.
Polly owns exactly two of them.
There’s a bottle of white in her fridge, so I locate a corkscrew and open the wine. The shower cuts off down the hall, so I pour the wine and take a sip of mine, leaning against the counter and waiting for the gorgeous redhead.
When she walks into the room, I almost say fuck it to my plan of talking and getting to know her and simply fuck her right here on this counter. She’s in a black tank top that molds to her curves. No bra. And the little denim shorts she’s wearing don’t leave much to the imagination. Her wet red hair is up in a knot on top of her head, and she’s barefoot.
I want to kiss each and every toe.
“Wine,” she says, almost desperately, and reaches for the glass. “Thanks for waiting.”
“It’s not a problem.” I have to clear my throat and cross my arms over my chest so I don’t reach for her. “The food should be here soon.”
“Want a tour while we wait? It’ll take about three minutes.”
I laugh and nod. “Hell yes. Show me your home, madam.”
“This is the kitchen.” She gestures grandly. “The only appliances that work in here are the fridge and microwave. The dishwasher is iffy at best, and the stove gave up the ghost a while ago.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Another project?”
“One that I haven’t had time for,” she confirms and leads me back to the living room. “This is not an open floor plan. I was going to take down that wall that separates the kitchen and living space, but again. Time.”
With another shrug, I’m led down the short hallway, and she gestures to the bathroom. “This is my one and only bathroom. But I live here alone, so it works fine for me. Even though it looks dirty, I assure you, it’s not.”
“It doesn’t look dirty,” I reply with a frown.
It just looks old. The whole place needs a complete overhaul.
“My bedroom,” she continues, and I poke my head in. There are more paint swatches on the wall, and the bed in the center of the room doesn’t have a headboard. But it is covered in soft blankets and pillows full of color and looks damn comfortable. “And I converted this smaller bedroom across the hall into a closet.”
I follow her and feel my eyebrows climb into my hairline.
“Wow.”
She smiles with so much pride and joy that it makes me want to tug her close and hug her.
“I know.” She walks inside and stands on the other side of the island, drinks her wine, and gazes around happily. “This is the one project that I refused to put off. I needed a place for my clothes and bags. And shoes. And all of the pretty things.”
There are built-in racks and shelves around the room. She has a few bags on display, but there is still a lot of room for more of those. The racks for clothes, however, are practically bursting.