Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 138315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 692(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 692(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
In a big way.
Three top-shelf brands, five flavors.
I picked Starbucks white chocolate mocha, put Axl’s note next to my purse on the counter, tinkered with the machine for a few seconds to find out how to do it before I set the Nespresso to running, and then moved to check out what was behind the three doors in the kitchen.
Side by side on the back wall: one, to a large garage, the other, to a walk-in pantry/utility room with washer and dryer.
The door on the front wall that had a half window led to a rectangular deck that jutted out at the front of the house. The deck was probably twice the size of mine, had high walls around it, like mine, but without the lattice see-throughs.
Total privacy.
On the deck were two moon chairs with a glass-top table, all this (except the glass, obviously) black. A black-and-white zigzag-patterned rug lay under them.
And last, there was a built-in, corner Jacuzzi, big enough for two.
That Jacuzzi didn’t give me a little thrill.
It gave me a nice shiver.
Still feeling the shiver, I turned and headed back to the coffee when I noticed Dainty Cat had joined me.
She sat on the kitchen floor just inside the door, tail swishing, staring at me with eyes that were indeed golden.
And she was in full judgment.
“You’d look around too,” I defended.
She silently disagreed, expressed her disdain for my actions, her dislike of my person, and her indignation I was still there, all of this with swift, feline efficiency, then she got up and sauntered out.
I watched her go, already half in love with her.
I went back to my bag, grabbed my phone, stirred my coffee with the kick-butt spoon and texted Axl.
I’m up. Managed to figure out coffee.
Your house is rad.
And thanks for the offer, but I don’t want
to interfere with your busy day.
I’ll call a Lyft.
See you tonight.
And thanks for not minding that
I woke you up last night.
I sent that and then sent:
Oh, and your cat is gorgeous.
And after that, I sent:
And your mattress is awesome!
I was so in the zone of happiness, in Axl’s house, drinking Axl’s coffee, being judged by Axl’s cat, freely texting Axl, that it didn’t occur to me not to tell Axl his mattress was awesome.
I mean, it was.
But I didn’t have to tell him that until maybe later, if that fabulous time came when he was on it with me.
I barely got a sip of my delicious coffee (white chocolate mocha, my God, who knew?) and nowhere near enough time to freak out about my mattress text before I got a reply.
I want to take you home.
I can be there in 30. You okay
to hang until I get there?
Was I okay to hang on his deck in his awesome moon chairs staring at his two-person Jacuzzi, thinking of him kissing me in it while I felt up his chest, all of this because he wanted me to hang due to the fact he wanted to take me home?
Heck to the yes.
Can I hang on your deck?
You can do anything you
want, baby.
Upon me reading this, Dainty Cat joined me again in the kitchen in order to confirm her worst fears: I was still there.
She then left.
In that time, I hadn’t gotten over Axl’s last text.
But thirty minutes wasn’t three hours and I was still in his tee with bedhead.
I dealt with that, made his bed, found he had European pillows piled on the floor next to one of the nightstands. (A man who had European pillows? How did I get this lucky?)
And I was out on the deck with my coffee and plenty of time to text Brett.
Thank you again for not letting
me blow it.
And I know your sisters aren’t in Alaska
to put space between them and you.
I hope you feel you can tell me the
story one day.
What I know right now is that I’ve
never had a big brother, but still,
you’re the best one ever.
I soaked up some vitamin D, drank my coffee out of Axl’s hip coffee glass, and got back from Brett:
Pleased it worked out, sweetheart.
Speak soon. ♥♥
Now seriously.
What motherfucker put heart emojis on his texts?
I was still contemplating this, and a fair few other things (most of those other things having to do with the Jacuzzi, none of them having to do with contacting Dad to tell him it was pizza delivery for him that night—I’d tackle that later, after some of my joy died down and he had less time to make a fuss about it) when I heard a car approach then a garage door go up.
Not knowing the neighborhood sounds, and since the houses were close in Baker, I couldn’t be sure, but just in case it was Axl, I got up and went into the kitchen.
I was done with my coffee anyway and needed to clean the glass.