Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
He wasn’t feminine in any way—his strong form and straight spine made his toned chest more prominent through the form-fitting, light gray button-up shirt. Rayne was tall but still a couple of inches shorter than Mike’s own six three, with legs that went on for days in those tight jeans. An image of them wrapped around Mike’s waist shot through his mind so fast it made his throat go dry.
Mike was aware of his audience. He could feel Bishop’s and Trent’s eyes piercing through the back of his leather jacket, but he wasn’t ready to explain his recent feelings to his sons. He barely understood them. But if he didn’t get a hold of himself and chill out, Bishop would pick up on it faster than he was ready to talk about it. His son still had a ways to go learning how to read and getting his GED, but growing up on the streets, Mike had made damn sure that his son could read the intent of a man with one look into his eyes.
Mike could see Rayne’s intent too.
“Can you stare any harder than that? Damn,” Wood grumbled low enough for just them to hear. “At least try to be subtle.”
“You think I’m gonna trust your judgment, Wood? You’re dating Trent,” Mike muttered, ignoring his son’s pissed scowl. He wanted to keep ribbing them, but Rayne and his friend were now standing in front of him.
“Mike.” Rayne said his name in a smooth tone that sent a thrill thrumming through his veins. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Oh fuck. Mike was glad his feet were rooted in place because Rayne’s “pleasure to see him” made him feel off-balance. “How you been?” Mike asked, cringing at the roughness in his voice.
“I’m wonderful.”
That’s what Rayne’s mouth said, but Mike could tell it wasn’t the truth.
“And this is my friend Chelsea. Chels, this is Mike, Bishop and Trent’s father.”
Rayne’s friend eagerly stuck her hand out, and Mike was cautious of the sharp daggers jutting out from her fingertips. He wondered what kind of job she could have with nails that long and pointy. He hoped it wasn’t performing prostate exams. He slid his hand inside hers, his eyes still on Rayne. Not that she wasn’t attractive—he loved a full-figured woman. She just wasn’t him.
Awkward silence surrounded them, but Mike didn’t care as Rayne held his gaze a moment longer before he lowered his eyes. A part of Mike roared like a caged beast, greedy and territorial. Mike wanted to step closer and inhale the faint blush on those smooth cheeks, wondering what other scents he’d find in the bend of Rayne’s long neck. Already, he could smell a sweet, powdery fragrance that rivaled the perfume of the nearby hydrangeas, freshly mowed grass, and damp earth.
“So, um. Dinner is ready,” Edison said around an uneasy chuckle. “Let’s sit.”
“Oh my goodness. I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten a homemade meal that looked this good,” Chelsea said to Edison, a wide smile spreading her glossy lips.
Edison’s grin was shy and sweet on his round face. “You don’t cook?”
“No, honey. I order,” Chelsea joked, sitting in the seat beside Rayne.
They all gathered around the rectangular patio table, and Mike was quick to take the chair in front of Rayne but wasn’t surprised to see Wood on Rayne’s left, his seat too close to even allow him elbow room.
Mike ground his back molars and held his tongue… for now. But he’d meant it when he said Wood better stay out of his way if he was indeed going after what he wanted.
As they ate the amazing meal his son’s partner made for them, Mike tried to ignore Bishop’s inquisitive glare that was practically hollering at him, What the fuck are you doing?
Mike scowled back. I’ll explain later.
Bishop acknowledged him with a sharp nod, then continued eating his brisket and fried potatoes. “So, Rayne,” Bishop said loud enough to bring an immediate cease to the other private conversations going on. “What do you do?”
“Hmm.” Rayne lifted his eyes, seeming caught off guard as he hurried to finish chewing the food in his mouth before he answered, “Oh, I… I’m actually looking for employment at the moment.”
“What kind of work you looking for?” Bishop asked.
“Anything, really,” Wood answered, leaning his big head over to see Bishop. “Have you hired all the help you need for the summer yet?”
Mike dropped his fork with a loud clang, getting fed up with Wood acting as Rayne’s guardian, but before he could pipe up, Rayne turned and glowered at his friend, his gray eyes flashing with restrained anger. Mike’s excitement hit him in his groin first, then traveled up to his throat, leaving him speechless.
“Wood. I can speak for myself,” Rayne bit out, “and I’ve never done landscaping before. I’m sure a business of Bishop’s caliber requires knowledge of the field and experience to work for him.”