Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Am I dreaming?
“What kind of number were you hoping for?” I ask.
She processes that question quietly, her gaze tracking around the small office. “Well, I could come in as a partner on Sluggers for fifty thousand—”
“Really? That’s exactly what I was going to offer you.”
“Really.” She jolts forward slightly in her seat. “Fifty thousand dollars?”
I desperately try to swallow the taste of acid in my mouth. I do not like lying to this girl. Also, if she’d said a million dollars, I probably would have figured out a way to take out a loan. She’s that amazing—and she’s worth a lot more than $50K. I just don’t have millions to my name yet—and maybe I never will, unless I find a way into the NHL. “Yeah. Fifty.” I can’t stop myself from soaking up the opportunity to find out more about her. Up to this point, she has kept most of our conversations surface level. “I didn’t realize you wanted to become an owner here.”
“Well. Maybe that’s . . . maybe I’m not qualified. I don’t know.” Her cheeks are turning pink. She’s so cute, I’m not going to survive the night. “It has just been my home for a long time. My mom worked here when I was a kid. I used to do my homework on the bar after school while she cut up limes and married the liquor bottles. Once I got older, I started helping the cook plate food and running it to tables. And then my mom . . .” A shadow flickered in her eyes. “Sometimes she didn’t feel like working, and I just kind of . . . stepped in. This place has stuck around for me and . . .” She shakes herself, like she’s said too much. “I’ve always planned to make Pablo an offer once I got the money together. I just expected it to be years from now.”
Am I actually beginning to feel hopeful about this? Is there a chance I could end up married to the girl I’ve been borderline obsessed with for a year? “Maybe you don’t have to wait that long.”
Several beats pass while she studies me. Thoughtfully.
“Maybe.” She puts air into her cheek and lets it out. “What would be the terms?”
I did not think we’d get this far. I have zero terms.
“Obviously, this would be a business arrangement only.” She waits for me to confirm, but I don’t. I’m not sure it’s possible for me to treat this like some kind of platonic bargain. “You would be giving me money in exchange for marriage. I’m your ticket to extending your time in Connecticut. We could work on getting your green card while you wait to be scouted.”
“Right.” My head is in the game now. “And a green card is going to require a lot of planning. We’ll have to get mail at the same address. We’ll have to know things about each other for the eventual interview. We’ll need pictures together. Proof we’re a couple.”
Is she growing paler? “Which means spending time together.”
“I don’t smell that bad, Britta. Once I shower.”
A ghost of a smile moves her lips, but they quickly flatten into a worried line. “If we did this, it wouldn’t be a real relationship. Not physical or emotional. You’d be okay with that?”
No. What choice do I have, though?
And maybe a miracle will happen and she’ll change her mind about a relationship with me. It’s a long shot, but I’ve learned to never count out an underdog. This time it’s me. “Yeah, Britta. I’d be okay with that.”
“Really.”
She taps her index finger against her knee, and my attention is drawn there like a magnet, sliding higher on her bare thighs, before I remember my manners and refasten my gaze where it belongs. On her beautiful face.
When she speaks again, I’m not prepared for the tone of voice she uses.
It’s quiet and intimate. Like a husky purr. It instantly twists my abdomen muscles into a knot, my Adam’s apple getting stuck high beneath my chin.
“Are you sure, Sum?”
The fly of my jeans suddenly feels like shrink-wrap. Way too tight. “Sure about what?”
“Your ability to keep this friendly.” Slowly, she rises from her chair and, miracle of miracles, moves into the V of my thighs, bringing her sexy, round tits within inches of my face, and my manners become a thing of the past. I don’t remember ever having them. My chest rattles up and down as this girl, this fifteen out of ten, straddles me, parking her hypnotic ass on my thighs . . . and begins to play with my beard, twisting it around her index finger. I’m reeling from that contact when life gets even better. She leans in and rubs her lips side to side against mine, transforming my dick to wrought iron in my pants. “I see the way you watch me. I think you like me a little too much for this to be nothing but a business arrangement.” She gently touches her tongue to the seam of my lips, and I hiss like a teakettle, my hips shifting restlessly. “Don’t you, Sumner?”