Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“How is she supposed to put food on our table doing that?”
Our. Evie had been this woman’s meal ticket for long enough.
I’d been kicking around asking Evie to move in with me. We’d only been seeing each other six months, but it wasn’t easy to find time to spend together when she lived in Chicago and I had forty-one road games a season. Plus, I thought it would do her good to be close to her father and his wife, rather than Paula.
“I’m going to ask Evie to come live in Laurel Lake with me.”
“That will only do her harm.”
“How so?”
“When you live life on a merry-go-round and it suddenly stops, you find a way to make it spin again.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ll see. Me and my girl, we’re cut from the same cloth.”
CHAPTER 12
* * *
Jealous Much?
Fox
It was the fourth time I’d walked into the second-floor guest room this morning. I doubted I’d come in that many times over the last year. But the scenery from the window had recently changed, and it was pretty damn easy on the eyes. I had a bird’s-eye view of the yard next door, where Josie was currently stretched out on a yoga mat, ass up, in what I thought might be called downward dog.
I sipped my coffee as I watched, feeling a bit like a dog myself. Yet I couldn’t pry myself away. A few minutes later, though, it seemed the show was coming to an end. Josie rolled up the mat and disappeared inside. I had a shitload of things to get done today, and wasting time watching Little Miss Yoga Pants wasn’t one of them. So I took a quick shower, grabbed my to-do list from the kitchen table, and headed out. But the pickup truck parked at the curb stopped me in my tracks after only a few steps.
Fucking Porter. What the hell was he doing over there?
And why did I suddenly feel a need to break something?
I mentally added another item to my to-do list: Get my ass over to the rink and whack some pucks with a stick. It was either that or get laid, and I wasn’t much in the mood for what came before and after getting laid, namely polite conversation.
I stood on the porch for a few minutes, struggling to stop myself from going next door. There were a million reasons not to.
Shit to do.
Not interested—well, at least my head wasn’t. My dick seemed eager enough.
Punching an employee was frowned upon. Though he wasn’t at work at the moment…
I stared at my truck, trying to get my feet to walk toward it. But the fuckers wouldn’t budge.
Then I heard a laugh, a feminine one that floated through the air and did things inside my chest that I didn’t care for one bit. It was like someone had turned the heat up on the blood flowing through my veins. Warmth seeped into my upper body, giving me the sensation of being tucked under a flannel blanket next to a fire.
I shook the thought from my head. Seriously. What the fuck has come over me?
Pissed at myself, I forced one foot in front of the other and managed to climb into my truck and back out of the driveway.
Don’t look. Don’t look.
I gave myself a much-needed pep talk as I shifted the pickup into drive. But as I rolled past her mailbox, about to pass the big bay window, I realized I’d made a rookie mistake. I should’ve gone the other way. Because there was no way in hell I could stop myself from looking.
Porter’s smiling face had me slamming on the brakes and pulling to the curb so fast that I completely forgot the mailbox. I hit it with a loud bang.
Fuck my life.
I got out of the car and walked around to the side. My truck had a decent dent on the rear quarter panel, and the mailbox was on the ground. Worse, Josie was on her way out with Porter in tow.
“Are you okay?” Her face displayed genuine concern.
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
“I, uh, forgot something at the house. Went to turn around and missed the mailbox.”
Josie’s pink lips curved to a gloating smile. “It seems I’m not the only one capable of failing to see a bright red mail receptacle.”
I frowned. “You could at least pretend you’re not enjoying this.”
Her smile widened. “Who, me? I’m not enjoying anything.”
I’d somehow managed to forget all about the man standing behind her. Wishful thinking, I suppose. But once I noticed the smirk on his face, that’s where I drew the line. I pointed to his mouth. “You, I’m not going to tolerate the smile from.”
The fucker chuckled.
“What are you doing here anyway?” I snarled.
“Came by to drop off an easel for Josie.”
“Where is it?”
Porter thumbed toward the house. “Inside.”