Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“What are you wearing?” she asks, squinting at the screen. “Is that new?”
I step back and model my tank top. “No, it’s not new. I found it in the back of my closet while packing my shit up in California before moving to Mom’s. Cute, huh?”
“Adorable.”
“I’m not showing you the shorts, but they’re cute too,” I say, then blow on my food. “They’re red and silky. You know, like that expensive crap you wear to bed.”
She huffs. “You look like a sweet little nanny. I, however, go to bed looking like I’m ready to fuck your brains out in case the opportunity arises.”
“Shh,” I say, laughing.
“Oops. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I scoop up a bite and shove it in my mouth. “Let’s just keep things PG-13 while I’m here.”
She whines. “Fine. So tell me about Chase. He’s not weird? Creepy? He’s not an Odd Bob, is he? Lock your door while you sleep, just in case. You’re too hot for your own good.”
You think I’m hot? I snort.
It occurs to me that I’ve never discussed what Chase looks like with Calista, aside from the grainy picture she saw of him online. Initially, avoiding his looks in conversations was intentional. My head was spinning. But since I’ve known who he was—Diesel Man—I haven’t brought it up. Sure, it helped that she was in New Mexico for the weekend and busy with work, but I’ve managed to avoid the question every time we’ve interacted.
I won’t get away with that for the next month.
“Chase?” I ask, taking another bite. How do I downplay this but get the point across? “He’s cute.”
“Cute?” Her voice is thick with curiosity. “Define cute.”
“You know what cute means. He’s … cute. Good bone structure.” Amazing body. “He has a great smile.” The hottest hands. “Nice … teeth.” Lips that I can imagine ravaging me.
Calista grins. “Nice teeth, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say, looking at my food and avoiding her stare. “Nice teeth are important.”
She stifles a laugh. “Megan.”
“What?”
“If you look at that and all you see is nice teeth, we have a problem.”
What?
I stand up straight, my fork falling to the countertop. My heart bursts into production.
Noooooo. This can’t be happening …
Behind me is a shirtless and smirking Chase Marshall.
Chapter Fifteen
Megan
I don’t want to turn around.
Chase stands within arm’s reach of me. A pair of black sleep pants makes his legs look longer. They dip on one hip, hanging in a way that highlights the muscles pointing at his groin.
As if I need a map to remind me of that.
My lips part, and I drag in a lungful of air. Shit.
“Wanna know what I see?” Calista asks, leaning toward the screen. “Because I’m making quite a list.”
“Calista, I gotta go.”
“No. Wait.” She waves. “Hi, Chase! I’m Calista, Megan’s best friend. I hear you have nice teeth.”
My cheeks heat. “Calista …”
“I’m just thrilled to hear she has a best friend.” He bumps my shoulder with his, sending a spark coursing through me. “She’s kind of irritating.”
I bump his shoulder back. “I am not.”
“She can be. I know,” Calista says.
Chase looks down at me, his smirk growing. “Did Megan tell you that you have competition?”
“With whom?” Calista demands.
“Don’t rile her up,” I say, grinning. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
“With whom?” she repeats. “You’ve been there not even three days, Megan. You can’t replace me already. I will come to Mayberry.”
Chase’s brows pull together. “Mayberry?”
“Let it go,” I say, laughing.
He slowly pulls his eyes from mine and turns to the phone. He places his forearms on the counter, leaning against the cabinets.
“Holy shit, Chase,” Calista says. “You are gorgeous.”
He snorts.
“Calista, please,” I say, my cheeks burning. “Please stop it.”
“Nice teeth, my ass. Speaking of, turn around, Chase,” she says. “Let me see your ass.”
“Enough,” I say, making Chase laugh. “Act like you have some damn sense.”
My admonishment is met with laughter—from both of them.
“So who is trying to replace me?” Calista asks. “We’re not acting like that wasn’t brought up.”
“My brother Gavin.”
“Does he look like you? And, if so, is he single?” she asks.
Chase grins. “No. He’s not nearly as good-looking as I am.”
“Fact check, Megs?” Calista asks me.
Fuck it. I lean against the counter too. My arms line up beside my boss’s, our shoulders nearly touching.
He smells fresh and clean—like soap and wood. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice he hasn’t shaved. No one deserves to be this hot.
I pull my thoughts together as I realize they’re waiting on me to respond.
“Is Gavin as good-looking as Chase?” I ask, my chest tightening. “Well, he’s much better-natured, I will say that.”
“That wasn’t the question,” Calista says.
Slowly, Chase turns his face toward mine. His eyes snag my gaze before I can look away.
Amusement dances across his features. The shield I usually find snapped into place is missing or, at least, isn’t as secure. He almost looks playful in the late-night hour. In fact, had I met this Chase instead of the grumpy cat version, I would’ve seen the family resemblance between him and Gavin right away.