Brooke
Chapter
Twelve
Wednesdays are my favorite because they are my day off and I get to sleep in. Now, I know that seven isn’t considered sleeping in to most, but to me, it’s absolutely glorious.
Today was even better because when I woke up, there was a picture of the bakery from Daisy in my text message inbox.
Every seat was taken, and there was a line at the register.
My first instinct was to jump out of bed and rush to help her, but her text said she was fine.
She was convinced people were there to be nosy, hoping I'd stop in and give them more inside scoop about what’s going on with Dutton and me.
I can’t help but laugh.
Who would have thought that forming a friendship with Dutton Richford would cause the bakery to pick up business?
Definitely not me.
But it sure makes my day more enjoyable knowing things are good.
What’s not good?
The fact that I need to finish disputing credit card charges and getting all the paperwork in line to clear my credit.
The great news is, I do not have to pay back any debt accrued by identity theft as long as I report and dispute it.
The bad news is, my mother created one hell of a list for me to dispute.
An hour later, my eyes hurt from filing reports, but the filing system I’ve created on my computer to save every single detail is done.
There is still more for me to do, but I’m definitely on a break.
I grab my phone just to be sure Daisy is still doing okay, when I see a text from Dutton.
My heartbeat quickens as I smile, tucking my legs under me to settle into the couch and read what he says. He never texts me during the day, and it’s not even lunch yet.
Dutton
What is knife play?
I gasp and drop my phone onto the couch cushion in front of me.
No. No. No. No. He actually started reading the book.
I look to my left and then to my right as if there is someone else here with me I can talk to about this. My heart pounds faster and faster, and nervous, anxious, excited tears prick at my eyes.
Then I start laughing.
“This would happen. He would keep his word and read this book,” I say to the empty living room.
How do I respond to this? Obviously, I have to. Dutton and I might not know everything about each other, but I know enough that if I don't respond now, he’ll message me again, and if I still don’t say anything, he will ask me in person.
Texting, where he can’t see how rosy my cheeks most definitely just became, is the route I need to go with.
I’m also choosing the unbothered route.
Dutton wants to broach the subject of sex through text.
Challenge accepted.
My phone buzzes again.
Dutton
Jesus, Books. Are you into this kind of kink?
I’ll get to the topic in a moment, but I let this new nickname soak in.
Books.
I’m still in love with it.
I scrunch my nose as I think of a reply, but Dutton sends another text and another in rapid fire.
Dutton
Wait. Don’t answer that.
Dutton
No. Do.
Dutton
Is it just a book obsession?
Dutton
The word pussy was just used three times on one page, and what is this girl? A running faucet with how wet she is?
Dutton
You could have warned me that the book would start like this.
Dutton
Shit, did you not start it yet? Am I spoiling it?
My head falls back in laughter, imagining him reading this book. Oh, to be a new reader to the romance world again.
I’m jealous.
I think a two-word response is best here.
Brooke
You’re welcome.
I laugh again, feeling pretty damn cheeky, when my phone vibrates once more. This time, Dutton is calling me. Not just any call either.
He’s FaceTiming me.
Shit.
I scramble, running my hands in my hair to flatten the flyaways, and then I smooth a hand over my shirt.
I greet him with my best smile.
I am met with a scowl.
“Is this a prank?” He asks. “Did you tell Sadie we were coming to the bar that night and then you somehow Jedi mind-tricked me into the bookstore to buy this book? Do you really read these books?”
There is nothing fake about the smile that remains on my lips.
“No tricks here, Big D. Alas, these are the books I love.”
He groans.
“Don’t call me Big D.”
“Why not? You gave me a nickname.”
“Yeah, and it fits you because you love books. A nickname should resemble the person in some way.”
“Ohhhh, well, it could work if you have a big—” I gasp and cover my mouth. I was fully ready to ask him about the size of his dick. But shit, I’m all in now. “Does big not describe your … you know?”
His gaze locks on me, his body leaning back in his office chair, revealing his bare chest.
Why on earth is this man sitting at work not wearing a shirt?
“Are you asking me how big my dick is, Books?”
I twist my lips and debate how to answer.
“It just slipped out.”
“Ah, much like the dude’s cock in this woman’s vagina, I imagine.”
I burst into laughter. Dutton does the same.
Wow. He's adorable when he laughs like that.
“If you aren’t going to give it a chance, you’re not allowed to talk about it. There is more to the story than sex. I assume you—”
“Have you read this book already?” he interrupts.
“Not all the way, but I’ve read this author, and she's never let me down. Either you read the book and give me honest updates or you forget about it.”
He nods, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, causing his biceps to flex and drawing my gaze to his entire upper body, allowing me to enjoy how beautiful he is.
Because he is.
Like maddeningly gorgeous.
“Okay, let’s do this for real. I’m intrigued,” he says.
“No making fun of anything?”
“All right, but I’m going to have questions.”
“I’ll accept that.”
“Good.” He sighs. “I should probably get back to work. I met up with the guys for a round of basketball over lunch, and I saw this book still in my truck when I got back to the office.”
“And somewhere in there, you forgot to put a shirt back on,” I add.
He glances down as if he’d forgotten he wasn’t wearing one and nods.
“Jury is still out on the heater here.”
I had no idea it was broken, but it can stay that way.
“At least I'm not wearing a T-shirt with holes in it,” he counters.
“Hey, this is my favorite sleep shirt.”
“You sleep in that?”
“Yes.
“Just that?"
“And my panties.”
“Jesus.”
“What? You asked. Plus, we were just talking about dicks slipping out of vaginas. I sort of figured no subject was off-limits now.”
He groans again and sits up.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he says, shooting me a wink before hanging up.
I stare at the reflection of myself on the phone for a solid fifteen seconds, before it hits me how hard I'm grinning.
We never discussed hanging out again tonight, but I guess this is just our routine now.
I can't believe he wants to hang out again.
I can’t believe it excites me.
I move to get on with my day, but my phone buzzes again.
I let out a laugh.
Gosh, he’s becoming obsessed.
I think I like it.
No.
I know I like it.
All cheeriness fades as I see the notification from the dating app Dutton wants me to delete.
A message from Tony, to be more specific.
The giddiness that filled my body disappears as I read.
Are you sure about that?
It’s probably harmless, but goosebumps cover my skin.
I type out a quick yes and press send, then do exactly what Dutton told me I should have done days ago.
I delete the app.
There.
Problem solved.