Page 212 of One More Kiss

Chapter13

CJ

Several days passed.Several amazing, relaxing, and sizzling days. Johnny was definitely rough around the edges, but he was also kind, thoughtful, and gentle. Well, sometimes not so gentle in bed. I had more orgasms in four days than I had in ten years that weren’t self-induced.

Even with all the intense satisfaction, I managed to get nearly done with my manuscript. It was like a dream. I woke up with him worshipping me, then he would cook me breakfast, then go work on the trees on the trail while I wrote. I’d stop to make us lunch and take him cold drinks. After writing some more, he’d return, shower, and cook dinner for us, never letting me clean up.

We talked about everything, and nothing. He rubbed my feet while I watched my “murder shows” as he called them. His son and uncle stayed in contact with him. The rain had let up, but the crews were making their way around the town then up the mountain.

My boss gave me grief when I told him I was stuck, but I had my laptop and could work so I did when the workweek started.

Johnny overheard and asked a million questions about my job and if I liked it.

“Like is a strong word. It pays the bills.”

He was cleaning up the kitchen after dinner while I sipped Fireball at the island, not allowed to help. “But you want to write full time?”

“That’s the dream.” I spun in the chair. “My friends and I joke all the time. We all just want to move the woods and write books.”

“Move to the woods? Like hermits?”

I chuckled. “No. Well, actually, sort of. Writers aren’t very peopley usually.”

“So, you plan to live amongst the trees alone?”

“Ha! No! I mean like a cute little cabin, far away from crowds and noise.”

“So, what’s stopping you?” he asked as he grabbed a beer then grabbed my hand to lead me to the couch.

Once we were settled, tangled up with a murder show on, I answered. “Did you hear the part about bills and money?”

“Mmhhmm.” He mumbled as he rubbed my feet.

“Well that pretty much sums it up.”

“Is that all that’s stopping you?”

“Well, that’s kind of a problem. Why?”

“Because I have cabins in the woods.”

I jerked my feet from his hands. “And?”

He grabbed my feet and pulled them back over his lap. “And you could be in it. Writing and watching murder shows.”

I leaned up and put my hand over his. “Johnny that’s crazy. I’m having fun but seriously, I can’t give up my apartment and quit my job.”

“I didn’t say you had to give up your apartment, did I?”

“What are you saying then?”

He turned, pulling me closer by my legs. “CJ, you said before we’re both grown-ups. We’ve already both had plenty of bad, complicated relationships. This is good and simple. I want you to stay.”

My heart fluttered but sped up. “I…but—”

“Really. Even if you wanted to keep your job, that’s up to you. I can cover your apartment if you think you need to keep it.”

“What? How?”

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