Bidding On The Bachelor. Kerri Carpenter

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Bidding On The Bachelor - Kerri  Carpenter


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gesture. “Don’t worry, it’s still really early. I never sleep late.”

      She tilted her head in consideration. That was different from high school, when she’d always wait until at least eleven to call him on the weekends.

      “I have some exercise equipment in one of the spare bedrooms. Helps me clear my head.”

      One of the spare rooms? “Exactly how big is this place?”

      He grinned. “Three bedrooms, two and a half baths, a nice loft over the living room, and killer views.”

      A large, most likely expensive, condo. Just like she’d had with her husband in Chicago. Although her condo with Preston had been done in all beige and neutral tones, looking more like the model home real estate agents showed prospective clients than someone’s living quarters. Jasper’s place, on the other hand, had more of an edgy, urban vibe. Plus, she kinda wanted to marry these amazing wood floors.

      “I’ll go make us some coffee.”

      With that, he left the room and Carissa quickly chomped down the toast and swallowed the aspirin. Then she jumped from the bed, grabbed her jeans off the dresser and ran into the bathroom. Of course, she stopped to admire his killer walk-in closet on the way. The bathroom was just as nice and tastefully done as the rest of the place. Double vanity, separate soaker tub, and a shower that looked like it had no less than a hundred showerheads.

      She stopped gawking at everything and she was very proud to say that she did not give in to the temptation to go through his medicine cabinet. Instead, Carissa quickly dressed, splashed some water on her face, did her best job of brushing her teeth with her finger, and ran a comb through her hair. Not a massive improvement, but definitely better than a couple minutes ago.

      The aroma of coffee reached her nose and she followed it out to the kitchen. And if she thought she coveted the wood floors or the orgasmic shower, that was nothing compared to his kitchen. New stainless steel appliances, a farmhouse sink, and a gorgeous island that looked to be made out of reclaimed wood on the bottom and marble counter on top. She ran her hands along the cool stone and tried to keep from drooling.

      “You like?”

      “It kind of makes my aunt’s tiny kitchen seem like an anthill.”

      “Is that where you plan to start your business from?”

      “Of course.” As he handed her a mug of steaming hot coffee, it occurred to her that he didn’t realize her full situation. Jasper had no way of knowing that she was broke and desperate.

      “You should consider renting out a space for a year or so. That would give you some separation. Plus, it would be better for meeting with clients. I could show you some places, give you a couple recommendations.”

      She sipped the coffee. “I thought we called a truce only for last night.”

      He considered. “Showing you real estate would be business.”

      Oh. Not really the answer she’d wanted. Then again, what did she expect? He’d been kinder to her than she deserved.

      She ran a hand through her hair. “This coffee’s good.”

      “Thanks. It’s from The Brewside. A coffeehouse in the town square,” he finished, clearly realizing she wouldn’t be familiar with the changes in Bayside.

      She put the mug down on the counter. “No, thank you. For getting me here last night, the coffee, for picking my clothes up, the toast. You didn’t have to do all of that.”

      “I would have done it for anyone.”

      Again, not the response she’d expected. The sides of her mouth turned down in a frown.

      “I would have let you sleep longer,” he said, “but I have to get to work shortly and I didn’t want you to wake up in a strange environment.”

      She eyed the clock above the stove. “It’s still really early.”

      “I like to get into the office early.”

      “Of course,” she said, and pointed toward the door. “I’ll just get out of your hair.”

      “No, Car, I didn’t mean you had to leave. Stay as long as you want.”

      She shook her head. “I’m sure you don’t want some hungover girl lolling around in your place.”

      “I’ve had plenty of girls, hungover and stone-cold sober, loll around here.” He snapped his mouth shut.

      Plenty of girls. She looked away. What did she think? Jasper hadn’t been dating for the last ten years? He became some kind of monk or something? Look at him. He was probably fending off women left and right.

      “That didn’t come out right,” he said sheepishly.

      Carissa held up a hand. “It’s fine, Jasp. Don’t worry about it.” He seemed uncomfortable still. “What? Is there something else?”

      He eyed his coffee mug. “Just something that happened last night. You probably don’t remember but we...”

      “Kissed,” she finished. And what a kiss it had been. But after his “plenty of women” comment, she decided to keep that to herself. “I do remember.”

      “I’m really sorry about that.”

      He was? Because despite everything else, she wasn’t sure that she was sorry. In fact, she kind of liked it. “Why in the world would you be sorry?”

      He ran a hand through his hair. “You were drunk, Carissa. I took advantage of you.”

      She let out a relieved breath. “Jasp, we’ve kissed each other a million times before.”

      “I know, but...” He trailed off and she wondered what he wanted to say. Finally, he said, “More coffee?”

      She shook her head. When he turned and crossed to the opposite counter to refill his own mug, his phone vibrated, dancing across the surface of the island. She tried not to look but couldn’t help it. It was too close. Close enough to see a text message from someone named Simone Graves.

      Morning, cutie. Sorry I missed having drinks w/u last nite. I’ll make up for it. Promise. This was punctuated by a kissy-face emoji.

      Wasn’t it a tad bit early for emojis of any kind? Carissa couldn’t contain the sigh.

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