Love On Anchor Island: An Anchor Island Novel by Terri Osburn (world best books to read .txt) 📕

video over and over. Our goal is twenty million views in the first twenty-four hours.”

Twenty million? “Is that even possible?”

She leaned back in the chair and held the phone in front of her nose. “NCTzens don’t have a great history when it comes to streaming, but we’re determined to make the boys proud this time around.”

Pretending she understood any of that, Roxie tilted her head. “Who is that in the back of your phone?”

“Mark.”

Not what she expected. “Is he part of this NCB thing?”

“NCT,” Emma corrected. “And yeah, he’s my bias. I mean, not my ult bias. My ult ult will always be Baekhyun—he’s in EXO—but Mark is my bias in NCT 127. He was my bias in Dream, but he isn’t in Dream anymore, so now my Dream bias is Jaemin, but him and Jeno are, like, a package deal, and I can’t really choose between the two of them.”

Roxie was regretting ever starting this conversation, but curiosity got the better of her. “What do they sound like?

“What?” Emma mumbled.

“NCT. What do they sound like?”

Emma touched the screen on her phone, and then sat up straighter. “You really want to hear it?”

She hadn’t expected the girl to be so shocked. “Yeah. I’m always up for finding new music.”

Dropping the AirPod to the desk, Emma swiped the screen and two taps later, a sharp guitar sound echoed from the phone, before a chorus of male voices starting changing “Let me introduce you to some new thangs…”

The song went on and Roxie caught bits in English. Something about a bass drum and Bruce Lee. “I like it,” she said as Emma stared at her, eyes wide with expectation.

“It’s good, right?” she said with a wide grin.

Roxie unlocked her phone and slid it across the desk. “Add them for me.”

The teenager blinked. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I’ll add it to my running playlist. Sounds like the perfect song for a workout.”

Filling the request, Emma offered the highest praise a teenager could give. “You’re all right, Ms. Roxie.”

Ignoring how old the Ms. Roxie part made her feel, she shifted her elbow on her knee and said, “Thanks, kid.”

Chapter Ten

If Roxie moaned like that one more time, he was never buying her cheesecake again.

“I would ask if you want another piece,” Alex said, “but you’ve had two already.”

A third would mean more moaning, and he was already struggling not to drag her to the bedroom. Not that they’d crossed that line yet, but after spending the last five evenings together either watching movies or making out on his couch, he was hoping things might progress that way soon.

But first, they needed to work out this job issue so she’d stop talking about leaving.

“Don’t judge.” She wiped her mouth and set the empty plate on the coffee table. “What’s that for?” Roxie asked, eying the legal pad in his hand.

“Brainstorming.”

“What are we brainstorming?”

He set the pen and pad in her lap. “Jobs for you. We’ll start with the businesses you’ve already looked into, and I’ll add the ones you’ve missed.” Roxie held up her left hand, and Alex took the pad back. “Right. I’ll take the notes.”

Though better, writing was still difficult for her with the injured thumb.

“I’ve talked to the coffee shop, the rental office, the fitness center, and the Trading Post,” she counted off. “No openings.”

“What about the hotels?” he asked, still writing the ones she already said.

“Neither of Sam’s have any openings. The Waterfront Inn said maybe closer to summer, and the Starfish said no.” Roxie crossed her ankles on the coffee table and tucked herself against his side. “The rest that I could find are bed & breakfasts and don’t hire out.”

Alex tapped the pen against his chin. “There has to be something. Have you talked to Callie?”

“Not about my job hunt, no, but I told you the hotels aren’t hiring.”

“Not the hotels. The wedding planning business.”

Roxie jerked away. “There’s a wedding planning business?”

This clearly piqued her interest. “Have you done that before?”

She pulled her legs up under her and nearly bounced with excitement. “My favorite temp job was for an event coordinator. I was only there for six months, but I loved the fast pace and how every day was different.”

“Then you need to talk to Will Navarro. I’m pretty sure she owns it, but Callie works with her maybe?” Alex shook his head. “I might be remembering that wrong, but either way, it’s called Destination Anchor, and you never know. Will might need some help.”

Her enthusiasm waned. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. What if she wants someone with more experience?”

They really needed to work on her pessimism. “Roxie, how many years have you worked in offices?”

“Six,” she replied. “But never more than a year at the same place.”

“Then you have a variety of experience. And you’ve worked on events. How many other people on this island do you think can say the same?”

With a hopeful smile, she settled against him again. “You’re really good at this cheerleader stuff.”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” he murmured, putting his arm around her.

Roxie stretched her legs across his lap. “I know you can cook. And you’re good with punctured thumbs. What other services do you offer, Dr. Fielding?”

“I can sew,” he said, pulling her onto his lap.

Her husky giggle made his pants tighten. “You’re lying.”

Alex kissed behind her ear. “A man doesn’t lie about his ability to sew.”

Sliding her arms around his neck, Roxie whispered. “What else?”

“There’s one thing I’m really good at.” His hand dipped beneath the hem of her top. “I could show you.”

Breath heavy, she nodded. “You should do that.”

With one quick movement, Alex rose off the couch, lifting her with him. By the time they reached the bedroom, they were both breathless and desperate. “Are you sure you’re good with this?” he asked, setting her on her feet at the foot of the bed.

Roxie shoved the T-shirt up his torso. “I’ve been trying not to jump you for the last three days.”

Ripping the shirt