Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“For how long?” he asks, his voice gruff.
“I don’t know. Until we’re done.”
“What if we’re never done?” he counters.
I shrug again. “Then, we cross that bridge when we get there. Your life is hectic, and I’m starting a new job. Neither of us has the time or energy to put into something serious. I say we lay low and play it by ear.”
“You’re telling me we steal kisses when no one else is looking?” There’s an edge of disbelief in his tone.
“Something like that.” I smile up at him.
“We’re playing with fire, Corie girl.”
“We both have our eyes wide open. We won’t get burned.”
He leans in close. “Having more of your kisses is worth the scar of the burn.” He takes my mouth yet again, and I moan into the kiss. It’s fast and demanding, and he's pulling away again before I can catch my bearings. “We’ve been gone too long. Go inside and go out the back door. I’m going to handle this”—he places me on my feet and nods to his hard length—“and get changed. I’ll be out in a few.”
“So… kisses?”
“All of my kisses are yours, Corie, until you tell me you no longer want them.”
“Careful, Beckett,” I tease. “I might take them all until the end of time.”
He nods, pecks my lips one more time, and takes a step back, putting some much-needed distance between us. “They’re yours,” he says, before turning and walking back around the house.
With a deep inhale, I rush to the front porch, slip inside, and head to the bathroom just off the kitchen. I hear the patio door open, and Landry calls out for me.
“Corie!”
“Hold on!” I call back. I flush the toilet, even though I didn’t use it, and wash my hands before pulling open the door. “What?” I call back.
Landry’s standing at the kitchen island. “I thought you got lost. Did Knox leave?”
“I don’t think so. I walked him to his truck and left to come use the bathroom.”
“You okay?” He furrows his brow. “Your face is a little flushed.”
“I’m good. Something didn’t agree with me.” I place my hand over my belly to, hopefully, pull off the lie.
“You need anything?”
“Nah, I’m good. Thank you, big brother.” Guilt washes over me for lying to him, but I push it down, telling myself it’s a few harmless kisses. We’re both adults. We can make these choices without my brother or anyone else knowing or sharing their thoughts about our decision.
The front door opens, and Knox walks in. His hair is mussed, and he looks sexy as hell. I can feel my face heat, knowing what we just shared and what we agreed to in the dark shadows of my brother's yard.
“What took you so long?” Landry asks him.
“Everly called about wedding planning,” he says, not missing a beat. “I sat in my truck and talked to her for a few minutes.”
“How’s that going?” he asks.
“Good. She’s got it all under control. I think she uses the wedding as an excuse to call and check on me. I might be two years older than her, but she treats me as if I’m ten years younger.”
“She just worries about you,” I tell him. His eyes finally find mine, and he gives me a soft smile.
“She’s right. She would know a little something about that,” Landry teases, tossing his arm over my shoulders.
“Well, you better get changed and hurry up. The guys were ready to send a search party,” Landry teases. He pulls me a little closer. “The things we do for our little sisters.” He kisses my cheek and turns us as we make our way back outside.
I make a beeline for the loungers off to the far side of the pool and take up residence. I spot Sloane on the other side, and she casually strolls over to sit beside me. The guys are laughing and horsing around as Landry jumps into the water, making a huge splash. A few minutes later, Knox walks out of the house and does the same, yelling, “Cannonball!” as he barrels into the pool, ensuring everyone gets soaked in the process.
Everyone except Sloane and me. We’re sitting too far away to be heard or to get wet, which is by design. She’s been quiet, but I know she’s dying to ask questions.
“Are we going to sit in silence all night, or are you going to tell me what happened?”
“When?” I don’t turn to look at her, or I’ll crumble and spill all—not that I won’t anyway—but I need to make her work for it.
“Corie!” she scolds quietly, so as not to be heard.
“Fine, but you can’t get all excited. This needs to appear to be a normal, non-exciting conversation. If you can’t handle that, we’ll wait until they’re all gone. You also need to keep this between us. No one can know about this. No one.”