Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” he gasped, jolting beside me. “You turned me into a giant fuckin’ goose bump. What the hell, Nash?”
“No?” I teased him, moving so I was over him before slowly giving him my weight, pressing him down, pinning him to the bed under me. “Should I stop?”
He took my face in his hands and pulled me down for another grinding, devouring kiss. It felt like he wanted to eat me whole.
“Promise me you’ll never leave me.”
“That’s the sex talking,” I said, kissing the curve where his neck met his shoulder, biting down, feeling his body twitch in my arms.
“It’s me talking,” he said, rolling me to my back.
I started laughing because we were going to need to change the sheets.
“Yeah, neither of us is a grown-up,” he said with a sigh before kissing me again. If this was how my life was going to be from now on, I was more than ready for it to start.
“You’re never going to leave me. Say it now so I can hear it,” he prodded me.
“I will never leave you or your annoying children, Luke Duchesne.”
“Good,” he replied, wrapping his arms around me. “That’s so very good.”
It was an excellent beginning.
THIRTEEN
We had gotten up, rinsed off in the shower, changed the bedding, unlocked our bedroom door, and then I made him roll over and tucked him into the curve of my body. He was out in seconds, and I was right behind him. I couldn’t remember ever sleeping better.
In the morning, I smelled coffee and got up—or tried to, but it took a minute, as I was stiffer and far more sore than anticipated. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I turned off the alarm and limped out to the kitchen in jeans, a T-shirt, and a heavy cable-knit button-up sweater that had seen better days. I borrowed Luke’s fuzzy house slippers because my feet hurt. I was a mess.
Viola put a cup of coffee in front of me and asked me what I took in it.
“Just cream,” I mumbled. “And thank you.”
“It always hurts more the second day,” she assured me as Tatum walked into the room in her bunny robe with the hood with the ears and matching bunny slippers and mittens.
“What’s with the mittens?” I asked her.
“My hands are cold,” she said, draping herself over my back, wrapping her arms around my neck, and kissing my cheek. “Where is your French press?”
“Your grandmother was kind enough to make coffee.”
“But you like your French roast in your French press.”
“Yes, but we’re appreciating your grandmother’s efforts at the moment.”
Viola chuckled. “That’s all right, Nash. Have what you like in your own house.”
“Aww, that was nice,” I said, smiling at her. “I need drugs.”
“I have that ibuprofen in my room I gave you yesterday.”
“May I have eight?”
“No, sir.”
“Oh, wait, Griff has an 800-milligram one from when he was hit by the chief of police. It’s in Luke’s bathroom.”
“I’ll get it while Tatum makes your coffee.”
“Thank you,” I groaned, putting my head down on the table.
A few moments later, there was a knock on the front door. The doorbell had not been rung, which was quite thoughtful at eight thirty in the morning on a Sunday.
“Tatum,” I called to her. “Go look but don’t open the door.”
She ran to the window where she’d sat to watch for me the night before.
“What do you see?”
“A big man with gray hair and a gun on his hip, and another man with red hair who’s smiling and waving at me. I think I should let them in. They look nice.”
“Even the guy with the gun?”
“Yeah, and he smiled at me too.”
“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath. “I need to implant some survival instincts in you.”
“Should I open the door or not?” She asked, sounding aggrieved.
At least she had the good sense to ask me. “Yes, open the door.”
She had to undo the deadbolt and then the lock, but she did it fast and welcomed the two men to her home.
“Thank you so much,” Owen said brightly, smiling at her. “My name is Owen, and you must be Tatum, the lady of the house.”
I heard her breath catch, then saw the smile she gave him. Clearly, she was already enchanted with him. “I am the lady of the house.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, shaking her mitten-covered hand. “And I have very similar bunny slippers at home.”
If her smile got any bigger, she’d explode.
“We’re friends of Nash’s,” he went on. “This is Jared Colter, Nash’s boss and—”
“Oh no,” she whimpered and bolted over to me.
Owen, laptop bag hanging over his right shoulder, a recyclable bag in his left hand, crossed the living room, followed by Jared, who’d stopped to lock the front door.
“Please don’t take Nash back,” she pleaded with Jared, draped over me again, her arms back around my neck, trying to shield me from my boss. “My dad loves him, I love him, my brothers love him. Wink too, even though Nash will have to take him to the vet for more shots.”