Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Something about Ian’s phone call last night set me on edge. It wasn’t the fact that he’s looking for her. It was the way he described her. Bitch. Fat pig. Frigid.
I wanted to punch my own kid in the mouth. I can’t pretend I’m the best father out there. But I’ve tried to connect with Ian. When he was young, I took him camping and fishing. I showed up at his school events and birthdays, as much as my job allowed me to. Last night made me realize that he’s too self-absorbed to ever care about anyone but himself.
Still, I can’t afford to let myself get distracted by what I wish would happen. I have to stay focused on protecting Brooke. It’s obvious she’s been alone in this fight and those days are long gone. I’m here now and by extension so are Colt and Brody.
Pushing myself from the couch, I make my way to the kitchen. Brooke is playing a pop station from the radio. Her t-shirt hangs off one shoulder as she shimmies her curvy body. I want to press my lips to that creamy skin then I want to rip that shirt open and put my mouth all over those luscious tits of hers.
The song changes and she lights up, humming along to the lyrics. Losing herself in the music makes it seem as if the weight of the world has fallen off her shoulders and she’s simply having fun.
She pauses long enough to flip a pancake, and Luna nudges the back of Brooke’s knee expectantly. I know what that gesture means.
She drops to Luna’s eye level, and those tight yoga pants of hers are making my pants tight. She handfeeds her a piece of bacon and I’ve never been so damn jealous of my dog in my life. “OK but this is the last one. I don’t know if I’m supposed to give this to you. It’ll stay between us, right?”
“Not more than a couple of pieces,” I warn her.
She straightens and turns to me. In the morning light, she looks a little better than she did yesterday. More relaxed and less guarded. I still don’t know how we’re going to get her out, but we should have some time to come up with a plan.
I nod to Luna. “She gets a tummy ache if she gets more than a few bites at a time.”
Brooke glances at Luna who licks her lips, not looking the least bit repentant. “Sorry, no more for you, girl. Daddy says no.”
“Do you need a hand?” I offer trying to ignore the way her breathless tone only makes me harder. I want her underneath me, calling me that way. I want her voice hoarse from crying out her pleasure. I want to hear my name on her lips again and again.
“I wanted to make smiley face pancakes but you’re all out of chocolate chips and whipped cream.” She continues talking but I can’t hear her words.
Ideas of what I could do with whipped cream float into my mind. Dirty, forbidden things that I have no business thinking about. She’s young and innocent. She came to me for help, and I won’t take advantage of her trust.
“Could you grab the plates for me?” She asks, gesturing to the cabinet. They’re not out of her reach but I still grab them. She uses the moment to press herself up against me. Her tits graze my bicep for just a second before she backs away and focuses on flipping the pancake.
“Sorry.” Her voice is sing-song and she’s acting like she unintentionally brushed against me. But I don’t buy it.
During breakfast, she keeps touching my arm. At least she does until she spills a glass of orange juice all over the floor. Fuck me, I’d find her clumsy flirting attempts annoying if it were anyone else. But it’s not. This is Brooke and there’s nothing sexier than her awkward attempts to get my attention.
Brooke
I’m pretty sure this is not the way you seduce your ex-boyfriend’s dad. First, I pretended to bump against him, then I accidentally burned his bacon, and finally I spilled orange juice all over the floor. It’s official. I’m a flirting disaster.
I’ve always found computers more fascinating than boys. From the time I was seven, I spent hours studying them. First the hardware then the software. Now I can build everything from the ground up myself. It’s a skillset that’s given me a lot of confidence.
I wish that confidence also extended to my interactions with men. Or more specifically with this man. I want to send Ryker a signal that I’m into him but I’m pretty sure the only signal he’s getting is that I’m a hot mess.
Searching for a conversation topic that’s safe, I remember what he told me at the party three years ago. He mentioned wanting to buy a plane. “Did you end up buying yourself a plane? You said you would when you retired.”