Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Something niggled at my memory, there and gone so fast that I couldn’t hold on to it.
“Does Vito hunt?” Creed wondered.
“Not really.”
“Huh,” he said. “That’s surprising.”
“Why?”
“Well, and not to be sexist here, but girls don’t usually hunt unless someone teaches them to hunt. Or encourages them maybe. A girl just deciding to take up hunting is kind of odd, don’t you think?”
I thought about that for a moment before saying, “Not to be completely an asshole about Cody, but she’s always struck me as odd. And I’ve hated her for the attention she got from my dad for the majority of my life. I can’t tell you what’s really ‘odd’ or not with her, because everything is tainted with jealousy. My vision is practically green when I look at her, even when I’m trying to get along with her, it’s still there in the background.”
He reached out for my hand and squeezed it.
Warm butterflies took root in my belly, and I was reminded of his words at the diner.
“Am I?” I asked.
He glanced at me quickly before returning his eyes to the road. “Are you what?”
“Yours.”
His hand tightened on mine. “I think you’ve been mine for a long time, and I haven’t been willing to admit it.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Creed?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
I swallowed hard as the words started to stick in my throat.
But somehow I managed to get them out. “I want to be yours.”
Just as I said those words, the truck started to slip again.
He got it under control and dropped his speed down even more before he rasped, “Wish we weren’t in this truck right now, or I’d pull you into my arms and show you how ‘mine’ you actually are.”
The way he said those words sent a shiver down my spine.
Anticipation zinged at my every nerve ending.
By the time we ended up at Creed’s place, I couldn’t even enjoy the view because I was practically squirming in my seat.
I knew the moment we were inside I’d be in his arms.
I knew that he’d kiss me.
I knew that this was what I’d been desperately waiting for for what felt like the entirety of my life.
I felt like I was in one of my romance novels, right at the climax of the story that…
A truck with a snowplow zoomed past us as we turned into Creed’s driveway.
A heavy pile of snow barricaded us in, and unless we wanted to spend hours digging ourselves out, we would be here for a while.
Then again, based on the weather models, the storm that was said to be heading this way would only make it even more impossible.
Cody.
How thoughtful of her not to care about who she was blocking in with the stupid snowplow truck that my dad let her use like she owned it…
But even she couldn’t beat this feeling that was filling my chest.
Butterflies were swarming my belly as Creed parked and reluctantly let my hand go.
I unbuckled carefully, still very aware of my arm.
My door opened and I turned to see Creed there with his arms out.
I went into them, but instead of him putting me down on the ground, he guided my legs around his waist and said, “Hang on. My front walk is really uneven.”
I knew that very, very well. In fact, I had stitches underneath my chin from when I was six and had been running up them in the exact same conditions.
But even the thought of being in my old house, where almost every single one of my good memories of my life was staged, couldn’t dim my excitement at being in Creed’s arms. Couldn’t take back the way his words earlier had made me feel.
I hung on, looping my legs around his waist, and my one good arm around his neck.
It wasn’t necessary, though, because he had such a solid hold on me that I could hang there loosely and he’d still have me.
He made it up the stairs and into his place before he allowed my body to slowly slide down his.
I missed nothing.
Not the feel of his gun that was tucked under his shirt. Not the hard planes of his chest. Not the belt buckle at the middle of his hips. And definitely not the hard length of his cock now pressed against my belly.
And, of course, I had to ruin the moment by blurting out, “This used to be my house.”
He blinked.
I bit my lip and could practically feel my face heating up as embarrassment started to set in.
“Your house?” he asked when he realized I wasn’t going to expound on my blurted words.
“Yeah.” I looked around. “I used to live here with my family until I was seven or so. Then my parents got divorced, and then I was here only every other weekend for a while,” I mused as I looked around. “I broke my arm on those stairs.”