Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“No.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, his breath feathering across my skin, leaving a trail of chills down my neck. “And after that?”
I couldn’t breathe, his hypnotizing gaze holding me captive. “I told him no and then lost my mind on him for digging up the past.”
His jaw clenched. “And how did he take that? Did he get aggressive or loud? Because I swear to God, Gwen, I will—”
“Hey,” I whispered. “It’s fine. He was a dick but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
He glanced off to the side, mumbling, “Fucking piece of shit.”
I rested a hand on his chest, his heart pounding beneath it. “He’s gonna show up here, True. You need to be ready.”
His gaze snapped back to mine. “Oh, I’m fucking ready. I wish that spineless leech would drag his ass to my door. I told him months ago to stay out of Belton. It’s bad enough they call me every goddamn day. Leaving messages morning, noon, and night. But showing up like that? You better believe I’m gonna shut that bullshit down real fast.”
A staggering betrayal stopped me cold. “You knew about this?”
“Journalists have been trying to get their talons into me for years. Folly’s not nearly as original as he thinks. He’s just a bigger asshole than most. I’ll call my lawyer and see what we can do to stop him from coming back.”
I blinked at him—annoyance roaring to life and thankfully silencing the hum he’d caused inside me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His forehead crinkled. “What?”
I shoved at his chest, forcing him back. “Why didn’t you warn me? I was blindsided today when he showed up. And you know what? All I was worried about was you. I ran all the way over here panicking that you were going to lose your mind. I should have known something was up when you pulled that sexy voodoo hypnotism shit.”
He quirked an eyebrow, but I was on a roll, so I ignored it.
“What the hell was the point in the cranky caveman routine? This wasn’t news to you. You’ve known for months and never thought to mention it?” I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest.
Okay, so maybe I was more than annoyed. I was flat-out pissed.
And worse, this jackass smiled.
At me.
Those perfect lips curled at the corners of his mouth. It was a masterpiece and so classically Truett it made me want to kick him. That was also another lie I told myself. What I really wanted to do to his mouth definitely started with a K, but with him, it would have been the worst four-letter word possible.
The kick was safer.
“You done yet?” he asked.
Like the mature adult I was, I mocked, “You done yet?”
His smile grew. “You were worried about me, huh?”
I scoffed. “Truett, you’ve had a panic attack every time I’ve seen you the last few weeks. Yeah, it’s safe to say I was worried.”
That made his smile fall, and much to my dismay, it didn’t feel nearly as good as I’d hoped. Actually, it made me feel like a total jerk.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I muttered.
He hung his head. “You don’t have to apologize for the truth.”
“I don’t have to be rude about it, either.”
The side of his mouth hiked as he peeked up at me through thick lashes. “That’s true too. You can be pretty rude.”
I leveled him with a glare, but it only succeeded in making the other side of his mouth hike too.
He moved to the step and sat down again. Tipping his chin to the spot beside him, he bargained with, “Humor me for a few minutes? No panic attacks this time. I promise.”
My shoulders sagged as the anger ebbed from my system. I had a laundry list of things to do. A contractor to harass. A restaurant to demolish. But against my better judgment, I sank down beside him.
The stairs were only so wide, and he was a big guy, so I was extra careful not to touch him.
Reading me like a book, he interlocked his fingers and rested his elbows on his thighs in an effort to make himself smaller. It worked to an extent. Our bodies weren’t touching, but there was still a connection that had nothing to do with the physical.
“I didn’t know you would want me to warn you,” he said. “We hadn’t spoken in years, and after the way things ended, I thought me reaching out to you would be even worse than someone like Folly.”
He had a point. A few weeks earlier, I’d have chosen an entire documentary crew showing up on my front lawn with a mariachi band at three in the morning over a phone call from Truett. I couldn’t put my finger on why that had changed. Given how my emotions had been a pendulum of highs and lows since he’d made a reappearance in my life, I wouldn’t say it fell under the “time heals all wounds” category. Maybe over the years, I’d callused over enough that the mere sight of him didn’t rip open the scars of my heart anymore.