Dark Obsession (Whiskey Men – Wounded Heroes #2) Read Online Hope Ford

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Novella Tags Authors: Series: Whiskey Men - Wounded Heroes Series by Hope Ford
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Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
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She wraps her hand in mine, and I lace our fingers together and pull her to me gently. “Will you come in?”

“Y-yeah,” she stutters.

I pull her in the door and shut it behind us. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine.”

I hold her hand tighter. She seems nervous, and I don’t want that. “Have a seat.”

I gesture toward the direction of the couch, and she starts to move, pulling me with her. She helps me find where I’m going, and we both sit down. I turn in my seat until my bare knee presses against her bare knee, and I gulp. “Shit.” I grab the towel and shoot to my feet. “Shit, let me get dressed. I’m sorry, I forgot.”

She giggles, and I stop, loving the sound from her lips. “I just flashed my junk at you, didn’t I?”

She laughs. “It’s okay.”

I shake my head and put some distance between us. “I’m sorry, Olivia. Geez, you’re all I’ve thought about in three weeks, and the first thing I do when you come around is flash you. Fuck, you have to think I’m some kind of pervert at this point.”

“I don’t,” she says.

I open my mouth to say more but then slam it shut. I’ve made a horrible impression on her twice now, and I don't know if I can come back from it. Hell, I don’t even know if I should try because I don’t even know what dumb thing I’ll do next.

She reaches for me and squeezes my arm. “Why don’t you go get dressed? I want to talk about something with you.”

I nod and take two steps away before stopping. “Wait. That doesn’t sound good.”

She laughs, and I swear my heart does a flip-flop.

“It’s fine, Jason. Go put clothes on.”

I nod and then worry my lip the whole way into the bedroom. I grab my clothes and get dressed really fast before making my way back into the living room. I’m probably being foolish, but I don’t want her to leave.

“Where’s your cane?”

My steps falter, but I make my way back to the couch. “It should be in the corner by the door. I sort of have everything memorized here and don’t need it much. I always try to have it when I go out.”

I sit heavily on the couch next to her, and the mood has shifted. It’s not her fault that she’s curious, but it’s like a sudden reminder of my handicap. “So what are you doing here?”

I wince when I realize how blunt that sounds. “I mean, I’m glad you came,” I say, but even to me, it’s like an afterthought.

She’s quiet and starts to talk softly. “I came to cut your hair.”

“Cut my hair?” Of all the things I thought she’d say—or hoped she’d say—I wasn’t expecting that. “You just cut my hair three weeks ago.”

“Yeah, I know, but I figured…”

Her voice trails off, and I lean forward. “You figured what? Just say it.”

“This is a bad idea. Forget it. I’m going to go.”

The cushions on the couch shift, and I know she’s on the move. I stand up and reach out for her. When my hands wrap around her waist, I pull her back and set her down on the cushion next to me. She’s close, so close I can feel her thighs pressed against mine, and one of her legs is over mine. “Don’t go,” I tell her gruffly.

“Why should I stay? You’re obviously not happy I’m here.”

I guess it’s good I put clothes on because in the towel, she would be able to tell how excited I am that she’s here. “Yes, I am. If you want to cut my hair, cut it. Do whatever you want to do. But I want you to stay.”

She blows out a breath. “Jason, I feel like I keep saying the wrong thing, and I’m sorry. I came because I know you weren’t comfortable at the shop. Plus, it’s been three weeks. I have some clients that come and get their hair cut every week. And…” Her voice trails off, and I hear her take a deep breath and let it out. “And I wanted to see you.”

I reach for her and wrap my hand around her thigh. I don’t have the right to touch her, but I'm yearning to have my hands on her. “That’s really sweet of you. I would appreciate you cutting my hair.”

I may not be able to see her, but I can feel a change. She’s happy, and she jumps up from her seat. “I’m going to get set up and get a chair for you.”

I stay in my seat as she works around the room. I hear her drag one of the kitchen chairs and what sounds like her setting things on the table. When she comes to me and grabs my hand, I go to her readily.


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