Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“You made me sound like a serial killer. TV on the floor? One towel?”
“I made you sound like the workaholic you are.”
“My place is nice.”
“Your place was entirely devoid of personality before me.”
“I liked my place before you,” I say through my teeth as we reach our room.
She shrugs, walking over to her bags. “Don’t get mad at me, okay? I’m just selling them on our relationship.”
“By making me look like a moron.”
“By making it look real.” She pulls a bikini from her suitcase and holds it up. “What do you think?”
I stare at her for a long moment.
This fucking girl.
This motherfucking girl.
The bikini is small. It’s white. And she’s going to look absolutely delicious wearing it.
Which makes me hate her even more.
She has no right to look fucking sexy after telling that story.
I walk over, grab the bikini from her hand, and throw it aside.
“Didn’t like it?” she asks, backing off, grinning. “Okay, no need to get mad.”
“I love the bikini,” I say, glaring pure loathing at her. “You are going to look obscene in that fucking thing and I’m half hard thinking about it. But listen to me, Fiona.” I jam a finger in her face. “Stop making me look like a fucking psychopath.”
Her grin gets bigger. “I’m really having fun with our marriage.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Don’t be mad, sweetie.” She knocks my finger away, leans in, and kisses my cheek.
I catch her by the hair. She sucks in a surprised breath as I kiss her hard, teeth biting into her lower lip. She grunts, frustrated, but I hold the kiss. When we break apart, her face is red and her eyes blink rapidly.
“What the fuck was that for?” she hisses.
“Fun,” I say. “Sweetie. Put on the bikini.”
Fuck-ing-hell. I am not going to survive this weekend.
I grab a change of clothes, charge into the bathroom, and slam the door behind me.
Chapter 20
Gareth
Fucking obscene.
That was the correct word for Fiona in that bikini.
It shouldn’t get to me like this. It’s a bathing suit—women wear them all the time. I’ve seen thousands of good-looking girls in tiny bikinis in my life, but I’ve never stared at them like I keep staring at Fiona.
I can’t tear my eyes away.
She’s a goddamn miracle. Long legs, toned stomach, breasts like heaven, ass like a symphony.
I want to shove her bathing suit bottoms aside, slide my fingers between her legs, and taste her moans on my tongue.
Instead, I sit on a chair next to Orin while Fiona chats with Molly, the two women lounging on towels in the sun.
“This is the life, my boy,” Orin says, grinning. His sons are in the ocean, boogie-boarding. “This is why we do what we do.”
“Can I ask you something?” I struggle to look at the old gangster instead of at my wife—my fake wife.
“Please do.” He tilts his head back, smiling, sunglasses over his eyes.
“Does this make the risk worth it?”
He lets out a soft grunt, lips curling into a smile. “No, not this.”
That surprises me. “If not this, then what?”
“I told you before. Family makes the risk worth it.” He tips his sunglasses down, looking at me over the rim. “When I bring home enough money to make my wife and my children comfortable, that makes the risk worth it. The beach, the beach house, they’re side effects of why I do what I do. Stability, safety. A future. That’s why I work so damn hard. Without the family, there’d be no point to all the struggle. But then again, without the work, there’d be nothing at all.” He sighs and puts his sunglasses back in place. “The circle of life.”
I stare at Fiona and digest what he said.
If he works for his family, what do I work for?
Why sacrifice so much? For myself? Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth the pain.
If I don’t love it, why put myself through it?
We sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the sea breeze, the mild sunshine. Fiona laughs at something Molly says and glances back at me. I stare at her, not afraid to let her know I’m looking. She tucks her hair back behind her ear. Smiles like she’s happy to see me.
Something in my chest aches. Something big, something hardened. Something I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Fiona looks away, but I want her with me. I want her by my side. I want her laugh, her taste. I want to kiss her one more time, and I don’t want to stop this time.
I want to keep going.
I’m tempted, too fucking tempted.
It’s not even just that bathing suit driving me crazy— though it doesn’t help.
It’s Fiona. It’s something about her.
Nolan and Carson come over. I stand to shake their hands, introducing myself again. Carson’s the big one, a burly man, covered in tattoos. Nolan’s taller, green eyes, easy smile. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was a group of healthy, rich East-Coasters enjoying a day at the beach. Not a family of seasoned thieves and killers.