Dirty Letters Read online Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward

Categories Genre: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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Luca was in tears. “I love you, too, Griffin. I really do. I always have.”

We embraced, and I whispered in her ear, “I wasn’t exactly expecting that to come out the way it did, but now that it has . . . I want you to know that I mean every word.”

Doris returned, panting. “New carton of eggs for ya.”

She busily returned to scanning the rest of the items, seeming to rush nervously to make up for the previous delay.

After paying for everything, I wanted to give her a little something extra. I handed her a hundred-dollar bill. “Thank you for looking after my Luca when I can’t.”

“My pleasure.” She grinned. “Thank you so much, Mr. Archer.”

“I’ll see you soon, Doris,” Luca said.

“You’d better,” she said as we walked away.

Luca and I took the groceries to her car. After packing the trunk, I stopped to look at the sky. It was a beautiful starry night and, even more beautiful, there was absolutely no one in sight.

Freedom.

I grabbed Luca impulsively and started to slow dance with her in the middle of the parking lot. With her hand in mine, we rocked back and forth in silence. When else in my life could I do this without someone snapping my photo? I wanted to dance with my girl under the stars with no one watching but us.

I didn’t know why, but the first song that came to mind was “Maybe I’m Amazed” by Paul McCartney. It just seemed fitting. Luca continued to rest her head on my shoulder as I started singing the song softly.

It was a beautiful few minutes of peaceful rocking with the lady I adored. It felt like a dream indeed. If only my real life wouldn’t be coming to wake me up in a couple of days.

As our dance came to an end and we entered the car, I asked, “Would you ever consider a threesome?”

She was adorable as shock overtook her face.

“No. Never.”

“I wasn’t referring to that kind of threesome. But I was thinking . . . maybe you’d let me interfere in your Furby action tonight?”

I didn’t want to leave. And I didn’t mean the day after tomorrow—I meant ever. Luca’s head rested on my chest, and a cute little snore made her lips vibrate with each exhale she let out. Jesus, I even loved her snore.

I was screwed.

Totally screwed.

How the hell was I going to go on the road for weeks, sometimes months at a time, without seeing her? I didn’t want to go one single day. Plus, I really loved her lifestyle. Even the two-in-the-morning supermarket run felt more normal to me than anything had felt in years. I could see myself raking the leaves out front in the fall, shoveling the snow in the winter, and taking long walks in the spring with Luca by my side. Even though I had all the money I’d ever dreamed of, it always felt like something was missing. I just didn’t know what it was. Until now.

I fucking love this girl.

And now that I knew what made me happy, there was no way I was letting it slip through my fingers. So I slunk out of bed, careful not to wake Luca, and went to her office. I remembered she had a big calendar in there, one of those old-school desk blotters, and I needed it to lay out my plan.

“What smells so good?” Luca came up behind me at the stove and wrapped her arms around my bare chest. I set down the spatula and turned to bury my face in her neck.

“You. You smell good. It’s about time your lazy butt got up. I’m starving.”

“You could have eaten breakfast without me.”

I slipped my hands beneath the hem of the T-shirt she wore, my T-shirt—which I loved her in—and grabbed a handful of ass. “I ate breakfast three hours ago. I was talking about lunch. I’m eating you, sweetheart.” I pointed my chin to the kitchen counter next to us. “Right up there. I’m going to spread your legs wide and lick you until you say yes.”

She pulled her head back. “What are you asking that you want me to say yes to?”

I shook my head. “In good time. In good time. We’ll get to that. But first, I made you all your favorites.” I lifted a paper towel. “Bacon—turkey bacon. So you can enjoy the taste and still look your little buddy in the eye afterward.” I took the top off a pot on the stovetop. “Mashed potatoes. The real kind, not the powder shit you said you buy when you’re cooking for one. I have four Band-Aids on my fingers to prove I peeled the spuds myself.” I opened the oven door, where I had the main course keeping warm. “And crispy fried chicken battered with cornflakes.”


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